21. Scheduled
21
Scheduled
For days, I couldn't stop smiling–and not just because my job required it. I pranced from the line to the sleigh, floating on cloud nine and my memories of the festival. Even Frosty Santa mirrored my joy today, smirking every time I skipped, though he was too busy with kids to ask me about it.
Chestnut made time to tease me by following me to the tree cove at the start of my break. “Someone had a good time," he said.
I grinned and grabbed my phone. “Twinkly lights, a nice guy. What’s not to like?”
“Does this mean you’ll get me coffee again?” he asked.
“Yes.” One of the joys of exchanging schedules with Harvey meant I always knew when I could look forward to seeing him. We already had a date for next week.
Chestnut drummed his fingers on the table. “Good. I’m exhausted from auditions and finals. I applied to Fancee’s for a job, but did you hear they’re laying off a lot of the holiday staff come January?”
I gasped. “Oh no.” I thought business would be booming. Hopefully, my lunch buddy would be okay.
Chestnut shrugged. “That's retail. So, what are your plans for after Christmas when we’re let loose from our stockings?”
My chest tightened and I backed up against a tree, its branches rustling at my backside. “I-I don’t know, yet. The Nice bonus should tide me over.”
“Yeah, depending how much we get.” Chestnut scoffed.
“Chestnut,” Mr. Hoynes called.
Chestnut scowled and readjusted his hat. “Ah, sh–”
“Sugarplum,” I reminded him, shoving candy canes into his hands so at least he could pretend he was restocking for the kids. No wonder he wasn’t counting on the bonus.
“I’ll send you coffee money at the end of the shift.” Chestnut bolted back to the floor, leaving me with thoughts heavier than Santa’s boots thudding on a roof.
What was I supposed to do? We didn’t have that much longer until Christmas. Then, my perfect winter would be over. I’d have to turn in my bell shoes and hat and suppress Sugarplum sweetness for another ten months. If I didn’t have another job lined up, Mom would definitely make me babysit. Plus, I’d see Harvey way less without being able to pop by on my lunch break.
I gathered my stuff, wrapped myself in my winter coat, and ran to The Bern. The fresh scent of cinnamon melted some of my stress away.
Harvey poked out from behind a steaming machine and grinned. “Hey, I thought I heard you come in.”
I skipped up to the counter to jingle extra for him. “How is your day so far?”
“Busy. A lot better now that you’re here.” The warmth in his eyes sharpened as he glanced at the order screen. “One minute.”
“No worries. I understand you have serious duties.” I saluted him, earning a fond head-shake, before I placed my order with the cashier.
Man-bun Mario demurely tapped the screen. “You should come by more often. I feel like you motivate him.”
Heat flushed my cheeks. “What do you mean?”
“He does the annoying chores for us so he can chat with you without feeling guilty,” Mario said.
“Don’t you have a job to do?” Harvey chided from behind the machines.
I giggled and walked over to the counter. “You’re in manager mode already, making sure people are at maximum efficiency.”
He smirked over his shoulder. “How am I doing?”
“Lovely. A little snarky, but very commanding," I said, leaning on the ledge.
He tugged his hat down. “Thanks for noticing.”
“See? He’s nice to you ,” Mario called.
“He knows Santa’s watching.” I winked, then turned to Harvey and lowered my voice. “By the way, when do you want to start your training?”
“Whenever,” he said.
I needed a distraction and possibly relief. “How about tonight?”
“Tonight?” He raised his eyebrows as the dispenser hissed.
Was I too eager? I fiddled with a coffee sleeve. “Or our next day off. Our date next week? But we both opened today, so I thought maybe…”
He gently pulled my hand away from the sleeves. “I want to, but I might not get out right when my schedule says. You know how it is.”
“Yeah, I know.” Chaos reigned supreme. When our jobs needed us, we stayed. I rarely had the heart to turn away families at the end of the night. Who’d want a memory of being rejected by Santa? Or Harvey, for that matter? If he wanted to be with me, he would find a way. I sunk onto my heels. “Never mind. We can hang out some other time.”
“I’ll look at our schedules and text you.” He rolled his lip ring between his teeth. “Which cup sleeve do you want?”
“Snowflake, please.”
Once he handed me the order, I headed for the door.
“You’re not staying?” he called.
“Not today. I have something to do.” I flashed him a smile on my way out. I didn’t have the energy to mask my anxiety about this whole job thing. If I ate fast, I’d have time to color in the car. There wasn’t a single 'Help Wanted' sign posted in any of the store displays. Didn’t anyone need a person with a positive mental attitude in their ranks? Not that Mom would find any of these jobs good enough. But at least I’d get money doing something other than child-wrangling.
I dropped off Chestnut’s coffee and hurried to the break room, where my pseudo-friend’s bright green Fancee’s shirt caught my eye. “Can I sit?”
She pulled out an earbud. “Yeah. How’ve you been?”
“Good.” That was usually the extent of our conversations, but today I clenched my sandwich and hurried to ask a question before she put her earbud back in. “Do you know of any open positions at Fancee’s? Or do they lean towards layoffs after the holiday season?”
She frowned at her phone. “I think my manager was talking about scaling back hours. Other departments are definitely letting people go.”
“Firing people after the holidays is so mean.”
She shrugged and continued scrolling. “They made their money.”
Now, how was I supposed to make my living? I huffed at my mushy tuna salad sandwich.
Why couldn’t I hold onto the magic a little longer? An amusement park wasn’t too far away if I wanted to be a character in general. But that was only open in summer. I had to find something else. I would . I tore a hunk of sandwich with my teeth and chewed it diligently. That Nice bonus would have to tide me over.
A chair screeched and someone vaguely protested at the table next to me. Harvey flipped a chair around and sidled up next to me. “No PB and J today?”
“I ran out of jelly,” I said sheepishly. Mom probably didn’t buy any more in a passive aggressive protest against me dating a guy with piercings. Especially since I already 'chose' him over the family. But I was a big girl. I had my own life, sometimes. Assuming I could afford it. After work, I would swing by the grocery store and see if they had any job applications. But if I worked there, my family would want me to run errands for them every day. Part of me wanted to flop on the table and have a mini pity party, but I’d rather not do that in front of Harvey and Fancee lady, who was staring at us with one eyebrow raised.
“This is Harvey, my boyfr–er, barista,” I said, brushing crumbs from my traitorous lips. We’d only been on one date and I was already laying claim to him. And what was Fancee lady’s name? I vaguely gestured across the table, ignoring Harvey’s smirk. “Why don’t you introduce yourself so I can get a feel for your people skills?”
He frowned and nudged my knee. “Seriously?”
I nodded encouragingly. This would be easy.
He gave me a deliciously dark look promising that I’d pay for this later, then faced my friend with a bit of a huff. “Hey, I’m Harvey. I work at the Bern. I’m dating Shelby.”
My friend tugged on her lime green t-shirt. “I’m Nicole. Fancee’s footwear. Dating a musician.”
“That was great.” I clapped.
Snorting, Harvey shook his head. “You’re easy to impress.”
“Lucky for you,” I joked back.
Nicole good-naturedly rolled her eyes, then popped her other earbud in.
Whoops, was I batting my eyelashes too much? It was hard not to flirt with Harvey now that I knew he liked me back.
“This is only the beginning.” I nudged Harvey closer to the people beside us. “Now should we try that table?”
He curled his arm around the back of my chair and pulled me closer. “You can’t get rid of me that easily. How about we hang out tomorrow? It’ll give me time to clean.”
I covered my smile with my hand to contain the smell of tuna salad and desperation. “Sounds like a plan. Do you want to eat something?”
Hopefully, he wouldn’t mind tasting a naughty, sweet little thing like me.