The Status Situation (A Series of Unfortunate Meet-Cutes #1)

Chapter 1

One

Maria

Sunlight streams through the windows at The Brew, and though we have the air conditioning cranked to full blast, it’s warming the coffee shop to a near-uncomfortable level.

Thankfully, it’s still much cooler in here than it is outside, and our afternoon patrons seem to be grateful for it.

To be honest, so am I, because the heat and I don’t really get along.

The delicious smell of freshly ground coffee beans permeates the air, and there’s a sense of relaxing calm that settles over the place.

However, I’ve been tasked with making the iced drinks today, on the hottest day of the week.

While making them has been helping me stay cool, the fact that it is so warm out means that most people want something cool to drink.

I have been going non-stop nearly my entire shift.

It’s a good thing I love my job.

I’ve been working at The Brew since I dropped out of college a little over a year ago, and though I could get a regular job if I wanted to, like office work or something similar, I like being a barista.

Especially here. I get along really well with my coworkers, even my boss, and there aren’t a lot of people out there who can say that. I feel pretty lucky in that regard.

If I ever need to take a day off, which is rare, there is always someone willing to step in for me, just like I would do for any of them.

This place even brought Darius and me together, and it didn’t take long for the two of us to become best friends.

He moved in with me last year to help offset the cost of living because living anywhere in California is expensive; San Francisco is no different.

Needless to say, we support each other here and help each other out. Here at The Brew, we’re a family.

Glancing at the name scribbled at the top of the iced mocha I just made, I move to the counter.

“Sara!”

The customer named Sara smiles at me as she approaches to take her drink. I thank her, and she turns and walks away, stepping back out into the heat.

After giving my station a quick wipe down, I move to pour a hot coffee for my favorite customer, who is already waiting at the coffee bar. He’s here so often that I know his order by heart, and I’m grateful that there’s a lull in customers so I can take the time to have a quick chat with him.

The shop isn’t that large, and there are only a few tables scattered throughout the old building.

Huge, inviting floor-to-ceiling windows were installed a few months after I got here, and the sitting area is equipped with modern lighting that I helped the boss pick out around the same time.

To the left of the barista station sits a breakfast counter that very few people stay long enough to sit at, but Chase is there at the same time every day, like clockwork. It’s the same today.

Taking one of the ceramic mugs off the shelf, the ones we use for those who like to stay and enjoy their drinks, I fill it with fresh coffee from the pot and add a bit of cream before setting it down in front of Chase with a smile.

He is older now, but still handsome, and I’m sure he was considered a stud back in his day, too.

He also gets a kick out of teasing me every chance he gets, which is a part of his charm and is why I’ve always been fond of the guy.

His gray hair is neatly swept to the side, and, despite his age, he has yet to have any signs of it thinning or balding.

I’ve always found his crooked nose endearing, too.

Judging by the way it sits on his face, I can only assume it’s been broken more than a few times, but I’ve never asked about it because that would be rude.

He just seems like the type of guy who got into a lot of fights when he was younger. He’s scrappy like that.

Apparently, Chase still managed to catch himself a woman whom he loved

more than anything, and he continues to wear his wedding ring to this day, though my boss told me that his wife passed away a few years ago. My heart had broken for him at the time, but he seems to be getting along just fine on his own.

“There you go, grandpa,” I tease him playfully. “Fresh and hot, just the way you like it.”

Instead of returning my smile, Chase frowns down at his mug. “What happened to my little foam leaf?”

“I thought the heart would be better,” I say, my grin broadening at his pout. When he looks up at me again, I wink.

A single, bushy eyebrow shoots up in response. “Are you flirting with me, Maria? Is that what this heart and that mischievous little wink are for?”

“Duh. You’re my favorite.”

When he leans across the bar, I lean toward him as well, my playful smile still firmly in place. “You’re beautiful, hon, don’t get me wrong, but I like my girls a little older,” he says in a hushed tone.

He’s sweet and always telling me how beautiful I am, but no matter how many times I hear it, those words tend to roll right off of me.

I’m not someone that anyone would consider beautiful, but I won’t correct him either.

Like any girl, there’s a part of me that still likes to be complimented, even if that compliment isn’t true.

I laugh, the sound echoing in our little corner. “What’s wrong with younger women? I could use a sugar daddy, you know.”

Sitting fully back on his stool, he harrumphs. “Well, you’ll just have to look elsewhere.”

“Such a shame,” I mumble in a tone that makes him chuckle under his breath. “We could’ve been great together.”

With a shake of his head, he looks at someone behind me and points. “Why don’t you ask him out on a date? He seems like he’d be a good lover, and he’s closer to your age.”

I follow Chase’s line of sight over to Darius, who smiles brightly at the customer he’s currently chatting with, and my eyebrows shoot into my hairline. He’s busy fulfilling an order and has no idea that he’s now the current topic of our conversation, which is probably a good thing.

Darius is attractive—I won’t deny that—with mocha-colored skin, a stocky build, and a naturally charming smile.

He’s also got the greenest eyes I’ve ever seen, but there's one tiny problem with Chase’s suggestion.

No matter how close we are, Darius will never look at me romantically, and not just because we are best friends and roommates.

Stifling my laughter, I turn back toward Chase. “Oh, he’s not interested in me. Trust me.”

“No? And how could you possibly know that? Did you ask him out already or something?”

Pressing my lips together, I quickly try to think of a way to explain this to him so that he will understand. “Well… we’re batting for the same baseball team.”

Chase scowls. “What does baseball have to do with anything?”

I bend at the waist, placing my hands flat against the counter so that I can look him in the eyes. “Same team, Chase.”

Unfortunately, his scowl only deepens. “I heard you. Still doesn’t make a lick of sense.”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake. He doesn’t like women,” I exclaim, throwing up my hands. “And here I was trying to be discreet.”

“Oh,” Chase breathes, his eyes going wide in realization. He looks at Darius again as if seeing him for the first time. “Well, whatever works for him.”

I’m shocked at how easily he accepts it, but in a good way. Not a lot of people Chase’s age approve of Darius’ lifestyle, and that just adds yet another reason as to why Chase is my favorite.

Because Darius is always talking about how he gets shit for being gay all the time, I often feel the need to remind him that not everyone looks down on him for it.

I do think that part of the problem is that he doesn’t look gay, or rather, he doesn’t flaunt it.

It’s hard for people to tell, so women are always falling for his good looks and charm.

Men start to see him as the competition when, in reality, they are the ones he’s trying to get attention from.

At least he’s getting attention, though. I wish I could say the same for myself.

“Hear that, Darius?” I call out to my best friend. “Chase approves.”

Darius looks away from his phone screen and up at us. “Approves of what?”

I smirk but shake my head. “Oh, never mind.”

Deciding that our conversation is more interesting than whatever he was doing on his phone, he pockets the device and joins us at the counter.

“So, who can we set you up with then?”

My brows pinch together as my gaze shoots back toward Chase, his question catching me off guard. “No one. I don’t want a boyfriend,” I say instinctively.

“Bullshit,” Chase barks back at the same time that Darius snorts.

They both know I’m lying. I know it, and they know that I know it. There’s no way I’m getting out of this awkward and ridiculous conversation now.

“Okay, fine. Maybe I do want a boyfriend, but wanting one doesn’t fix the problem.”

They continue to stare at me, their eyes practically burning holes into my face, as if waiting for me to tell them what this ‘so-called’ problem is. With a sigh, I gesture toward my body, or more specifically, my size.

I’ve never been a small girl, but I gained even more weight in college and haven’t been able to lose it.

No matter what I do, nothing helps, and that’s been very frustrating.

It’s a self-esteem killer for sure, but it also kills my chances at the whole boyfriend thing.

It’s also not something I like to talk about.

When I don’t respond right away, Chase’s brows crease in confusion. “I don’t get it. You’re single, and you’ve got the looks, Maria, especially those striking blue eyes of yours. Where’s the problem?”

Darius, who knows about my image issues, speaks before I get the chance to do so myself. “She thinks she’s too fat for a boyfriend.”

I visibly wince, and my cheeks flame from embarrassment as I try to focus my attention anywhere else. I don’t want or need to see the pity that’s undoubtedly in their eyes. I see it enough every time I look in the mirror.