Boris absolutely loved Angela’s ever-so-slight nod.  The woman was probably overjoyed with either what he just said or did, when it came to Roxy.  Maybe both.  As hot as Roxy was, she obviously acquired quite the reputation.  Not necessarily a good thing to have amongst co-workers, in his opinion anyway.  Angela was a wily creature, and he liked her more for it.  He almost pitied her love interest, no matter the gender.  Or should that be envied instead?<br/><br/>Modest<i>and </i>attractive.  Words that obviously described Emily.  Although Roxy was also attractive, if not more so, Boris didn’t believe there was a modest bone in her body.  He was beginning to learn how Emily seemed against taking credit, or basking in her own limelight.  Typical of her for a friend like Angela to perform the deed.  The pictures were unbelievable!  In fact, he couldn’t tell if some of the treats she’d made were edible or not.  They all, however, clearly belonged on a<i>Día de Muertos </i>shrine.  Boris figured that since she baked goodies, they<i>all </i>had to have been baked for eating.  Still, a few could pass as figurines, and of course, there were the ever-present rainbow colors of skulls.<br/><br/>“I<i>know</i>the owner doesn’t pay you to stand on that side of the counter,” Angela snidely said to Roxy.  It was all Boris could do to suppress a smile at her reminder.  Quite obviously, the Diva possessed no rank, as she slowly and silently made her way back to the other side of the counter.  In passing, Roxy did manage one last glide of her hand across his back.<br/><br/>The pair of women and the lone man hunched together and giggled amongst themselves as Roxy meandered past them.  The look she shot the trio of tittering “schoolkids” (for they were surely acting like it) would have easily made Medusa proud.  Sadly for Roxy, none of them turned into stone.  A quick glance toward her and Boris felt a little sorry for her.  She genuinely looked flummoxed as to why Emily was receiving most, if not all, of his attention instead of her.  She’d be fine, he reminded himself, once a new flavor-of-the-week rolled inside the café.<br/><br/>“Absolutely,” he replied, patting both bags of high-octane java.  Why did Boris suddenly get the feeling that they were on stage, albeit a small one, and that numerous pairs of eyes were on them?  Didn’t these people have anything better to do, like their own lives maybe?  And why weren’t their noses buried in their phones like everyone seemed to be doing these days?<br/><br/>“Monday through Thursday, huh?” Boris reiterated, wishing to be crystal clear on her work days.  “Those times almost sound like my schedule at the shop.  Which also reminds me, I sometimes walk to and from my workplace, and in order to access<i>Blue’s Café</i>, I need to take a two-block detour.”  He smiled at Emily while winking at Angela.  “What’s two blocks?” he asked no one in particular.<br/><br/>Draining the remainder of his<i>Americano</i>, he slyly stated while again tapping the coffee bags, “Besides, I don’t have to necessarily wait for these bad boys to be empty before coming back.”  Raising and shaking his now empty cup, Boris concluded, “I could always use one or two of these on my way to work, or on my way home.”  Good coffee would come in handy when RPing with<i>GhostWriter.  </i>Imperial IPA, on the other hand, was reserved for<i>Shadow Queen</i>, if not something altogether stiffer, still focusing on a drink, of course.<br/><br/>Was it just his imagination, or did he hear one of the three relocated women to his left clap?  Turning their way, Boris actually caught them high-fiving each other, while one also hoisted her coffee cup to him signifying a toast.  As clear as the running water in a mountain stream, these people had no lives.  He was, however, quite happy to have made their day.