It's' weird to see her, the woman with brown hair and light brown eyes, having coffee alone every day for the past five months and never knowing her name.


Ever since I started being the barista of this well-known coffee shop, I always see this woman, probably older than me by a year or three, having coffee alone. It's' weird in that, every day, she goes into the shop and heads straight to the corner booth. One of my co-baristas will make a plain café Americano and then asks me to serve it to her.


Which I can't' say no to.


I asked my co-baristas about her, like this woman's name, but they all shrugged and told me to leave her alone. And when I insisted, they all said that the owners of the café – all three of them – gave a strict rule about that customer.


Please don't interrupt her; unless you need to.


So I followed their rule. But that didn't mean I would stop noticing her.


So whenever I serve her the drink, I notice that she types on her laptop and never looks at anyone. I once saw what she was typing, and it was either several technical words or, as those I.T people call it, codes or plain paragraphs that looked like a story.


She caught my attention among the patrons of this café—a woman who piqued my curiosity.


That woman, whose name was not given to me since everyone in the café already knew her and her order, sits in that corner booth and never acknowledges anyone. That woman, beautiful and silent, caught my attention among the patrons of this café.


She piqued my curiosity, wanting to know why she acts as such.


"Hey! Take this to the miss, will you?" one of my co-barista asked, pushing a tray with a cup of café Americano. The so-called ''miss'' was the mysterious woman.


"Like always." I smiled at my co-barista and carried the tray to the corner booth.


I noted that the woman occupying the said booth was not working on her laptop – a rare feat – and just staring outside the glass pane. She had a look on her face that resembled longing and sadness.


It was raining outside; probably why that woman had such a breath-taking expression.


Setting my sights on her, I admired how she looked today.


White long-sleeved polo with black suspenders.


Slim slacks.


Black loafers.


And what strikes out from her monochrome ensemble is the necklace with a pendant that I'm' not sure what it looks like and a ring with a blue gem. It looked like a diamond ring. And she was playing with the jewelry in her right hand.


''Must've' cost a fortune….'' I mused.


With my attention on the said jewelry, I did not notice that I was already a table apart from her, and my knees were hitting the table. I groaned loudly while ensuring that the coffee on the tray I was holding did not spill. ''Sonuvabeach!'' I checked on her to see if I spilled anything on our valued customer or hurt her.


I think my heart jumped to my throat when I found myself staring at those light brown eyes staring back at me. Those soft brown eyes looked at me with surprise and concern.


"Are you okay?" she asked, sounding genuinely concerned.


Here I thought she ignored everyone.


Showing a small smile, sucking in pain, I placed her coffee on the table and held the tray behind me. "Yeah, I'm' fine."


She shook her head. "I don't' think that you are, Miss Lacroix," she said, taking her cup and smelling the aroma of the coffee. "You should have that knee checked."


Letting out a forced laugh, sounding pathetic, I brushed off her advice. "I'm' built for durability, so I'm' fine." Then I remembered that she had said my name. "Wait, how did you know my name?"


The brunette looked at me with a smile – a dashing one at that. "I know everyone's name here. Kinda friends with the owners," she informed me and stretched out her hand. ""Elise Zaragoza.""


I think my brain got fried the moment I saw her dashing smile. Nodding, I took her offered hand and shook it. "Averia Lacroix…"


"A pleasure to meet you, Averia."


Getting her name, seeing her smile… I think I have a crush on this woman.