Only Yours

0.2

Tamina

"I've been meaning to ask, what sort of office work do you do?" I pipe up, the notion of learning something new about him awakening another level of joy. "Are you like an admin?"

There's a chuckle as we approach the vehicle. At first, he doesn't answer right away as we climb inside, the heater instantly coming to life with the engine.

"What would you say I look like, if you had to guess?" he throws back, more curious now that he's changed the stakes of the question.

Drumming my fingers against my thigh once I'm clipped in, I scrutinise him. He has impeccable taste in cars, he has great time management and takes care of his appearance. Then again, if anyone saved up and kept on top of their appearances, they could easily have the same things.

But with the way he carries himself. . .

"Manager, or assistant manager at least if I had to put down an answer," I begin, and his head slightly dips for me to carry on as he focuses on leaving the car park. "It explains your view on tardiness."

He chuckles. "You are quite an observer, well done."

To say the compliment is nice is an understatement. It fills me with warmth that he sees me for the observer I am and not just some silly daydreamer like Jackson had. It feels good to hear that.

"How about you?"

I swivel to face him the best I can. "What about me?"

Brandon waves his hand out in front of him in an open gesture. "What are you at the café? Are you planning to aspire to another role?"

The question takes me by surprise because no one has ever asked me that. But the answer is simple when it comes to my mind.

"I'm a simple barista, sometimes I play the role of a keyholder if a team leader isn't in at the time," I say, getting the—what people would call—typical role out of the way, "But no, I don't think I'm ready to climb the ladder, or at least, right now I know I'm not ready. I'm more than happy where I am because that's where the customers are, and that's the part of the job I look forward to."

Personally, I don't think I would suit working in an office. Tons of paperwork, away from the customers, and less time to make the drinks. I'd rather be out there listening to their days than the droning silence of the four walls.

I watch as he flicks the indicator to make the turn we used to come in. "That sounds like a suitable plan." Returning the indicator to neutral, he adds, "Not everyone knows what they want in life, and taking it one hurdle at a time is always best so you can avoid mistakes."

"Exactly!" I exasperate. "You get it, and it makes sense, especially with where you are now. You must like your job."

Brandon laughs; it's that short professional one he used from Brooks & Books, but I'm happy it made him laugh. "It's not a bad job. I have been there for two years, you?"

"That's really good, you should be proud of that, and I've been at the Heated Bean for nearly three years now," I say, pleased with myself since it has been my first proper job outside of volunteering.

"It sounds like you are doing well for yourself, Tamina. That's a feat on its own," he praises, and hearing a second praise makes my head spin.

I shouldn't let them make me feel so. . . I guess intelligent and put together.

"Thank you, Brandon," I whisper, leaning back in the comfort of the seat.

"What plans do you have tomorrow?" he queries, putting his foot down a little more now that we're on the open road.