A/N: I do not owe anything. All mistakes are mine. I do, however, hope you enjoy.
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Behind every successful woman is a substantial amount of coffee – Stephanie Piro -

The house was empty. Or actually, she felt empty, and it reflected on the house. The girls were at The house was empty. Or actually, she felt empty, and it reflected on the house. The girls were at their fathers, and normally she liked the solace of a fortress of her own. No one to disappoint her, no one to kiss the ground off the floor she walked. But lately she got the tugging sensation of emptiness at the edges of her mood. Work had never seemed so, dare she say… dull. The models sparkless, the pages grey. Like someone had flattened all her incoming sensations. Browsing through the book she sighed, this would not do. She could not afford a mishap, for Irv would be breathing in her neck loving to eliminate her, but working in this set of mind wouldn't be productive for either her or the book. Her usual measurements (fire a few, bark some orders, cut of something or someone with a glare) were fruitless, cause she could look at the book all she wanted, it wouldn't scrutinize. And she couldn't call someone just to fire them for the sake of firing. No such slip of power abuse would be tolerated by herself. She perhaps demanded a lot, but never beyond comprehendible boundaries.

No, she decided, this would not do. She needed something unusual, and if her house wouldn't provide inspiration, she would have to get it elsewhere. Grabbing her coat and purse she walked out the door. Perhaps fresh air would help. She stepped firmly on the silent streets, into the slumber of the evening.

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It was quiet. She was almost done, the café already empty, because she ushered the regulars home a bit early. Gently, but firm, to have an evening off. She needed it and it was not like Jeffrey, her boss, would complaint. Because he was never there anyway. Leaving the business practically to Andy alone. She had hired the new girls, taught them and some of them didn't even know how Jeffrey looked like. Not that he would be interested in meeting them. The only thing he was interested in was profit, and in specific the growing of it. Well, Andy had gained that. The morning (all days for the past two weeks actually) had been crazy. It seemed that every single working person in New York was ought to get coffee from "her" shop. She didn't mind, she loved the working, but her muscles were less happy. Not that she would listen to them, it just meant that she did well. But even her mind needed a short break once in a while. And Sunday evenings were silent, people prepared for the beginning of the week mostly at their homes, which meant no disaster if she closed up and had a little free-time.

She had cleaned almost everything. It was a mystery how such a small café (only 4 tables for four persons and a long dark marble counter where people could order on one part and sit at the other part) could get so dirty every day. Crumbles of croissants, wraps of candy, straws from the drinks mothers tried to give to their children. Luckily the light wood of the tables was easy to clean.

Wiping them she heard the door open. It made a dangling sound, by the clinging bells attached to the door. she always liked hearing that sound, knowing human interaction would follow soon. And even though she was tired and actually didn't feel like having another costumer, she gathered her courage to succeed one last order. Cause even though I was closing, someone who comes at this hour, must be in real need of coffee or tea. Then she would be done. Sleeping time. Looking up she smiled gently at the person who walked in. About two meters away stood a woman of…40?..50?, Andy couldn't determine, years or so. She wasn't that high, even with her red killerheels, but made a distant and regal appearance. Like she was royalty, or at least just as important, larger than life. She had an air of gracefulness mixed with arrogance around her. Probably seas of people will part for you, Andy mused. Not only because of the business suit and the impeccable posture, but also because of the Snow-white hair, surrounding an classical face with icy blue eyes. Eyes Andy lost herself in for a moment. Definitely a heartbreaker, calculating your soul as a piece in her chessgame. One eyebrow raised up. Cold blue looked annoyed. Andy blushed, she had definitely stared too long at the gorgeous woman. Reposing herself she started walking to the counter. 'How can I help you? We're about to close as you can see, so the food is already stored away, but I can make you coffee or tea if you want.'

The woman scanned her with a long look. Slightly pursing her lips at the sight of Andrea's blue working polo. She felt naked and uncomfortable under that stare.

'A cappuccino. Semi-skimmed.' The woman had a soft voice. Like velvet.

'I'm sorry but that is not an option.'

The woman's whole entity immediately turned into disapproval. Her glare shot daggers. So…Not being used to being denied anything. Still Andy held her composure and smiled again and began to explain. 'Cappuccino is a morning drank. Good for waking up, cause the combination of the deep taste of the espresso that gives you a feeling of sharp alertness, is a bit softened by the warmth and natural sweetness of whole milk. The froth layer on top suggests a lightness that fills your day. Or at least… A good cappuccino does.' She laughed and changed her posture a bit, grabbed a piston. 'But the purpose of cappuccino doesn't stretch to after half past eleven. It is how they detect tourists in Italy, apart of not speaking Italian' she winked. The sound of grinding beans echoed through the empty café. 'There is no special evening-coffee, though in your case I think a plain espresso will do.'

That seemed to be a wrong choice of words. The woman almost cut her throat with her glare. 'M-my case?' She hissed. 'Pray tell, what is your, no doubt illuminating, analyse of my case.' She almost spat the last words out.

'Well, ehm…' Andy blushed. 'I just meant… I mean, I mean that…'

The eyes of the women almost slid close, still the ice of the glare was almost physically hurting. A concentrated dose meant for Andy.

Breathing deep in and out Andy started again. She would not be humiliated in her own shop. 'I meant that you seem like an infallible woman, your appearance is flawless, your hair is perfect in model, your clothes are elegant but sober, nothing too bombastic or out of place. No offense but… Not an appearance of someone who 'wanders around' on late evenings.' A shy smile. She clicked the Piston back into the machine and pressed the button. 'You seem…too determined for that. Yet you are here, at this hour. I've never seen you before, because I would've remembered you, and you didn't say you want anything to go, so it seems that you do not need to be somewhere.' She putted two small cups underneath the coffee machine. Slowly coffee started to leap out of it into the cups. At first a thick and dark brown ray, but later on it became lighter, caramel coloured, and thinner. 'So one would think that you're looking for something, but without a fixed goal. Like you do not know exactly what you're looking for. And people who don't know what they're looking for either have too many choices or got lost within diverging main and side issue.' The flowing of coffee had stopped. She putted the cups on a plate, adding a small spoon aside, and shove one of the cups towards the woman. 'Espresso is an excellent answer for that, because it brings you back to the basic. It is what coffee essentially is all about. Taste, hotness and strength. It will bring you back to earth, or the core of things. Yet it provides a caffeine kick that refreshes your look on matters. It might not give you a goal, but it could help getting inspiration to settle your goal.' She smiled again, warmly. The woman had been listening all along. 'Here, try it, it's good. Trust me.'

The woman looked back and forth between her and the cup. Still angry, but also a bit taken aback. Yet when her eyes found Andy's she visibly shifted, closing herself up. Standing straighter than she already stood. 'Such a pleasure, to not only have a cup of coffee, but a free shrink at the same time. Just what I was waiting for. And all of it in such a glacial pace, it thrills me.' She picked up the small cup with swift elegance and drank the espresso in one time, before placing the cup back again but not on the dish, so the white porcelain made a hard clinging sound when it hit the counter. 'I must say, however, that apart of your lack of knowledge about me or my case, your assumptions are no better than your hideous cerulean working-polo. And your pathetic little talk about which coffee when or whatever you seem to think they hold as a secret power for I don't know which problem – surely not against smacking your little head on the pavement, cause you seem to be a case of that – was rather endearing but It left me out of time for pleasantries and chit-chat as I have yet to reach my goal at heading home. Goodnight.' And with that she turned around, walked straight out of the shop and disappeared into the darkness of the street.

Andy watched her go with an open mouth. Did that just happened? Did she just left without paying or at least a polite thank you? That woman was a downright Ice queen! Arrogant, impolite and most definitely cutting in her remarks. I mean, even the hotness of the cappuccino hadn't melted her air. She absently shook her head an picked up the empty cup at the opposite of her. A little lipstick marked the rim. So, no illusion then. She wiped it away, dark red on her thumb. Almost innocent, nothing that pointed in the direction of the local frost she just received.

And then Andy smiled. Nevertheless, she thought, even though she cut me off my feet with just a few sentences, she hadn't said anything nasty about the coffee. And after a moment of thinking, she decided to see that as a compliment. With another smile she putted the cups in the dishwasher, cleaned the off the coffee-machine and putted it off. Time to go home.