Isabella was on to her fourth coffee. She was pretending to be waiting for a friend but truth be known, she was just perving at the good looking Barista. He had it all. Freshly roasted beans, ground to order, precision tampering, fast to engage and a crema that would make even the coffee gods weep with joy. Double shot short black, long macchiato, flat white, soy latte – the choice was endless. Isabella believed that she could withstand the caffeine overdose in the name of the good looking Barista…. if only she knew his name. And then she gazed into the Barista’s beautiful green eyes as he cleaned his frothing wand. His name didn’t matter any more. He will only ever be known to Isabella as The Good Looking Barista.