Leyla Had Settled Down In A Beach Chair With Her Book And Tumbler, Looking Up On Occasion At All The

Leyla has happy to see more and more people discover Mawk Tales and start to come in when they were in the mood for a mocktail, but she still had to keep working. The momentum of the new(er) wouldn't last forever. It was up to her to make it into something. "Also delicious," she said, pausing as she noticed him continue to look over the menu. "We have a flight option too if you want to try a few. It comes with any four you want."

Alec was on his way back home from work when he decided to drop in by Mawk Tales for a bit. While Anchors Away was his usual hang out, mocktails were probably the better option at the moment. "Uhh.. let me do the sparkling blackberry lemonade," his eyes stayed glued to the menu as he spoke, double checking the options to make sure that was what he wanted. His attention finally turned back to Leyla once he was sure. "I'll try the strawberry basil one too."

Leyla wanted her place to be as good as any other bar, and you could always send those drinks back too. Even if she was very confident in the quality of her menu, everyone had different tastes. "The option is always available," she promised. Since it was her recommendation, Leyla did hope she'd like it. "That's what I thought," she replied with a laugh. "Okay, I'll do it then. Maybe I'll take your recommendation on your favorite flavors." Her brow briefly furrowed as the other woman laughed before she explained. "Good thing I sent the last one into early retirement, so there's a vacancy," she teased, "but I think that's perspective, it could make you an angel."

Valentina nodded. She didn't want the brunette to go out of her way just for her drink but she appreciated the gesture. "I'm sure it'll be just fine." After all, she seemed to know what she was doing with all the mocktails and smoothies. "I'm the only adult who allows them to eat candies, of course I'm their favorite person," she joked. "But yes please, come and have a look. I'll make you an ice cream, if you're not into candy." All of a sudden, she let out a short laugh as she realized something, "You're making me a healthy drink and I'm offering you candy in return, I feel like a little devil on your shoulder."

Leyla knew it. Though not the world's best judge of character, she was pretty confident in her guess this time. "I thought of making a Pumpkin Spice mocktail, but I worried I'd be too cliche, so I settled for Autumn Spice and Pumpkin Pie as separate beings. Maybe I should reconsider?" She smiled brightly at the woman's selections, "no drink minimums here. The only cutoff is closing time, and even then, I'm flexible." As she started on her drink, she asked, "did you enjoy Creek Fest? I've never seen people so invested in town activities like they are here. I mean, New York events were busy, of course, but it's just a different energy if that makes sense."

Grinning widely at Leyla's assessment, Nari nodded her head eagerly. "I am a girl who loves a seasonal specialty. Which is me admitting to be one of those pumpkin spice latte people," first day that Cobblestone broke out the fall menu, Nari was in line. And if Maw Tales was going to have a good drink to make her think of falling leaves and jack-o-lanterns, golden sunsets and brisk walks in the morning, then she was going to tae it. "How about…" she licked her lips thoughtfully. "Let's go with the Autumn Spice first, and then I'll try the Pumpkin Pie Martini mocktail next? No rule that says I can't have the best of both worlds, right?"

"Thank you," Leyla replied, still beaming. It was maybe her favorite thing about the business she decided to open: the creativity. She hadn't previously considered herself a very creative person, but this had brought beautiful new challenges. "Easy peasy," she laughed. "Oh, blue curaçao is a liqueur, the syrup substitutes for that to make it non-alcoholic, so you'd just take out that syrup and add the liqueur. Voila, mocktail becomes cocktail." She believed in their being a time for everything, so she didn't have any problem making the suggestion. Especially since the woman did confirm she'd also like to check her place out. "I would love to have you stop by. I offer flight options as well, so you can sample a bit of different things. I can pick out my prettiest ones for you. We'll eventually have some live music nights too, so that'll be something to come enjoy."

"Well, I have to say this is probably the most beautiful drink I've ever seen." Ryn admitted, taking a look at it, trying to really get an idea for how beautiful the drink was. "Oh that's some simple stuff that people just have laying around a lot anyways." she smiled. "It looks delicious. In the chance someone wanted the alcoholic version, what would you suggest they put int it? Though, you did such a good job I may have to just come down to Mawk Tales a lot and get some of these."

Giving him a little nod that he had it right, Leyla offered a little smile with the finished result. It was already making their home feel cozier, which wasn't something she was used to...but she was getting there. She'd never experienced home in this way before, and it was foreign but warm. The ice around her seemed to melt in this space, as strange as that sounded. Placing the sheet of seeds into the oven as instructed, she listened as he talked a bit about his childhood. It sounded a bit like a movie or 60's TV show. She could just imagine a tinier Dare running around with his siblings and a warm-hearted mother figure gathering them up for holiday festivities. "It felt very much like you," she mused, "what are some other traditions from your mom?"

Seeing her gesture, Darrius stepped the tiniest bit to the side, glancing back up to see if he had it right, and then carefully securied it where it needed to be, stepping back to admire his handy work. Sure, it was a simple garland. Yes, it was probably laughable to most people who went all out for Halloween. But to Darrius, who liked the pumpkins and leaves and corn stalks and watching Casper and Hocus Pocus and The Great Pumpkin… it made him feel good. Turning back to the kitchen, he looked at the seeds that she spread out, and nodded his head, "looks great! I already set the oven, so we should just be able to pop 'em in and let them do their thing," and then they would have a tasty snack when their other housemates arrived home. "I do! My mom taught me how, she'd always make me and my siblings save our pumpkin guts just so we could make these."

"Oh, definitely. I have a row or two on my bookshelf basically dedicated to those," she admitted, which pretty much consisted of non-business books as that's all she'd been soaking up lately. "I'll probably need something like when I finish my current list."

"Some books you buy in good faith and never get around to reading, right?" She knew who she was, with her cheap romance novels and tasty thrillers. That's what she liked. "I would, especially if you want something that doesn't require much thinking."

"Thanks," Leyla murmured, so maybe she didn't give him enough credit on the customer service front. As soon as the question left her mouth, though, she was sure it was a stupid question. Maybe she was more talking herself into it. There was a time in her life when she could barely keep herself alive, so the idea of caring for a living animal all on her own was daunting. However, she supposed she wasn't alone. Like with Darrius's dogs, they all cared for them. "I imagine it's hard to be here every day and not at least take one home with you. What's your cat's name?"

Ever since Chandler's trip to Mock Tales, he noticed whenever the owner came into his cafe. This was only due to the fact he'd been watching her to make sure she didn't realize he was drinking at a sober bar, but she didn't need to know that detail. Honestly, he couldn't remember her name but he did remember her drink order and before she even approached him, he was already working the espresso machine. He nodded to her in greeting, but didn't say anything until she ordered. "I'm on it." He confirmed, then turned his attention more to her when she said she had a stupid question. There's no such thing as a stupid question was the customer service response, but he was too busy wondering just how idiotic her question would be. Pretty dumb, he decided. They did have the name of the shelter shown in a few places around the cafe, but when it came to someone being interested in adopting one of these kittens he wasn't going to be mean and possibly discourage them. "Yeah, all of them. We work with a local shelter to find homes for them. I adopted my cat from here, actually."

Leyla usually tried to keep her looking back to therapy sessions, especially to that time, this man. However, looking directly at him made that part hard to ignore. If she was supposed to feel any relief he was still alive, it was jumbled up in all the other emotions she was rapidly trying to process. Fury was winning out as she stared at her own personal nightmare.

She waited for an explanation, one she hoped would be just stumbling through, not here to hurt kind, trusting people. None was offered as he looked at her like he was just struck dumb. "Yes, I do," she snipped, "I finally started my own business. It's called Mawk Tales, it's here on the coast." Part of her still told him like she hoped he'd be proud, but if he actually said that, she might lose her shit in front of all of these people. "What are you doing here? These people still trust--at least most of them seem to, and you and I both know that you are not built to hold anyone's trust."

Vitus had lost the borders of his twenties to a head-fogged downward spiral, crafted by his parents and accelerated by his own hand. Without structure, his memories had buckled and bent inward toward each other. Some had collapsed entirely. He'd carried the pieces with him ever since. And now, up from the rubble of those years, Leyla rose like pinpoint-sharp debris, resurrected. She brought the same blaze with which she'd bitten him during those last few conversations they had. Her rage had followed him cross-country back then, bleeding across the width of the States. Before his eyes had even finished clearing, his skin began to itch. With flame, with scar tissue, with memory.

She looked the same. No, she looked better, healthier, than he recalled. Even as decade-old remorse slammed him sideways, squeezing all the breath from his lungs at once, he couldn't help but feel a touch of relief at that. Despite everything, she'd made it to her thirties. So many other loved ones from back then hadn't. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came right away, so he closed it again. Another few blinks, like he couldn't be sure she was real. And then, stupidly, quietly, "Leyla? What are you—What? You live here now?"

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