Telltale Tango | Complete

Fourteen - Giselle

Priya convinces me that the best way to wallow when one has to work is to pick up a very fancy smoothie on the way in and hide it behind the counter every time the manager, Brittany, looks our way.

It's an oddly specific ritual, but it would probably work for someone who wasn't sipping on a smoothie that reminded her of an amazing date night in the park with a man who— "No," I say aloud.

"What was that?" Priya calls from the back.

"Nothing. Sorry."

"Still no customers?" She comes out with a broom in her hand, adjusting her ponytail and then putting her hands on her hips, jutting one of them out to the side. "I wonder what could be keeping them from our delicious paninis."

"Delicious?" We both know they are not delicious. But still, she's right. We're usually packed full of customers by now and today, there's nothing.

"Okay, fine. But you know what I mean. I haven't even seen Brittany all afternoon. Where did she disappear to, you know?"

"Probably calling her boyfriend. Brad or Ken or whatever his name is."

"Probably. Why didn't they make me the manager instead of her?"

"I believe the phrase 'setting the garbage compactor on fire' were bandied about."

"That was one time!"

"I know! And it was totally their faulty wiring. Not at all your fault."

"Thank you, I—" she stops mid sentence. "Oh, they did not! Who got the bright idea to set up a food truck right outside our cafe?"

A food truck? The sleek wooden walls of the cafe spin around me, colourful blocks of paint pretending to be art slide out of focus into a blur of colour. The counter impacts my hand and I manage to grip it, closing my eyes until my vision steadies. Finally, the ringing in my ears lessens and I risk opening my eyes. The coffee machine's steady drip guides my breathing until I'm able to hear what Priya's saying.

". . . and I just can't believe they would think it was appropriate. I mean, they aren't even accepting customers, they're just sending them away. Who does that, you know? And where is Brittany? They don't pay me enough to deal with this stuff."

"I know," I whisper through my sandpaper throat. "I know who it is."

"Huh?" Priya spins around. "What did you say?"

I must look as faint as I feel because she closes the space between us in less than a second, guiding me to a nearby chair and bringing me my hidden smoothie from behind the counter which I'd all but abandoned. "Here. Drink something, it'll make you feel better."

"I don't think it will."

"Is this about Feliciano again?" She rubs my back encouragingly while her eyes bite into me, seeking the answers I won't give her. "I know you two broke up or whatever but what on earth has you this twisted up in knots? He was working with the catfish guy? So what?"

"So what?" I can't drink another sip of this smoothie. "So what? So he was working together with that creepy guy the whole time and never told me, that's what."

"Was he, though?" She backs away slightly, probably to avoid my arm should I choose to respond to that suggestion as any rational person would.

"You really gotta quit doing these one-eighties, Priya," I sigh, dropping my face into my hands. "One second you want me to be mad at him and the next second he's not so bad. What do you want from me?"

"I just want you to be happy. When you came home that night you seemed like you just needed to be mad at him, you know? To let him vent. But now..."

"Now, what?" I force out through clenched teeth.