The scent of freshly brewed coffee and vanilla pastries filled the air as Eurydice Santiago pushed open the door of Café Amora, her favorite spot in town. The bell above the entrance chimed softly, announcing her arrival.
"You're late," a familiar voice called from behind the counter.
Eurydice rolled her eyes as she approached the register. Amelia Vasquez, her best friend since high school, stood there, arms crossed, her dark brown curls pulled into a messy bun.
"I'm not late, Amelia. I didn't even know we had plans," Eurydice said, setting her sketchpad on the counter. Amelia huffed, sliding a caramel macchiato across the surface.
"I knew you'd show up eventually. It’s free, but you owe me." Eurydice took a grateful sip before raising an eyebrow.
"What am I owing you for this time?" Amelia grinned, leaning in. "A job."
Eurydice nearly choked on her coffee.
"Excuse me?"
"I know money’s been tight, and I also know you’d rather starve than ask for help," Amelia continued, unfazed. "So, here’s the deal: we’re short-staffed for this upcoming charity gala at Montague Hotel—the fancy one uptown. They need extra servers for the night. Pays well. You in?" Eurydice frowned, tapping her fingers against her coffee cup.
"A server? You do realize I have the coordination of a newborn deer, right?"
Amelia smirked. "I do. But you need the cash, and it’s just one night. What’s the worst that could happen?"
"A broken plate, spilled wine, and a lawsuit from some rich guy in a designer suit," Eurydice muttered.
"Or," Amelia countered, "you get through it with minimal disasters, make some money, and finally pay your rent on time."
Eurydice sighed, staring at the coffee like it held the answer to all her problems. The truth was, her bank account was dangerously low, and commissions for her paintings were unpredictable.
She needed this.
"Fine," she said at last. "But if I end up embarrassing myself, I’m dragging you down with me." Amelia beamed. "Deal. Now finish your coffee, because training starts tonight."
The sun had already dipped below the skyline when Amelia slung her bag over her shoulder, adjusting the strap as she stood outside the café. Eurydice sat at their usual outdoor table, sketchpad open, lost in thought.
“I gotta run,” Amelia said. “The theater club has a last-minute rehearsal, so I won’t be around to remind you about the job tomorrow. Don’t forget, okay?” Eurydice barely looked up.
“Mhm.” Amelia groaned. “Eury, did you even hear me?”
“Yes, yes. Theater club. Rehearsal. You abandoning me.” Eurydice waved a hand dismissively. “I got it.”
Amelia nodded, satisfied.
“Good. Just be at Montague Hotel on time.”
That finally made Eurydice pause. She blinked up at Amelia. “Wait… what time?” Amelia’s mouth opened—then snapped shut.
A beat of silence.
“Oh crap,” she muttered. “I almost forgot to tell you.” Eurydice groaned, dropping her head onto the table.
“Amelia.”
“Okay, okay! It’s at 7 PM sharp. Be there early, like 6:30, and wear something presentable, please.”
Eurydice peeked up. “So… no ripped jeans and hoodie?”
“Unless you want the Montague elite to throw you out.” Amelia rolled her eyes.
“Black pants, white shirt. It’s not that hard.” Eurydice sighed dramatically.
“Fine.” Amelia grinned.
“Good girl. Now, don’t forget, or I’ll personally haunt you.” With that, she waved and jogged off toward the bus stop, leaving Eurydice staring after her with a mix of amusement and mild dread.
“7 PM, huh?” she murmured, tapping her pencil against her chin. This was either going to be a disaster or the easiest money she’d ever
By the time Eurydice unlocked the door to her tiny apartment, exhaustion had settled deep in her bones. She nudged the door open with her hip, balancing her sketchpad and now-empty coffee cup.
The smell of something buttery and sweet lingered in the air—her mother had obviously been baking. Eurydice’s stomach rumbled. She’d been so caught up with Amelia that she hadn’t eaten since breakfast.
“Mom?” she called, kicking off her shoes near the door.
“In the kitchen, mija!” Isabel Santiago’s warm voice floated over the sound of clinking dishes.
Eurydice walked in to find her mother carefully packing pastries into a small cardboard box. Her salt-and-pepper hair was tied back, and her hands—floured as always—worked with practiced ease.
“Long day?” Isabel asked without looking up.
Eurydice slumped onto one of the kitchen stools. “You have no idea.”
Her mother glanced at her, eyes narrowing in concern. “You’re not pushing yourself too hard, are you? You’ve barely been home this week.”
Eurydice waved a hand. “No, no, nothing like that. Amelia just roped me into a one-night gig. A fancy event uptown. I’ll be playing ‘Elegant and Competent Server #3’ at the Montague Hotel.”
Isabel paused, eyebrows raising. “The Montague Hotel?”
Eurydice sighed. “Yep. That Montague.”
“That’s quite a prestigious place,” Isabel mused, sealing the pastry box. “Are you sure about this? You’re not exactly... graceful, my dear Eury.”
Eurydice groaned, dropping her head onto the counter. “Why does everyone keep bringing that up?”
“Because we’ve seen you trip over nothing,” a new voice chimed in.
Eurydice lifted her head just in time to see her younger brother, Leo, saunter into the kitchen, a physics textbook tucked under one arm and a protein bar in his other hand.
“I do not trip over nothing,” Eurydice argued, sitting up straighter.
Leo leaned against the counter, smirking. “Really? Because last week, you nearly fell into your own painting. Which was on the floor.”
“That was one time!”
Leo took a bite of his protein bar, clearly unimpressed.
Isabel chuckled, shaking her head. “I think it’s wonderful that you’re trying something new, mija. Just be careful. And please don’t drop anything expensive.”
“No promises,” Eurydice muttered.
Leo plopped down on the stool beside her. “On the bright side, if you do, maybe some
billionaire will be so charmed by your clumsiness that he’ll fall madly in love with you.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Boom. Instant rom-com.”
Eurydice rolled her eyes. “If by ‘charmed,’ you mean ‘suing me for damages,’ then sure.”
“Either way, it’ll be entertaining,” Leo grinned.
Eurydice groaned. “You’re both the worst.”
Isabel kissed the top of her head. “And yet, you love us.”
Eurydice sighed dramatically. “Unfortunately.”
Her mother pushed the pastry box toward her. “Take this with you. It never hurts to
bring something sweet to a stressful job.”
Eurydice smiled, touched. “Thanks, Mom.”
Leo grinned. “And if you do meet a rich guy, at least tell him I need a new laptop.”
Eurydice flicked his forehead.
Tomorrow was bound to be a disaster, but at least she had her family’s support—even if
it came with a side of teasing.