Wolf's Claim

Chapter Six: Scented

"Welcome to McDonald's. How may I help you?" a flat tone of voice greeted me, as I bit down on my bottom lip while studying the menu.

It was almost seven in the morning and I had woke up with a taste for a breakfast from McDonald's. I had decided earlier on a sausage biscuit, hash brown, two steak burritos, and a platter of hotcakes. All topped off with a large coffee with seven creams, twenty-five sugars and two shots of expresso. Yet, looking at the menu I was trying to decide what else to add.

"Just a moment, please," I said.

Three minutes later, I finally decided to stick to what I had decided on with the addition of a large cup of orange juice. "I'd like to order a sausage biscuit, hash brown..." I began rattling off my order. Once I was done, I waited to see if anything was even being sent to the screen and it wasn't. I huffed slightly.

"Anyone alive in there?" I asked. Five more minutes passed and no one said anything, so I spoke again. "Hello??"

I was finally greeted with the sound of loud smacking. "Go ahead."

I arched an eyebrow at that slightly irritated. "I already placed my order," I shot back. "I've been waiting to see it appear on the screen. If you needed time that's all you had to say. It's rude ass hell to just leave your customer sitting and waiting."

"Are you going to order or not?" the voice shot back.

Rolling my eyes, I drove forward and pulled up to the window. As it opened, a petite caramel skinned, blonde looked out rolling her eyes and chewing on something.

"Did you take my order?" I asked, feistiness rising to surface.

"I didn't take anyone's order," she responded. "You didn't place the order."

"That's because you're being rude. I'd like to speak to your manager," I told her.

I wasn't a complicated person. I wasn't even going to get her in trouble. I just wanted my order taken by someone with manners. Cause this one would have me going through the window and snatching her by her obvious tracks. I was hungry and irritated. Never a good combination with me.

She rolled her eyes. "Whatever," she said, before calling out for a manager.

A man who looked to be anywhere from his early to mid-twenties came to the window. His green eyes were astonishing and for a moment, I looked into them. He was cute, admittedly.

"Hello. Is there a problem?" he asked.

"Yes, I'd like for someone else to take my order. Someone with manners preferably. Your cashier is extremely rude and jerkish."

He looked at me for a moment and then to the worker behind him and shook his head. "I'm sorry to hear that," he responded. "I'd be happy to take your order. Please give me just a moment to deal with my employee."

I nodded my head. He closed the window and turned. I couldn't hear what was said, but it was obvious that he was reprimanding her. She turned shrugging her shoulders, stiffly, and walked off. He opened the window again and offered me an apologetic smile.

"Angie is having a difficult week. Her brother was murdered. It's not an excuse for her behavior, but I don't want you to think that she is always like this. She's not."

Hearing her loss, I felt bad for her. All my irritation at her went away. I didn't know what I would do if my sister was taken away from me. She should probably take some time off from work and grieve in peace.

"It's alright, I understand," I told him.

"What can I get for you?" he asked.

I repeated my order back to him and he smiled slightly, as he told me the total. "Thank you for understanding," he responded, before giving me the change and receipt.