Brianna, the barista

Brianna hasn’t been at the coffee shop for long. She had been working for a tech startup that went belly up, leaving her in need of a short-term job to pay a few bills. You know that she’s been sending out resumes non-stop, and any day now, some company will make her an offer, and she’ll be gone, leaving nothing behind at the coffee shop but the fading smell of her perfume.

She greets you warmly, as usual, when you come in the door. She’s in her mid-twenties, black, with her hair cut short. She’s wearing a purple t-shirt with the shop’s name on it, and though you can’t tell for sure, you expect she’s wearing her usual tight-fitting blue jeans.

You order your favorite eye-opener, and she runs your coffee club card through the cash register. It beeps at her, and she peers at the screen, then looks up at you in surprise. “Oh! It’s your birthday!”

“That’s right.”

“Well, the cash register says you get a free drink today. And I say you get...hmm…” She looks around. It’s just the two of you in the shop, and no other vehicles are in the parking lot. Then she looks back at you, with mischief in her eyes.