Chapter 1 #2
My inner monologue gets interrupted by a deep, soft voice.
“Hey, Ellie—” Patrick clears his throat, and his expression changes from confused to curious. “Uhh, I meant to be here earlier, but I slept in a little.”
He scratches at the back of his neck and turns to walk over to me, causing Greg to take another step back with a disgruntled look on his face. I’m surprised and elated that it’s actually working.
Doing my best to ignore Greg’s existence, I keep the charade going.
“That’s okay, babe. You’ve been working so hard lately; you definitely deserve a little rest,” I say with a flirty tone, desperate for Patrick to continue playing into my ruse.
The machine whirs loudly as I steam Greg’s milk to a hundred and ninety degrees, which is as hot as the machine will let us go without having it bubble over.
“Are we seeing each other this weekend? I work tomorrow morning, but I really was hoping we could spend some time together.”
He moves towards the counter exactly where Greg had been standing, and I’m intrigued by how far I have crane my neck up to see him. Normally, when he waits for his drinks, he stands at the back wall, so I’ve never realized how tall he was until now.
Leaning himself forward, he still speaks loud enough for those around us to hear.
His scent seeps into the air around me, and I am captivated.
It’s difficult to pinpoint exactly what he smells like, but it’s enticing.
His close proximity makes me realize that he is fully committed to the lie, which allows me to relax slightly, but when he gives me a smirk, my chest gets tight.
Fuck, I’ve never seen Patrick look like this.
There is a fire behind those green eyes, making it hard for me to think straight. “Do we have to wait until tomorrow? I was hoping we could see each other tonight.”
If I was not in on the bit, I would think he was flirting with me.
My cheeks warm, but I ignore the feeling, putting a lid on Greg’s drink and placing it on the counter. “Greg! Here’s your extra-extra-extra hot, soy latte!”
He walks up to the counter, grumbling a thanks under his breath.
Without looking in his direction, I give a chipper “Have a wonderful day!” and continue making drinks. He doesn’t deserve any more of my attention, but I let out a big sigh when I hear the door close behind him.
While we haven’t been too busy during this whole escapade, it is my job to make sure we don’t get backed up.
The next three drinks are made at record speed.
The small black iced tea, medium iced chai latte with whole milk, and black iced coffee don’t know what hit them.
I call them out, and when I grab the next cup in line, the bold letters of Patrick’s name jolt me back to reality.
With the relief of Greg leaving, I had completely forgotten that Patrick was still in front of me, elbows propped on the edge of the counter in front of the machines.
But, he has moved himself back to a more appropriate distance, like the decent man he is.
Amused by my gaping stare, he asks, “So, are you going to explain that to me, or should I just assume I am seeing you this weekend?”
The only thing I can think to do is to start apologizing profusely as I pour the shots for his large iced vanilla latte, trying to avoid eye contact.
“Oh my god. I am so sorry. So extremely sorry. More sorry than anyone has ever been!” I stumble over my words, trying to explain and avoid eye contact at the same time.
“I really didn’t mean to pull you into that, but that jerk bag has been bugging me all week, and he kept asking to take me out, and it’s just so creepy!
Ugh, he wouldn’t take no for an answer, so I saw you and I—” When I finally get the courage to look up, his smirk says it all.
More than anything, he looks oddly entertained, and it catches me off guard. “...you’re not mad?”
“Of course, I’m not mad,” he says, sounding surprised that I even asked the question.
“That guy sounds like an asshole, and you don’t deserve that.
It pisses me off when people can’t catch a hint.
You’re literally stuck here making drinks.
It is not your job to entertain lonely, middle-aged men. I’m sorry that happened to you, Ellie.”
The way he says my name sends a spark through my body. There is a tenderness to his voice that I’ve never heard before.
I put a lid on Patrick’s drink and hand it to him through the machines. “Thank you so much. I’ve got you covered on Monday; it’s the least I can do for you saving my ass.”
He chuckles to himself. “No worries, and if any more jerks bother you, tell them your boyfriend won’t be happy when he finds out.”
The added emphasis to the word boyfriend leaves me flustered. Whether it’s the chaos of what just happened or the potential flirting, I’m a mess.
As he turns to walk towards the door, he shoots me a lopsided smile. “Have a good weekend, Ellie.”
“Yeah, you too,” I say, but my voice trails off.