Tattooed Heart

Part II

The pavement was wet from the rain as you stepped onto the curb. You cursed yourself for wearing your best shoes, knowing you'd have blisters by the time you got home. Looking up at the sky, you noticed the rain had let up, so you quickly shut your umbrella, eyeing the cafe in front of you. The HELP WANTED sign in the window caught your attention. With a sigh, you pulled open the door. If you couldn't find a job today, at least you could dry off with a latte and a muffin.

"What can I get you?" asked the woman behind the counter.

"Yes, I saw your sign up front? What's the job?"

The older man who had his back to you called out, "You got experience?"

"Uh, yes sir, if you mean waiting tables."

The man turned around, his face expressionless. "What about cash register?"

"Yes, sir, I've done that too. All kinds of retail and customer service."

"Any days you aren't available? I need weekends."

"Yes, sir. I mean...no sir, I'm free everyday."

"Good. Fill this out." The man reached behind the counter and pulled out an application, then grabbed a pen from a nearby jar, handing them both to you.

"Thank you," you grinned. "Oh. And can I get a vanilla latte and a blueberry muffin?"

After paying for your order, you sat down at the nearest table to begin filling out the application. You were nearly halfway through it when a shadow fell over your paper and you heard a familiar voice.

"I don't believe it."

Looking up, you saw him standing next to the counter. He wore a black hoodie and shorts, his windblown hair pushed back by sunglasses.

"Oh for fuck's sake," you muttered, gripping the pen tightly. If it had been a pencil, it would have snapped. "What are you doing here?"

"Um...it's a cafe. I'm getting coffee."

Pursing your lips, you shifted your chair so you were facing away from him. You heard him order a flat white before his sneakered feet squeaked past you to a table by the window. You grimaced as you watched him open his backpack and pull out a laptop.

"Here you are ma'am," said the woman who had been behind the counter.

"Thank you," you smiled up at her as she set your coffee and muffin on the table. Then she walked over to Harry, serving him his order.

"I can't believe this," you mumbled to yourself, knowing he had no plans to leave any time soon.

Trying your best to concentrate, you managed to get to the last page of the application before raising your head to find Harry staring at you.

"Do you mind?" you asked, narrowing your eyes.

"Looking for a job?"

You couldn't tell if he was being facetious or genuine.

"What do you care?" you grumbled.

"I..." he began before changing his mind with a shrug. Then he took a sip of his coffee and returned his attention to his computer.

Signing your name at the bottom of the application, you rose from your chair to turn it in.

"Why'd you leave your last job?" asked the man after he scanned your paper.

Your stomach went sour, your throat closing up. You'd dreaded that question all day. Seemed no one wanted to give a smart-mouth cocktail waitress a second chance.