when we collided [e.s.]

Three

"Do I?" I ask playfully. "My boss will be here in a few minutes. She's pretty easy, but she'll want an interview and background check," he says, sitting down in a stool behind the counter. "Do you think she'll hire me?" I ask, leaning on the glass display case full of danishes and other baked goods. "As long as you don't have a prison record," he says, laughing at his own joke. Just then, a blonde, middle aged woman walks in, carrying her jacket over her arm. "Hey, Emma," the redheaded cutie says as she walks behind the counter. "Who's this?" She says, eating a potato chip out of an open bag near the cash register. The boy looks at me with questioning eyes. "I'm Audrey Carter," I answer with a smile. "Applying for a job?" She asks, crumpling up the bag of chips and throwing it away. I nod. "I hope Ed has been keeping you company," she smiles, sitting down at a booth and signaling for me to sit across from her. "Eddy, can you grab my laptop from the back?" She says politely. He nods and dissapears into another room. "So, Audrey," she says, lacing her hands together in front of her. "Where are you from?" She begins. "Reilly, Washington State," I begin. "I'm guessing you're in college," she assumes with a smile. "Yep. I just started at King's over near the garden," I reply. "Alright. I'm going to hire you, first because I'm already bored with this conversation and second because you seem like a sweet girl," she says with a grin, standing up and grabbing her jacket off of the stool she set in on. "I came back to give Ed the keys to lock up, so I'm heading out. Why don't you take this shift as well? You and him will be great friends," she says, a jingling noise emerging from her coat pocket. She sets the keys down on the glass display case and walks out, putting her coat on as the brisk London air hits her cheeks and nose. "I couldn't find your laptop, are you sure you didn't leave it-" Ed stops when he sees we are alone. "Where's Emma?" He asks curiously. "I'm hired. She told me that you were locking up so she left," I clarify with a smile. "Oh. Great. What are your hours?" He asks, only half listening as he slips the keys into his back pocket. "Actually she gave me your schedule," I admit, studying his face for a positive or negative reaction. He smirks into the cash register as he takes out a wad of currency and sorts it. "Figures. She's too lazy to figure out a schedule," he says. "So, what is your schedule?" I ask. "I work from 5 to 9 from monday to thursday," he says, sorting the money and closing the cash register. "I'll be back tommorow then," I smile, standing up and walking to the door. "See you then."