Chapter 8
I love coffee. In particular, I love the smell of coffee. Even after years of working in a diner that was thick with the aroma of brewing coffee and fried food, I never tired of it.
It wasn't even just from working there. I had grown up in that diner, sitting in the kitchen watching my mother as she washed dishes and unpacked boxes from the supplier and made pot after pot of coffee. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that smell permeated my entire childhood. I'm sure even when I was home I could still smell it on my clothes and my mother's.
Now that I lived at the charm school, the smell of that coffee had changed. Mr. Trevor favored a dark roast, with its richer aroma. But he only made a pot in the morning, and when that was gone, we all drank tea.
I hadn't realized how m
