Hell's Angel (BK 1)

End

Alison's POV
(bellamysgirl)

I slammed my finger into the cash register's buttons, trying to make sure it understands that I'm pressing them. This time it worked and the cash drawer slid open. I sighed heavily. "Sorry about that," I apologized, pulling out change. "Here's your change—one, two, and three—please enjoy the rest of your day." I gave the customer her change; she smiled, took her to-go bag, and then promptly hurried to the exit.

Another customer that had to wait while I argued with my stupid cash register served and gone. This thing was supposedly new. Maybe I just wasn't using it right? I twisted to see Mary at another section of counter behind me. "How's it going back there, Mary?" I asked.

She visibly inhaled, finishing another order. "Fine, considering. But you look stressed."

"Yeah," I chuckled humorlessly. "That's just the stress."

She smiled and shook her head, then started getting another order ready. Today was one of the busiest days we've ever had at the café. It had slowly been picking up more and more every day since the opening. It was a good thing, but at times it was completely hectic and chaotic. Like today. No one was waiting to be served at the moment so I moved to the back to help Mary.

Wrapping sandwiches, pouring drinks, tossing salads, attending to random items on the hot plate. These things and many more. Usually I man the espresso/coffee machine so I filled up some mugs and took an order of frappuccinos out to one of the tables. All women, probably a girls' day. "Alright, ladies. Here you are," I started handing out mugs and they got passed around the tables. "Can I get you anything else?"

One of them, a blonde, smiled. "Thank you, I think we're good."

"Alright, enjoy the drinks."

I folded the tray to rest under my arm and turned to head back to the counter. Just as I did, I noticed someone walking up to order. I inhaled. This is what you wanted, Alison. Own it. I hurried up behind the counter and slid the tray away before moving over to the cash register. "Hi there, welcome to Angel's. What can I get for you today?" I asked, plastering on a polite smile.

The man on the other side of the counter was tall, broad-shouldered and fit, with the standard military crew cut. But he had soft eyes and a dark button up shirt. He smiled politely back. "Hi, uh...I'll take four turkey sandwiches and four lemonades to-go," he answered.

I wrote it down as he spoke. "Okay. And what's the name for the order?"

"Frank."

I nodded and wrote it in the note before ripping it off the pad. Just then, a crackling sound echoed through the building a second before a familiar song started playing. Stand By Me by Ben E. King. I instinctively looked left over the counter at Chase. He was jumping in joy with fists in the air. When we'd gone to the junkyard a while back, he found an old jukebox. I knew it was a stupid idea.

But, like usual, I let him keep the jukebox to try and fix it up for the café. Looks like he finally got it working. The music was instantly filling the café and the customers seemed to enjoy it. "Ah, a jukebox. Did he load it with oldies or did it come like that?" Frank asked, with an amused smile.

"It came like that," I chuckled a little, then twisted to see Mary. She just finished attending to the hot plate. "Hey, got another one." I held it out toward her. She nodded once and took the note, looking serious, as if she were preparing for war. I turned back to the man at the counter. "Your total is twenty-three even," I said, typing it into the cash register. Maybe it'll actually work this time?

Just as I'd thought that, the green numbers on its black screen read error and I sighed heavily. The man handed me twenty-five and I took it, and then started using my key to manually open the tray. And suddenly the key doesn't want to turn in the lock. "Sorry, my machine's been going crazy all week," I apologized, with an airy chuckle, trying to force the key to move.