Song of the Firebird

Forty Two

'Good morning! You have reached Liz-'

Drew dropped his dishcloth and Zoya, her tongs as soon as they heard Iqbal stop midway while answering his first call of that day inside the café. It was not like him to let his words hang in mid-air in the middle of the orders flying through their mornings.

'Are you sure that you will be alright?'

Ignoring the compliments thrown at him by the elderly lady in the table closer to the counter, Drew walked towards Iqbal's nonchalant question to the receiving end. Rolling her eyes, Zoya picked up the red velvet cake with expertise and drew patterns over the dessert using their signature red velvet hot fudge sauce. As she placed the cake slice over the counter, her ears picked up the next part from Iqbal.

'Right. If you need any assistance, let me know.'

The silver cutlery from Zoya's hand reached the ground with a clunk. Her nostrils flared with fury. She was, however, amazed that she could not hide her jealousy. A part of her was mincing Iqbal in her thoughts. While she was about to grab the phone from his hands, she heard him speak again.

'Yes, I will ask Drew to wait for you before he closes up in his next shift. Take your time, boss. You might need more rest at this time of your health. Convey my regards to Jay, as well.' Iqbal smiled warmly as he disconnected the call. He sighed and added, 'Finally.'

Swatting his hands on the apron, Iqbal leaned to the counter and updated that day's particulars. He jerked back when Drew's fingers drummed on the counter that he was working on. Coolly, he stared at his colleague and said, 'Boss wants to have a word with you while your shift ends.' He smirked at the confused Drew and pushed him aside to tend to the recent customer.

As soon as knowing that it was only Natasha and not someone else of her sex or her age, Zoya's heart resumed its normal working pace. She was glad that Iqbal did not notice her dropping the cutlery. Blushing at the envy that she almost let out for the public to see, Zoya murmured incoherent words and placed a new set of cutleries on the plate and passed it to the young girl standing with her mother.

Drew, who always had the counter attacks for sarcasm, for the first time, found no words to reply. He was deeply engrossed in what he eavesdropped on Iqbal's conversation with Natasha. Alright. Assistance. More rest. Jay. Not getting any part of it, he inched towards Iqbal, to demand answers. He felt someone tug his shirt above his waist and looked down to see a young girl with her red velvet cake. 'Um– Mister– Can you please help mommy clear the table? She is—you know– carrying my brother inside her?'

Drew's signature smile glowed, 'Sure thing, sweetheart. I will not let anything interfere with your happiness in Lizzie's'. The girl giggled and led him to her mother.

Smirking at their exchange, Zoya was waiting for the next order that needed preparing. She eyed the displayed desserts and was making a mental note as to what to prepare next. She noticed Iqbal's hand cross her line of vision, placing a white slip with the next order on her side. Two Frappes with extra whipped cream. Curious at the one who made such an order, she could see a blonde woman, who looked not beyond her mid twenties, smiling coyly at Iqbal. Knowing Iqbal and his charm with dusting advances from all sexes, she remained silent, yet, keeping tab on their banter.

Before she set the blenders to work, she listened to the latest line of their dialogue. 'Will you be the Zayn to my Gigi, erm – Iqbal? That way, we will rock the world and get them to notice our charm.' From the corner of her eyes, she could see the woman swaying her hips and scooting low to show him a generous part of her ample bosom. Zoya's inner tumult was reflected back at her by the ice cubes crushed at between the metal blades.