Everyone behind the counter seemed to think it their personal mission to make me serve Tom every day. He'd come in at precisely nine in the morning, rain or shine, and order the same thing: a medium Earl Grey with milk and a croissant, then give me a moral-melting smile and wish me a pleasant morning before going wherever he did. Whether he was showing me positive attention or was just genuinely kind to everyone, his mannerisms and alluring eyes always made me blush, which my coworkers found incredibly amusing. Even my manager had gotten behind forcing me to serve Tom, mostly at the behest of Conner, who seemed to believe that fate had written Tom and my union into the stars. Because of this, my manager always penciled me in for the morning shift now, making avoiding Tom practically impossible.
"He obviously likes you, Y/N." Conner insisted, piling on the extra whipped cream to a peppermint hot chocolate. "No one is this consistent without reason."
"I am." I answered shrewdly.
"Okay, so another reason why you guys are perfect for each other."
"I don't even know him!" It was true. I had only learned Tom's name because I had to write it on his cup every morning. "And besides, I told you I'm not going there after Jason."
"Y/N, it's been two years." Conner slid the drink over the counter with a smile and a 'have a nice day!' before turning back to me. "You have to get back in the saddle at some point."
"Says who?"
"Says everyone." Conner glanced at the door and his eyes lit up. "Speaking of. . ."
Oh, God. I could here the precise clip of his oxfords against the floor even with my back turned. "Come on, Conner!" I pleaded in a harsh whisper. "I served Opal when she came in here after you guys broke up!"
"And a very tasteful floral arrangement is on its way to thank you for that." Conner gave me a wicked smile and slid into the back, leaving me to serve the familiar customer that had just stepped up to the counter behind me.
I took a deep breath, pasted a smile on my face and turned around. Tom looked as perfect as ever in a hunter green turtle neck, a dark grey suit jacket and a green overcoat. It was sprinkling outside, judging by the few stray water droplets sitting in his honey-tinged brown curls, and his eyes captured mine instantly, a tiny nod following to replace a verbal greeting.
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"The usual?" I heard myself ask, though it was the shifting blue-green of his irises that really held my attention.
"So nice to be known, love." His voice was still scratchy with sleep, and I fought of the mental image of what he must look like when he woke up and turned over in bed in the morning. I nodded weakly and poured hot water into the cup - Conner had pre-written a stack of cups with his name on them and cheekily stuck them under the counter - and put in the tea bag and milk before setting it gingerly in front of Tom and stepping over to the confections.
