Foolish Mortals

Chapter 1

floun·der

floundər

verb

to proceed clumsily or ineffectually

synonyms: struggle, thrash, flail, splash, stagger, stumble, reel, lurch, blunder, squirm, writhe

"So? Is he still coming back?"

I glanced up from my phone and blinked as the heart shaped face of my coworker and best friend poked itself between the screen and my eyes.

"Really, Jess? You're gone for a week and that's your first question?" I smiled widely, turning my phone off and pushing it into the back pocket of my jeans.

"You're boring, you're always doing the same thing. He's exciting." Her arms wrapped around me to soothe the bite of her words.

I grinned as our disparate heights caused my head to land somewhere in the vicinity of her cleavage. "Welcome back!"

"Thanks. Miss me, weirdo?" 

"Can't crush me into admitting it," I chuckled as I squirmed out of her very bosomy embrace and glanced over her. "You have a nice glow about you."

"Oh yeah, I burned the first day, but now I'm the envy of all the pale Seattle maidens." 

"Thanks for texting me the daily Hawaii sunset pictures, lucky bitch." I stared at her in accusation. "Trying to make me jealous?"

"Guilty as charged. And did it work?"

"Oh yes. It is a green eyed monster which doth mock the meat it feeds on." I sighed dramatically.

"God, I missed you." Jess began checking over the espresso machine. "We're getting lunch after work so I can give you all the details. And I can't help but notice you didn't answer my question."

"He's still showing up like clockwork," I replied as I pulled on my small black apron and sorted its pockets. Notebook, check. Pen, check. Extra straws, stickers for kids, check check. "I have a feeling he is a man to whom routine is essential. Paramount, even. Without it, he would flounder."

Jess's cheeks dimpled up in that adorable way of hers. "Which one of those is your word of the day?"

"Flounder," I said, flicking a crumb off the counter. "It should be easy to work into a conversation with Mr. Hotty McGrumpy. You'll owe me another one of your mom's chocolate muffins."

"For god's sake. I never should have made that bet. You're going to gain eighty pounds and get diabetes in the next year if this keeps up."

"It will be worth it. Anyway, you have only yourself to blame."

"To be fair, it seemed almost impossible at the time to work 'winkle' into a conversation naturally," Jess complained.

"I'm very innovative." I winked and leaned my hip against the counter. Then a small alarm beeped, signalling time to open up It's Bean Great.

I made my way out from behind the counter and glanced over the customer area. Empty now, and all the surfaces polished bright, it was a pretty room. Most of our regular clients chose to sit at the little rows of tables by the large windows, watching the world go by while they sipped their coffee. Jess and I had worked together for five years, and we had the routine down.

"Here we go," Jess said, flashing a perky smile at me as the door swung open.

After the first rush of customers began to slow, I took a moment to glance at the clock. Almost nine. Mr. McGrumpy would be here soon, he always walked in the door on the hour exactly.