“Ugh. Fuck my life,” I muttered, as I rounded the counter to start my shift.
Not only did I have to work with Cassidy, Queen of the Bitches, but the guy I’d turned down last night at a campus party was sitting at a table across from the barista’s station.
Cassidy arched a perfectly shaped black brow at me. “Language, cupcake. Who pissed in your cornflakes this morning?”
I ignored her. I didn’t have the energy to worry about her attitude when I was more concerned about whether Trey showing up here was intentional or just an unfortunate coincidence.
“Table ten’s order is up,” Cassidy said, setting a large coffee and breakfast sandwich on the counter.
Table ten was Trey’s. I stifled a sigh when I saw it wasn’t a to-go order. My unease must have been apparent, because she grabbed my wrist.
I shook my head. “Nothing.”
But she didn’t release me, and instead just stared me down.
“Fine. The guy at table ten is a dick.”
“He’s a dude bro. And?”
I sighed. “And he got super handsy at a party last night. Wouldn’t take no for an answer until I told him I have a boyfriend. Even then, it took another guy to get him to leave me alone.”
Her expression darkened, and she gently squeezed my wrist. She reached beneath the counter and pulled out one of the trays we hardly ever used. Setting the food on it, she said, “I got this.”
She rounded the counter with a huge smile on her face. As she she got closer to him, her smile widened. “Here’s your breakfast.”
Veering slightly to the right, she caught her foot on another patron’s computer cord, and pitched forward, tray and all. The sandwich landed with a splat on the table, then slipped to the floor, and the coffee left the huge mug, arcing up and over to drench both Trey and his phone. The mug bounced off the table and smashed on the floor.
He yelped, leaping to his feet, and Cassidy gasped. “I am so sorry!”
She quickly untangled herself from the cord and pulled a bunch of napkins from a dispenser and began half-heartedly blotting at him.
“I’ll get you a new order right away!”
“Forget it,” he snarled, and stalked out the door.
Bending, she picked up the broken pieces of mug and tossed them in the trash. Then, she rounded the counter and pulled a washrag from a tub of soapy water and dropped it into my hand. “Clean up in aisle four, cupcake.”
That’s it for me, today. But be sure to check out the other bloggers’ stories by clicking on their names.