Crimson

Black Coffee

My mother always said, "Never judge a book by its cover, especially good books." Each member of the group wore their trademark biker vests with their logo Outsiders etched on a patch. I tried not to look up from my notepad as the guys each gave me their orders. They each ordered their usual for the past few days and always asked for more juice and coffee. Mr. Tall and handsome never orders more than a coffee: black, just black. His voice was deep, powerful and soothing. Snap out of it Jane, its just his voice! I nodded my head as if I was paying attention to his order.
Who knew there are people who still drank coffee as strong as I did? 

As I left the group and walked back to stick the order onto the counter, I felt their stares. 

How many more hours before I'm in bed?

  I came back with their orders and  handed each of them their orders. Each of them thanked me and as I set the coffee down in front of Mr. Tall and handsome, I saw their eyes follow my movement . The one closest to him smirked, as if to see if I would spill. 

I carefully placed the coffee and said, "Enjoy!" as I scurried off. The group all chuckled after I walked a few steps away. As the last couple left, my feet were tired and my shoulders were getting weary. How am I going to finish the paper and the orders before Thursday? 

The sun was starting to set and another day is going to pass. Knowing this made me smile. This meant another day in this sleepy town, where I was safe.