Five Dollar Mocha-
"So what would you like?"

"A grande mocha."

"Nothing else?" He shakes his head, and she smiles, saying, "Our brownies are delicious."

"Is that so? Then I'll take one." He grins.

She takes a brownie and places it in a cardboard box, Starbucks emblazoned on it in dark green. His mocha has arrived by now, and she places the box and the cup on the counter beside the cash register. "That will be $4.98."

"That's how much I usually pay," he says, question in his eyes. He starts for the wallet in his pocket, his crisp suit folding and wrinkling with his movements.

"Well, it's your first time trying out a brownie. Don't tell anyone," she adds, her eyes glittering.

He hands her a five-dollar bill, taking his food in his hands. "Put the change in the penny jar." He walks away, settling himself in an armchair in the corner of the building. She watches him open his briefcase and become immersed in papers, not even looking up to sip his coffee.

That is how it has been everyday for the last few minutes. Today marks the first time she built up the courage to speak to him other than the usual "What would you like?" Flirting with him comes so easily it scares her a little bit. She is sure she acted like she was still in high school; then again, she was only a year past.

Angela, the only other person working today, walks up to her and asks if she wants to leave. ("The only person left is that guy who shows up everyday.") She ponders offering to lock up just to spend some more time pretending not to watch him, but forces herself to pry her eyes away and nod. "I've got a psych test tomorrow anyway."

Her eyes linger on the man in the corner before she pushes the door open, swinging her bag across her shoulder as she steps through.