Coffee Shop

• 06 •

Ever seen those stories or memes on the internet about working with your boss and how horrible it could be? That didn't happen with Brian. He was the best boss ever, hands down. Yes, I know I'd never really worked for someone before, but my father was a head supervisor at his storage house, and I knew for a fact he was a dick-boss.

Brian? He was a cool boss, a great boss. He made working easy, fun and helped me every step of the way. By the time my Saturday shift came, and I walked through the doors of the coffee shop, I was more than excited to clock in. Being in that coffee shop was like being in my comfort zone. Warmth, coffee, and great conversation. What more could I ask for?

So, like I said—horrible boss stories? The internet was a no-no.

The warmness coming off the freshly baked cupcakes filled me as I stepped around the counter to start my night shift. Shawn was working the register, and though he smiled and waved at me, I could see him glancing up at the red clock that hung on the wall. To say he had Saturday plans went without saying. He was riddled with let-me-clock-out-now anxiousness.

"Is Brian in the back?" I asked, pulling my slip-on hoodie off over my head.

Looking at me, Shawn shook his head. "Not yet," he said. "He's running a little late today. Don't worry, though. I'll hang out until he gets here."

"Hang out?" I smiled, glancing up at the clock as he did. "I don't think you want to."

Shawn laughed and tapped a button on the register, finally closing out the transaction he'd just finished. Right when I'd walked in, the last customer had walked out. It was just me, him, and the quiet sounds of soft rock playing from the speakers. "Doesn't matter what I want, Kay." He shrugged, leaning against the counter. "A job's a job. Can't leave you riding solo here. You're still fresh blood."

"Fresh blood?" Cracking the back door open, I didn't open it all the way to hang my hoodie and purse on a hook beside the door. I simply slid my arm through, placed them neatly where they belonged, and moved under the counter for my apron. "I've been here a week. I think I'm like lukewarm blood."

"Lukewarm?" Shawn cocked a brow at me. "I know you haven't worked a day in your life, but there's a thing called 90-day probation."

"Ahuh." I nodded, sorting through cups. I was only half-listening to him.

"And until Brian says you're good to go, you're not on your own."

"But you—" I pointed at him with a medium-sized cup lid. "—you've only been here, what? A month?"

"About." Shawn waited for me to get to my point.

"And—" With that same lid, I waved it around my head, pointing at various corners of the shop. "—you're here alone, manning the ship."

Shawn pressed his thumb hard into his chest, pointing at himself. "Yeah, but I have job experience—management experience, too! Do you know what it's like to run a store with no staff on a busy Saturday?"

The lid came down to my chest as I held it tight. "Well, no."

"Exactly," Shawn sighed as he slid hands over his head. "So, I can't leave you alone."

I scrunched my nose and pushed my lips up against it as I watched him huff out his breaths, both frustrated and annoyed. I knew exactly what it was. Twice this week I'd seen him clock out of work and meet a girl outside. This Saturday just had to be date night, and no guy would look good arriving on a date however minutes late. Wasn't a good look.

So, I pulled a magical story out of my ass.

"Well..." I walked over to the empty tables and refilled the napkin holders. "One time, my mom's church held this bake sale for everyone. She'd asked me to go in an hour earlier to prepare the sweets and stuff. Only, when I got there, there was this big miscommunication about where our stall was and who would work it."