Chapter 233

Chapter 233
Hannah

I left the pop-up feeling lighter than I had in weeks. It wasn't a full-time position or even a career role, but it was a foot in the door of the industry I loved. Plus, the business card burning a hole in my pocket represented potential beyond what I'd dared hope for.
Emma was waiting for me at a café around the corner, eager to hear how the day had gone.
"You're glowing," she observed as I collapsed into the seat across from her. "Good day?"
"The best." I filled her in on the job offer and the networking opportunity. "I can't believe my luck."
"It's not luck, it's skill," Emma corrected, pushing a latte toward me. "You know what you're doing, and people recognize that."
I sipped my coffee gratefully. "Still doesn't solve my immediate money problem. Part-time at the studio won't cover all my bills."
"So take the coffee shop job too," Emma suggested. "Just temporarily."
"That's the plan." I slumped back in my chair. "I just hoped I'd be further along by now, you know?"
Emma studied me for a moment. "Is this about Leonardo?"
I straightened, surprised by the abrupt change in topic. "What? No. Why would you think that?"
"Because you've been different since he ended things. Like you're constantly comparing your current life to what you had with him."
I started to deny it, then stopped. Was she right? Had I been measuring everything against the brief, intense luxury I'd experienced with Leonardo?
"Maybe a little," I admitted reluctantly. "It's hard not to. One day I was experiencing luxury, and now I'm excited about a part-time job steaming clothes."
Emma reached across the table and squeezed my hand. "That wasn't real life. That was a fantasy with an expiration date. This—" she gestured around us, "—is real. It's yours. You earned it."
I knew she was right, but part of me still longed for the ease of life with Leonardo, where financial worries disappeared and doors magically opened. But there had been a price for all that, one that went beyond the physical arrangement we'd had.
"I know," I said finally. "And I'm grateful for these opportunities. Really. It's just an adjustment."
"Of course it is. But you're doing great." She grinned suddenly. "And hey, you never know when some handsome billionaire might walk into the coffee shop and fall madly in love with you."
I rolled my eyes. "Very funny."
"I'm just saying, keep your options open." She winked.
"My options are currently limited to how many part-time jobs I can juggle without losing my mind."
Emma laughed, then turned serious. "Have you heard from him at all?"
I shook my head. "Not since that last day." I didn't mention how often I'd checked my phone in those first few weeks, hoping for a message that never came. Or how sometimes, when I took a different route home, I found myself passing by his building, glancing up at the penthouse windows.
"Probably for the best," Emma said, clearly trying to sound convincing. "Clean break and all that."
"Definitely," I agreed, equally unconvincing. I changed the subject quickly. "Anyway, I need to update my resume tonight for that PR firm. Want to help?"
We spent the next hour at the café, polishing my resume and crafting a cover letter for Veronica Lee. By the time we left, I felt more optimistic about my prospects than I had in months.
The optimism lasted exactly three days before reality crashed back down.
My phone buzzed as I was leaving Melissa's studio after organizing her collection samples. I nearly dropped my coffee when I saw the email notification from Veronica Lee's assistant.
"Thank you for your interest... high volume of applicants... unfortunately... keep your resume on file..."
The standard rejection letter stung more than I expected. I'd spent hours perfecting that application, had even created a special digital portfolio with my most promising designs. And for what? A form letter that basically said "don't call us, we'll call you."
"Shit," I muttered, shoving my phone back into my bag.
I trudged home, the weight of rejection pressing down on my shoulders. Melissa's part-time position was great for experience, but the pay barely covered groceries. I needed something steady, reliable.
By the time I reached my apartment, I'd made a decision. It wasn't the glamorous career start I'd imagined, but it was practical.
The next morning, I pushed open the familiar glass door of Moonbeam Coffee, the scent of freshly ground beans and pastries hitting me like a wave of nostalgia. Jerry stood behind the counter, wiping down the espresso machine with the same methodical care he'd always shown.
He glanced up at the sound of the bell, his bearded face breaking into a wide grin when he spotted me.
"Hannah Mitchell!" he bellowed, drawing the attention of the handful of customers scattered throughout the shop. "As I live and breathe!"
I smiled despite myself. "Hey, Jerry."
"Don't 'hey Jerry' me after disappearing for months!" He came around the counter to enfold me in a bear hug that smelled of coffee and cinnamon. "Where've you been?"
"Post grad stuff."
He released me, looking me up and down. "Well, you look good. Too good for this old place, that's for sure."
"About that..." I shifted my weight, suddenly feeling awkward. "I was wondering if you might need any help around here? Even part-time?"
Jerry's bushy eyebrows shot up. "You want your old job back?"
"If it's available," I said quickly. "I know I left—"
"Are you kidding? I've been short-staffed for weeks!" He clapped me on the shoulder. "The morning rush has been killing me. When can you start?"
Relief flooded through me. "Whenever you need me. I have classes and another part-time gig, but I'm flexible otherwise."
"Tomorrow morning, 6 AM. We'll ease you back in with a short shift." He winked at me. "Don't worry, it'll all come back to you. Making coffee is like riding a bike."
I walked out of Moonbeam with a tentative spring in my step. It wasn't ideal, but it was income. Between Melissa's studio work and shifts at Moonbeam, I could make ends meet while continuing to pursue design opportunities.