But then March came.
California simply shut down.
Weeks went by when Vanessa could not even legally open La Vida Mocha’s doors. She tried to apply for the first round of the Paycheck Protection Program but by the time she had gathered all the necessary information needed from her bank and the Small Business Administration and filled out the application, the program had run out of money—in thirteen days. Not surprising considering just about every small business in the country was trying for the same pot of money. And even though a second round of PPP funds had become available in April, by then it was pointless to apply for it because by then she had no more employees.
Chloë and Luli were gone, Vanessa unable to keep paying them. Chloë had landed on her feet; she had eventually snagged a job at an Amazon warehouse. Luli, however, had had to give up her apartment in nearby Oceanside and move back in with her parents in San Diego. There were no hard feelings from either of them; Vanessa even had plans to see Chloë tomorrow night. In any case, by the time March turned to April Vanessa was left alone with La Vida Mocha and the very real struggle of how to keep her business going.
Even when the state relaxed the shutdown a bit and allowed establishments like hers to open for takeout, it seemed too little too late. All of the shops surrounding La Vida Mocha were still closed, the art gallery permanently, a For Lease sign now occupying its window. And a lot of La Vida Mocha’s patronage had come from folks shopping nearby, so all of those customers had vanished. People were staying home. Which meant their money was staying home with them.
One night in May, alone in bed and unable to sleep, Vanessa had the most terrible thought she had ever had in her life.
Thank God Nana died.
As soon as that statement crossed her mind Vanessa had sat up suddenly and spent a good ten minutes weeping, hating herself.
Oh my God, what the fuck is wrong with me?, she had chided herself, openly sobbing. How could I think such a thing!
But she knew how could think such a thing. After all, when Nana had died back in October of last year, Vanessa, the only grandchild, had inherited some money. Not a Bill Gates-like fortune but certainly more than Vanessa had ever seen at one time in her life. It was the inheritance that allowed her to finally take the plunge and open up her own coffeeshop, a longtime dream. Vanessa had socked the money away in a savings account, secured a small business loan from Chase and figured that she could keep Nana’s money mostly untouched while La Vida Mocha found its footing.
Yet now it was Nana’s money that allowed Vanessa to keep opening La Vida Mocha each day.
Occasionally, she experienced a pang of guilt when she thought of Chloë and Luli, though. Nana’s money could have kept them on the payroll even until now but the businesswoman in Vanessa couldn’t justify that. Not in this day and age. Not when there was no sure way to know when (or if?) she could reopen normally, with actual sit-down guests. Not when she had the loan from Chase to repay. Not when she had rent for the coffeeshop to pay each month in addition to the myriad other regular expenses.
No, she had done the right thing, letting them go. But damn it, things had to get better soon. A vaccine, a cure...something! Because according to her very simple back-of-the-envelope calculations, the big wad of cash she had gotten from her beloved Nana would run out by January if things remained the same.
And it was at this point that the bell over the door dinged.
Vanessa reached for her face mask which she had taken off when the last customer had left, way back when the afternoon was still young. Expertly putting it on she looked up, feeling stupid when she realized she was smiling a welcome behind a mask that completely hid her mouth.
When she saw the woman who walked in, Vanessa’s heart thumped. Boom!
Whoa!
Suddenly she was thankful for the mask because she realized that her mouth had dropped open in awe.
Her customer had long auburn hair pulled into a ponytail and was wearing skintight workout shorts that topped off a gorgeous pair of tanned legs. She was wearing the most adorable purple yoga crop top revealing a flat and toned midriff, which Vanessa appraised with her ex-personal trainer’s eye. Jealously, Vanessa wondered where she got the top from but she also couldn’t help noticing that the top accentuated a pair of wonderfully small breasts. Vanessa had a thing for small breasts, always had.
In this pandemic age, where you could often only see half a person’s face, Vanessa nonetheless knew this woman
was drop-dead beautiful based solely on her eyes—perfectly shaped and of such an intensely deep green Vanessa couldn’t stop looking at them. Unless she had a classic Tom Selleck mustache under the mask, Vanessa was certain the woman would be stunning when her entire face was revealed.
Lucky woman who gets to see that. Of course, chances are it’s probably a lucky guy.
“Um...hi! Welcome in!” Vanessa greeted her and then immediately cleared her throat. That had come out wobbly, like a teenager who finally found the courage to speak to her crush.
But…
Vanessa wasn’t sure if she imagined it but did the woman’s eyebrow slightly raise at the awkwardness of her greeting? And, also...well, the woman hadn’t taken her eyes off Vanessa once since entering, and Vanessa was pretty sure the woman’s eyes were telegraphing interest.
She seemed quite young, maybe—maybe—twenty-five?
“Are you open open?” the customer asked, her voice muffled slightly by the mask.
Vanessa shook her head. “Sorry, no. Just for takeout.”
The woman’s eyes transmitted disappointment as she looked around the shop.
“Damn,” she muttered. She then pointed behind her, indicating outside. “I saw Brawn Brothers with customers inside and I just hoped.”