Loverboy (The Company #2) - Sarina Bowen Page 0,21
little to do with it. But still. “Max, this is borderline psycho. This hacker you’re chasing might not lead you where you think he will. Meanwhile, we have paying clients we could be servicing.”
“My gut says the murders are part of something big,” he says quietly. “And if I’m right, many of our clients are in danger. As is the entire information economy.”
This shuts me up for a moment, because security work has its own breed of logic. It’s the only job in which you hope that everything you do is unnecessary.
Although it often isn’t, because the world is a scary place. And hunches are not to be ignored. Especially Max’s.
“Fine,” I grunt, shooting a glance toward the drill sergeant who’s going to teach me to be a barista. “But my next assignment better be something where I get to hack into something or shoot at something.”
Max snorts. “You’re looking at this the wrong way, Gunn. Think of the look on Posy’s face tomorrow when you walk in there and make cup after cup of award-worthy espresso. When she realizes she won’t have the satisfaction of firing you.”
“Hmm,” I say, because the idea does have a certain amount of appeal. “Okay. But you still owe me.”
“I know it.” He gives me a little push toward the coffee machine.
“Let’s go, recruit!” the trainer says, rubbing his hands together. “Jump right in and make your first shot.”
“Sure,” I say, holding in a sigh, rounding the bar to flip the switch on the grinder. I count to three Mississippis and turn it off, just like Posy does. Then I measure out the first shot of coffee grounds and carry on.
It’s all going fine until I’m about to put the tamped-down shot into Lola’s twin.
“Whoa, recruit!” Rico barks. “Dude. Always clean off the edge of the portafilter before you load that shot. No excuses. You’re not respecting your beans!”
“Huh? Clean the what?”
“Port. A. Filter,” he enunciates. “That wand in your hand has a name. Don’t you have an espresso machine at home? Don’t tell me you drink coffee from pods.” He shudders.
“I don’t drink coffee at all.”
Rico blinks. And then he blinks again. “Why?”
“Not a fan,” I say.
“Fuck me.” He throws his hands up. “I don’t think I can work under these conditions.”
“Listen. I will not have tea drinkers shamed in this office. And just think of your fee, man. You’ll be able to afford a lot of fresh ink.” The man has more tattoos than New York has hipsters.
He lets out a sigh. “You’re right. It’s fine. I’ll just have to assume a different base of knowledge.”
“Exactly. Talk to me like I’m a fifteen-year-old coffee virgin.”
“Fine. Let’s start over. This is a portafilter.” He points at it. “I want you to treat it like you treat your dick—keep it clean and ready for action. Every shot will be pure bliss, if you always wipe the edge before you insert it in the machine.”
“Uh, sure.” Although I think he took that analogy a little too far.
“Now drop and give me ten push-ups.”
“What? I just came from the gym.”
He gives me a menacing look. “Fuck if I care. Drop to the floor, recruit. You’ll learn. Every mistake requires a punishment.”
I hit the deck and bang out ten push-ups. And plot new ways to murder Max. Possibly with a portafilter.
“Speed ball.”
“It’s …” I know this one. “A cup of regular coffee with a shot of espresso in it.”
“Caffe Freddo.”
“That’s … an iced espresso.”
“Wet.”
“Uh …” Damn it. “It’s how the ladies feel when they meet me.”
Rico shakes his head. “Wet means more milk than foam. Drop and give me ten.”
I drop to the floor again and bang out another ten push-ups. My arms are quaking because I’ve done hundreds already.
On the upside, I know a lot about coffee now. And chicks dig big guns, so …
“Is he ready for the big time yet?”
When I stand up, Max is pacing in front of the impromptu coffee bar. “I’m getting there,” I tell my impatient partner. “I’ve already made enough espresso to fuel lower Manhattan.”
“You’re ready for a test, then,” Max says.
“He totally is,” Rico agrees. “Bring on the hordes.”
“The … who?”
Max pulls his Katt Phone out of his pocket and taps the screen. “Attention Company staff.” His voice booms from the loudspeakers mounted on the walls, here and on every other floor. “I’ve just unlocked the sixth floor to all employees, because we have a special treat for you today. Gunnar Scott wants to show you how excited