Chapter Four
Monday
I forced a smile, though Liam was, unfortunately, more emotionally astute than that. “I’ll be okay.”
“Just say the word,” he pressed. “Derek will understand.”
Liam’s husband was about ten years older than us and thus had some actual emotional maturity, but I shook my head. “I’ve got the panic button. I’ll be fine, I promise. Thank you, though.”
Realistically, I was not fine and was, in fact, terrified. But Alex had said she’d take care of it…whatever that meant. Somehow, though, I felt like she was entirely capable.
Evenings were slow. I admired the people who came in for 7 PM coffee—the night shifters, the ADHD folks, and so on.
Rarely unpleasant, and their orders were generally simple: black coffees and plain lattes all around.
Occasionally, flocks of teenagers would come in to order a round of frappes, but not on a Monday.
Monday nights brought in quiet people, which was why I generally didn’t mind working alone.
After 8, the shop emptied. Thunder outside meant the forecasted monsoon was imminent. When my phone buzzed, my panic rose, but it was just an emergency broadcast, warning of flash floods.
Great.
Minutes later, it buzzed again. Unknown number.
U free tonight?
Cliff was too stupid to change the way he texted to hide his identity. Working. Opening tomorrow. Sorry.
One of many numbers I hadn’t saved, some fuckboy from a party. As much as the lull of partying might actually do me some good, lately I just wanted to sleep.
My phone buzzed. Just a quickie. We don’t even have to bang. Just suck me off.
With it came a dick pic.
At least the store didn’t actually have cameras facing the counter. I studied the phallic image, trying to determine its owner. Probably Chase. He wasn’t too awful. Only if you can pick me up.
Whoring myself out for a ride home wasn’t the worst deal.
Won’t have my roommate’s car til around 10. I’ll keep you posted.
Well, the joke was on me for hoping.
At 8:15, rain pattered against the roof. Summer storms were common, but biking home in the rain was cold and miserable. Damn Chase for not owning a damn car. Why did only losers seem to give a shit about me?
At 8:30, I started the closing process, mopping the floors to the sound of my own humming to the radio until the gentle chime of the front door caused me to freeze.
But it was Alex.
The resident heiress looked annoyingly handsome in her AC/DC t-shirt, sleeves rolled up to show off her impressive biceps and tattoos, her black jeans torn but perfectly tailored to highlight her thighs and bubble butt. Damn her fuckboy smile; damn how flustered it made me.
“Hey, Princess,” Alex said.
There she was, hot as hell, while I, as always, wore my stupid uniform.
…When had I started admitting she was hot as hell?
Well, she wouldn’t have the upper hand. I grinned for show and asked, “Do you even listen to AC/DC?”
“Should I hum the main riff of Thunderstruck to prove it?”
Damn her for being so amiable. My laugh came so naturally; the first since yesterday. I set the mop aside. “Triple shot black coffee?”
“Not this late. Surprise me. I want to see what you make best.”
“Oh, you’ll be disappointed by my lack of creativity, but I’ll try.” I washed my hands in the sink behind the counter. “There’s a reason I’m usually at the register.”
“I take it being a barista isn’t the dream job?”
“It’s the ‘keeps me off the streets’ job. Are there any flavors you hate?”
Alex shook her head. I started up a fresh shot of espresso. Maybe a chicory latte. Not too sweet; not too strong for the late hour.
“I realized,” Alex said, “that I’d told you yesterday to call me but never left you my number.” She placed a business card on the counter and slid it over. “He hasn’t tried anything, right?”
I took the card, immediately noting the matte texture. “He—” I needed to say something, but that picture…. Alex couldn’t see it. Alex couldn’t know. “He texted me. Just said I’d humiliated him, that’s all.”
Alex nodded, cold contemplation plain on her handsome features. “And you didn’t reply, right?”
“No.”
“Good. Makes it easier for the lawyers, assuming it comes to that.” Alex frowned slightly. “Are you all alone here?”
“Just me and the beans.”
“Are you afraid of creeps?”
“You mean like creeps who ask if I’m here all alone?”
At Alex’s scoffing laugh, I managed to smile. “All right,” she replied. “That’s on me.”
“There’s a panic button under the counter if anything goes wrong. Barbs keeps trying to convince the owner to install actual cameras instead of just a fake”—I pointed to the camera on the back ceiling, facing the door—“but he thinks it’s a waste.”
Alex nodded, though she didn’t seem convinced. “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but who was that guy to you? Cliff. Is he your boyfriend or something?” She paused. “Hopefully ex.”
With a pour of the milk foam, the latte was complete, and I set it proudly on the counter.
“No, just a bad decision. I have a lot of those.” Yikes, I’d just admitted a lot with so few words.
“I don’t have a boyfriend,” I added, but then came a Hail Mary pass that shocked even me as the words tumbled out of my mouth. “Or a girlfriend.”
Judging by Alex’s slight eyebrow raise, the message had been received. Whatever…it had been. Tension radiated in the ensuing silence, but I was both on the clock and….
I couldn’t. Not now. Not ever. Certainly not here on the counter—
Well, fuck.
Alex sipped at the to-go cup, immediately perking up. “I never drink coffee this late, but you’ve successfully charmed my taste buds. Congrats.”
“Glad to know my personal coffee skills are up to your standards.”
“I think I’ve more than proved I don’t have standards.”
I chuckled but shook my head when she pulled out her wallet.
“It’s on me,” I said. “For yesterday. I really appreciate what you did.” When Alex’s expression softened, I couldn’t bear to see it.
“Besides, making you a real latte was risky. Your taste in coffee is considered highly questionable among the staff.”
What a lovely sound, Alex’s laugh. Dusty and awkward, perhaps not often used. “I’m wounded, truly. I suppose you’ll have to pick for me every time.”
The clock said 8:40. Rain was falling outside, so I moved to clean the espresso machine.
No one else was coming in. “If you don’t mind me asking,” I pressed, a mystery that had been plaguing me for years, “why do you come here? This seems a little plain for an heiress. And isn’t your mom a senator or something? ”
Alex scoffed. “My name does come with some weight, but I’ve pretty much abandoned it. I work at the gym down the street.”
“You work at a gym?” I asked and narrowly bit back the follow-up of I thought you were rich.
“I co-own it, sorta. It’s more of a hobby than a job.
Keeps me sober.” Alex shrugged as she sipped the latte, but the feigned nonchalance was painfully obvious.
“My actual ‘job’ is managing real estate investments, but there comes a point where you essentially just pay other people to manage it while you reel in a paycheck. Not much for me to do. So, I’m both trainee and trainer at the gym. ”
Oh, she was hella rich, then. Yet I still knew so little about her, aside from her poor taste in coffee and that her tattoos hid a hideous scar. “That sounds fun.”
“It’s humbling,” Alex said, though she kept her gaze to the drink. “What about you? Who is Terra when she isn’t my favorite smartass barista?”
I scowled at the backhanded compliment. “Terra Stern is a broke college dropout trying to find her place in the world. She lives with her mom in a two-bedroom apartment while working full-time to pay off her unfortunately considerable debts and apparently has issues with stalkers.”
I grabbed a damp rag and quickly wiped down the counter, hopefully for the final time, then moved to the nearest table, all while Alex watched and sipped her drink. “I know it’s not the dream, but are you happy working here?” Alex asked.
“I am. Barbs—Barbara is a good manager, and I actually have a real friend. Liam’s great, plus he’s married, so it’s never weird.”
“I was curious if he was your boyfriend. That explains it.”
I failed to hide my smirk, amusement rising.
“Since you keep bringing up my romantic status, I’ll say it less cutely: despite my ill-advised hook-ups, I’m chronically single.
Or perhaps Schrodinger’s single, because my romantic life is dead in a box—or is it?
” Dammit, that hit a bit too close to home.
I shook my head as I continued wiping tables, discarding straws and other bits of trash along the way.
“Anyway, I’d be too exciting for Liam even if he were single. ”
“Pray tell, what does ‘exciting’ mean?”
“Well, he has a husband and one more year left in his degree, after which they’re going to adopt babies and travel the world—his words, not mine. Whereas I dropped out of college but still attend college parties because I have nothing better to do.”
It sounded pathetic when I said it aloud.
But Alex chuckled from her place at the counter. “Been there. I get it.”
I was sure saying an awful lot…. It felt so natural. Alex even reciprocated, so I hadn’t stepped too far. Hopefully.
As I returned to the counter to grab a broom next, I caught a glimpse of her phone background, revealing a thinner Alex posing beside a small child. “Who’s that?” I said. “Secret love child?”
Before the impact of how risky that jab had been could truly strike—what if she actually did have a secret kid?
—Alex smiled faintly as she shook her head.
“Niece.” She swiped the phone screen back on, showing off the photo once more.
“My sister’s a piece of shit, but she did make a very cute human. ”
The kid could’ve been Alex’s, with her dark hair and matching eyes. But I was more keen to notice Alex’s bare arms—devoid of tattoos, scars, and any notable muscles. Still hot, but I could buy this younger Alex as a socialite instead of a gym rat. “She’s adorable. How old is she?”