Chapter 13 Freddie
Freddie
“No, nope, no way! Turn around and walk right back out that door, mister!”
I look up from the table I’m cleaning, shocked to hear Anna speaking to a customer this way.
Only it’s not a customer.
Shaun’s bulky frame is halfway through the doorway, cradling a couple of Tupperware boxes in his arms. He’s wearing a cable knit jumper and a frayed pair of pale blue jeans.
They’re baggier than his black ones which is probably a good thing—less eye-catching, although I’m still fighting not to stare.
There’s a freshness to him today, like he’s had a good sleep. His beard is neatly trimmed and his thick brown hair is tousled in a “I swear I woke up like this” style. Ugh. Why does he have to look so good? Especially now I know he’s out-of-bounds.
At Anna’s outburst, Shaun hesitates, his eyes darting nervously between Anna and I like a schoolboy caught stealing sweets.
He steps inside and the door swings shut behind him. “I’m just—”
“Couldn’t stay away, could you?” Anna scowls, her hands on her hips.
Shaun glances at me again. For some reason, my stomach fills with dread. If today’s his day off, why is he here? Maybe he’s decided my behaviour was inexcusable after all and he’s come along to sack me in person.
But then he smiles, a big, goofy grin that says “whoops, I’ve really done it now.”
He’s not angry! Does that mean he’s forgiven me? I smile back at him and, before I can stop myself, give him a wink.
Down boy, I scold myself.
Thankfully, Shaun doesn’t seem to register the wink. He strolls up to the counter and places the Tupperware on top of the display fridge.
“Apple flapjacks,” he says, loud enough that I can hear.
Anna glares at him. Despite being half his size, she’s got some serious terrier energy about her. She’s been on my case since I arrived, criticising my sub-par coffee skills and drilling me on proper technique. As much as I’m starting to get the hang of things, I prefer Shaun as a teacher.
“You should be at home,” Anna reprimands him as though he’s her child and not the guy who pays her wages.
Shaun picks nervously at his sleeve. “I’m not staying. I just came to drop these off.” He turns to me. “How’s your shift going, Freddie?”
“Good!” I say, giving the table a final wipe. “I’ve been—”
“It’s been very quiet since Freddie started,” Anna interrupts. “There’s nothing to worry about.”
Shaun nods. “Right. Good.”
So she hasn’t told him about my disastrous shift yesterday? Probably for the best.
I sidle up to the counter and catch the subtle smell of woody aftershave coming from Shaun. Damn, he even smells great.
“Anna’s been showing me how to do latte art,” I say, proudly. “So cool how you can make the little designs. I want to learn how to do a—”
“You’re going to make yourself ill, Shaun!” Anna cuts across me again, her voice crescendoing to fill the café. Luckily, our only customer is using the bathroom.
Shaun shuffles his feet. “I know, I know. I just thought I’d check if you’re alright—”
“We’re fine, Shaun. Please, go home!”
Shaun’s face reddens. I sense he wasn’t expecting to be berated for dropping off a couple of boxes of flapjacks, especially at his own café.
I’m a little taken aback too. While I get Anna being hard on me, I’m surprised by her brazen attitude towards our poor boss.
When she said he needs support, I didn’t think she meant publicly spanking him with a two-by-four.
Clearly he’s just checking in because he’s protective of his baby.
An idea springs to mind.
“Why don’t you hang around?” I suggest, innocently.
Anna’s head snaps around to face me. If lasers shot out of her eyes, I wouldn’t be surprised.
“He hasn’t had a day off in months,” she explains. “Working every day is not healthy—”
“I agree!” My turn to interject. “What I mean is why don’t you grab a table and chill for a bit?”
Shaun’s eyebrows fly up his forehead. “Chill?”
I shrug. “You’ve been working like a madman since you opened, right?” He grimaces and nods. “So, you’ve not had a chance to experience the fruits of your labour as a customer?”
“What are you suggesting?” Shaun asks.
“Yes. What are you suggesting?” Anna parrots him.
“I’m suggesting that if you can’t keep away, hang out and enjoy a coffee and some cake. Then you can see that we have things under control, right Anna?”
There’s an awkward silence. From the back, the toilet flushes and our lone customer emerges from the bathroom, drying his hands on his trousers. He must sense the tension in the air because he glances nervously between myself, Shaun, and Anna like one of us might detonate.
I step forward, grabbing the customer's attention. “Can I get you anything else, sir?”
As I follow the man to his table with a menu, I look over my shoulder and gesture for Shaun to take a seat, treating him like I would any other customer.
“I’ll be right with you,” I say.
He and Anna stare at me, baffled, but by the time I’ve taken the man’s order, Shaun’s dutifully sitting at a window table with the edge-of-the-seat apprehension of someone about to get a tooth extracted.
Jeez, this guy really needs to learn to chill out.
Luckily my relaxation skills extend beyond the bedroom.
“Hello there, sir!” I say like we’ve never met before. “Is it your first time here?”
Shaun emits a dry laugh. For a moment I think he’s not going to play along, but then he shakes his head in defeat.
“It sure is,” he says. “Nice place you’ve got here.”
“Oh it’s not mine,” I explain. “I’m afraid the owner isn’t here today. He’s been working like a maniac lately, so we’ve given him the day off.”
Shaun beams. “Well I’m sure I’m in good hands.”
“Of course! He only hires the best here,” I puff out my chest. “So, is there anything you fancy?”
Shaun sits back in his chair. “Yeah. A flat white, please.”
I write “fw” on my notepad; I’m getting there with all the coffee names but memorising multiple orders is a whole new ball game.
“One flat white coming right up.” I turn my act up to full salesman mode. “By the way, we’ve got some amazing new apple flapjack today. Just came in, actually. Best in the country. Can I tempt you?”
Shaun rolls his eyes. “Sure, but don’t oversell it.”
We share a smile and I write “afj” on my notepad.
“Coming right up. Oh, and my name’s Freddie if you need anything. Unless you want to make a complaint, of course. In which case, I’m Jim Fakename.”
Shaun chuckles. “Thank you, Freddie. Nice to meet you.”
Acting or not, he looks content, and more relaxed than I’ve ever seen him. I knew this was a good idea. Maybe I’m a genius. Or maybe he’s just relieved I’m not flirting with him anymore—this isn’t flirting, by the way. This is just… role play.
Anna’s waiting for me behind the counter, mouth pursed.
“It’s quite bold to tell your boss to take a seat in his own café," she says.
“I guess,” I begin plating up Shaun’s flapjack and a cherry scone for the other customer. Because I am feeling bold, I add, “So is telling him to get out, to be fair.”
Anna’s eyes narrow. I’m sure I’m about to get a bollocking for being cheeky, but then she looks down at the tickets, trying to decode my handwriting.
“New orders?” she asks, sternly.
“Shaun’s having a flat white with this,” I wiggle the plate with the flapjack on it, “and the other guy’s just having a scone.”
“Right,” Anna takes the scone from me. “I’ll bring this to him. You can make the flat white.”
“Me?” I ask, surprised. Making a coffee for Shaun feels like a premature time to take the training wheels off. “Are you sure?”
“Why not? You have to practice. Don’t worry, I’ll help you if it turns out bad. But I have faith in you.”
And with that, she takes the scone and fucks off, leaving me with the coffee machine and a million ways to screw this up.
I stare at the big metal beast with all its confusing buttons and knobs. Using it still feels like trying to pilot the Death Star on a provisional driver's license. Why am I getting so nervous over a cup of coffee?
For some reason, my argument with Rory rushes back into my head and I’m filled with the powerful urge to do something without having my hand held.
I steal a glance over at Shaun’s table and catch him looking at me.
He’s probably waiting to see if I’ll burn the place down or not.
After our rocky start, I don’t just want to prove him wrong, I want to impress him.
Trying my best to remember what he taught me, I grab a jug of milk from the fridge and push the button on the grinder.
I can do this.