A Dance Of Gods ✓

5. First Sight

Taylor

I rub my eyes, clinging to the four hours of sleep I got last night as I force myself to stay awake. Rhea drops a metal bowl in the baking room and I flinch. My head jerks just enough to bang into the lockers. I rub the spot on my forehead, seriously contemplating a cup of coffee until a picture catches my eye. The Diamond Head Volcano peeks out from behind Kaden's shoulder, a reminder of how quickly we went from acquaintances to full out planning our marriage and how many kids we were going to have. Images flash through my mind- mostly of that trip our university's geology department organized.

  I had my concerns about it, of course. I'd never even been out of the state and I was worried about the temptations that supposedly came with a sort-of vacation, but it ended up working out. On the plane ride home he admitted he wasn't a virgin- far from it actually. I just smiled and said god would forgive him for that- and he would have if the fuc... asshole hadn't continued to sin after making promises.

  I catch myself giving into anger and shake my head. He's dead now. This is in god's hands. He'll decide what to do with him. I pick up the picture and hesitate before shoving it in a purse I borrowed from Rhea.

  He may have actively been cheating on me less than two minutes before the fire broke out, but he is getting what he deserves now. I have no control over that, no right to be mad at a dead man.

  He.... F... fuck. Fuck I need to break something.

  I yank the picture back out, paying no attention when it snags on a thread. I jerk it free and slam it against the brick wall- just above our break room trash can. Glass shatters. Most pieces land on top of dirty paper towels and half-eaten test recipe cupcakes, but one larger piece lodges itself just below my collarbone. Fuck. Fuck I hate blood.

  I stare at the ceiling as I pull it out, not looking down until I've zipped my hoodie and tossed the piece. When I turn around Rhea is standing in the open doorway, both eyebrows raised. She still holds an oversized hand whisk, dripping vanilla batter on the floor.

  "Christ- I thought someone was breaking in. You good? Need a day off?"

  I shove the borrowed purse in my locker. It brushes against the jacket he got me for my birthday. I throw it away too.

    "No I need... something to fill my mind before I go see the investigators so I don't have to think about him." I loosely tie my hair up, avoiding the floor length mirror as I squeeze past Rhea. She opens her mouth in protest but I beat her to it. "I'm gonna... go finish the cold brew."

So I do. For seven hours I work the front, brewing fresh coffee- making lattes and espressos and weird custom concoctions. Rhea constantly walks back and forth, forcing me to taste test potential croissants and cupcakes and quiches.

  She leaves about two hours early- she says for her monthly meeting with a financial advisor-  then I am alone for the after-work rush.

  Half an hour to closing, a line of about ten people forms while I grab depleted ingredients from the walk in fridge and transfer them to the oversized one in the front.

  I give myself a five second break before facing our customers, finally removing my hoodie. God, I wish I'd lit a fire under Rhea's ass when I asked her to hire more employees-

  "Christ lady what does it take to get a cup of coffee around here?" A man that has to be at least fifty says. I take a deep breath, putting on my best customer service smile from my time in retail.

  "1.99 USD for a medium black. Is that what you'd like?" Smile. Just.... Keep smiling.

  "Sure, whatever." He rolls his eyes.