Chapter 16 Tate
TATE
“Give him hell, girl,” Ashley whispers as the bell chimes and Sullivan strides in like he owns the place.
It’s been days since he sent me those texts. What the hell does he want?
I straighten my spine as he bypasses the line and walks straight to the counter where I’m taking payment from a customer.
“Tate. We need to talk.”
His cool blue eyes fix on my face, but I don’t give him any more than a brief glance before I smile at the man and take the card machine back.
“Your drink will be at the end in a few minutes.”
“Thanks,” the man replies, giving me a quick glance up and down before he throws a generous tip into the jar.
“Tate.” Sullivan tries again, but I keep my gaze forward.
“Who’s next, please?”
The couple’s eyes are fixed on the menu board, still deciding.
“Tate,” Sullivan says, his voice lowering. “I’ve been calling you. I couldn’t get through. Did you block me?”
I snort. He’s so full of himself if he thinks I would go to the trouble of blocking him in case he called me again.
“Why were you calling?” I keep facing forward but lower my voice, aware of the waiting line. “What are you going to accuse me of stealing this time? It’s obviously not your human decency, seeing as you already lost that.”
I finally look at him and his eyes are waiting to pin me in place with an intensity that scorches the back of my neck.
“I’m…” A vein pulses in his temple like he’s finding it hard to get his words out. “I’m sorry. I know you didn’t take it.”
“I told you that a week ago,” I reply, turning my attention back to the couple who are ready to order.
Who does he think he is? Barging in here like this. Does he expect me to accept his apology just like that? Like I haven’t spent days feeling like crap and not sleeping because of what he did.
“Tate?” Sullivan leans over the counter in front of the customers and I glare at him.
“There’s a line,” I hiss.
His eyes narrow and his nostrils flare. “Fine,” he forces out. He turns and walks to the back of the line, then stands there in his navy suit, arms folded, and legs spread in an arrogant asshole stance.
I keep serving, listening to Ashley’s grumbles and derisions as she fixes the drinks. Sullivan seems unaffected by the death glares she’s sending his way. His eyes remain fixed on me until only one person remains in the line ahead of him.
Taking my time serving the woman, I engage in extra chat about what her plans are for the day, drawing out my interaction with her for as long as possible. Sullivan’s brow is creased so deeply when she finally moves along that I’m surprised I can’t see his skull.
“Tate—”
“What will it be?” I fake a smile.
A muscle in his jaw twitches and he reaches for his wallet and pulls out his card. “The usual.”
“I’m sorry, what’s that?”
Ashley snorts behind me and Sullivan purses his lips like he’s just sucked a lemon.
To think I used to feel intimidated by him.
I was so quiet in his presence. Not myself at all.
I found him imposing and difficult to talk to.
Rude, frankly. I felt so out of place in his company.
But I no longer give a shit what he thinks of me, seeing as he’s already shown me his opinion of me couldn’t get any lower by calling me a thief.
The only thing I want to steal is the mistaken idea his over-inflated ego has that I’ll forgive him easily.
“Latte, double shot, please,” he says through gritted teeth.
I hold out the card machine and he pays.
“It’ll be ready down at the end,” I tell him.
Ashley clears her throat pointedly and he arches a brow before he pulls a wad of notes out of his wallet without counting them and tosses them into the tip jar.
I start making his drink.
“Tate?”
“Sorry. Can’t hear you over the milk frother.” I hold his eyes as I press the button, cutting him off again as he opens his mouth.
He grumbles something, his hands resting on his hips as he waits for me to make his drink.
“Cocoa dick,” Ashley whispers as she moves past me to take over serving the line.
“Blocking me wasn’t necessary,” Sullivan grumbles as I place his cup on the counter and reach for the cocoa.
“I didn’t. I changed my number for another reason. The world doesn’t revolve around you.”
His brows perk. I bet no one’s ever spoken to him like this before. It makes a thrill dance up my spine, despite the fact a small part of me still threatens to go all awkward in his presence. I can’t help it. When he stares at you like he is right now, it’s unnerving. He’s so… intense.
“Fine,” he grits. “Whatever the reason, I need your new one. I want you to come back.”
I pause with the cocoa, then place it down and slide his un-dusted latte to him. “No.”
“No?” He splutters like he can’t possibly have heard me correctly. “I said I was sorry, because I am. I’m sorry, Tate. I was wrong.”
He leans closer and I have to fight back the involuntary urge to shiver under his undivided attention.
“I appreciate the apology, but my answer is still no. You made me feel like a criminal. Like some low-class liar.”
His jaw ticks and his attention fixes on his coffee. But when I take my hand back, his gaze follows it. It’s not the coffee he’s looking at. It’s my bracelet. I tuck my hand into my apron pocket and wait.
“I’m sorry,” he repeats slowly. “Don’t let my error affect my daughter. Please.”
I stare at him, my throat thickening.
“Now, can I have your new number?” He hitches one dark brow in question and my breath stalls in my lungs. His blue eyes burn into mine, heating me all the way from my toes to the top of my head.
“Hell no!” Ashley storms over before I give in.
“Don’t go using that cute little girl as your bargaining tool.
You want Tate’s new number? Well, Buddy, you can earn it.
” She grabs Sullivan’s latte and dusts a messy digit onto it.
“There!” she declares. “That’s one. Buy another drink and ask nicely and you might get another. ”
Sullivan holds my eyes and clenches his jaw so hard it looks painful. He clears his throat, then calmly takes out his wallet, handing Ashley his card, still only looking at me.
“Put everyone’s orders on this.”
I glance at the line. There are people waiting and more coming in through the door.
“If you insist.” Ashley gives him a sickly-sweet smile as she plucks his card from his hand.
Sullivan stands to one side, his hands stuffed into his suit pants and a scowl on his face while Ashley and I jump into action to clear the line. He lifts his chin, his attention fixed on the next drink I make as the cocoa duster hovers over it.
“Oh, would you look at that? We’re out.” Ashley fakes an apologetic smile as she takes the duster from me and gives it a shake, pretending it’s empty.
“Use that one,” Sullivan grits, jerking his sharp jaw toward another duster sitting on the counter. Ashley knocks it onto the floor with her elbow and the lid flies off, letting the powder spill out.
“Oops. Sorry. Looks like you’ll have to come back another day.” She hands him his card.
I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. I’m internally high-fiving myself for standing up to him, but I don’t have the balls that Ashley does.
He doesn’t say anything, but the vein in his temple looks like it’s about to rupture. He slowly places a takeaway lid on his cup, then turns his attention to the line of waiting customers.
“Enjoy your drinks,” he says smoothly.
I stare at him, waiting for him to speak to me. His eyes narrow, and he lifts the cup to his lips and takes a drink, keeping his eyes on mine. The muscles in his thick neck contract, before he lowers the cup and licks a faint hint of foam from the perfect cupid’s bow of his lips.
Something sparks in his eyes, but he turns and walks out without saying a word.