Fern noticed the problem at exactly 8:07 a.m.
That was the time when Fern’s usually filled with the wake and bakers — the regulars who showed up blurry-eyed, half-awake, and deeply committed to starting the day in the calmest way possible.
Today?
Three people.
One plant.
An uncomfortable amount of silence.
Fern stared at the door like it had personally betrayed her.
“They’ve gone to Joe,” she said flatly.
Nugs, who had been pretending not to panic, immediately panicked.
“That’s impossible,” he said. “We offer vibes.”
“Yes,” Fern replied. “But Joe offers caffeine that tastes like forgiveness.”
Across town, Joe’s Coffee Shop was absolutely thriving.
People stood in line smiling. Smiling. At 8:15 in the morning.
Someone laughed gently while holding a latte.
Another person said, “He just knows my order.”
A third whispered, “Joe told me I’d have a good day and I believed him.”
Fern watched through the window like a nature documentary.
“They’re getting their morning cup of Joe from Joe,” she muttered. “Literally.”
Nugs cracked his knuckles. “Alright. Time for market research.”
“No,” Fern said.
“Undercover market research.”
“Absolutely not.”
Too late.
Nugs reappeared twenty minutes later wearing sunglasses indoors, a borrowed hoodie, and a confidence level that suggested he thought this was working.
“I’ll blend,” he said.
“You never blend,” Fern replied.
Joe’s shop went quiet the moment Nugs walked in.
A customer squinted at him.
“…Nugs?”
Nugs froze.
“Nope,” he said quickly. “Different guy. Common face.”
“That’s definitely Nugs,” someone else said.
Nugs laughed nervously. “People say that all the time.”
“No they don’t.”
Joe looked up from the espresso machine, smiling calmly.
“Medium roast?” Joe asked.
Nugs blinked. “How did you—”
“Extra shot,” Joe continued. “You’re stressed.”
Nugs sat down immediately.
A regular leaned over. “You trying to spy on us?”
“What? No,” Nugs said. “I’m just… a guy. A guy who needed free WiFi.”
“That explains the disguise,” someone said.
Joe slid the cup across the counter.
Nugs took a sip.
His shoulders dropped.
His jaw unclenched.
His notebook fell out of his hoodie pocket.
“…Oh,” Nugs said quietly. “This is what it’s like when things just… work.”
Joe leaned in. “It’s not about margins.”
Nugs winced. “Please don’t say that word.”
Joe smiled. “It’s about mornings.”
By mid-morning, Nugs returned to Fern’s, defeated but enlightened.
“They’re not abandoning us,” he said. “They’re just… double-dipping.”
Fern raised an eyebrow.
“Coffee first,” Nugs explained. “Then… us.”
Fern considered this.
“…Okay,” she said. “I can live with second stop energy.”
Outside, folks passed by cheerfully, coffee cups in hand, waving like nothing was wrong.
Joe waved back from across the street.
Fern shook her head, smiling despite herself.
“Fine,” she said. “Let him have mornings.”
Because in Lucky Now, there was room for good coffee and good green.
Even if it meant Nugs never went undercover again.
Which everyone agreed was for the best.