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Surely steam must be coming out of my ears by now, I’m so furious.
Why am I listening to this? I don’t have to anymore.
“Men like Rock are intimidating,” I inch closer as I lay a hand on the counter, my counter, the counter of the business that I built, that I worked my fingers to the bone eighteen hours a day alone. “Do you want to know why he’s intimidating?” Steve opens his mouth to answer. I don’t give him an opportunity. “It’s because they’re honest. They’re genuine. They’re not full of shit like you.” The look of shock and horror on Steve’s face is priceless, if I weren’t so damn angry, I’d laugh. “And this,” I mimic the wave he’d done with his hand, “is MY business. MINE. I built it, and I’m damn proud of it. I would appreciate it if you attempted to understand the concept of work, which might be virtually impossible for a man like you. I know that’s extremely difficult for your type, as you so eloquently put it, but I do suspect you are somewhat intelligent, therefore, I will give you the benefit of the doubt.” I glare at him, his mouth hanging open like a gaping fish. “Once. I will give you only one opportunity to understand that.” I gather myself to my full five foot three height. “If you ever insult me or my business again, I’ll kick you out so fast, your head will spin. As for Rock, and all of MY customers, they are so much better than you and your type. I am completely sure you will never understand that. Do you know why?” I narrow my eyes at him.
“Summer,” he tries to answer me.
“No, you don’t know why,” I stop him. “You can’t begin to know why because you’re so self-centered, so selfish, so full of yourself, you could never grasp the concept of kindness and selflessness, of being a ‘good neighbor’.”
“You’re angry,” he finally cuts off my tirade.
“No, Steve, I’m beyond angry. I’m furious. How dare you come in here presuming to know me, to know anything about me, about my customers. You’ve not only insulted me, but everyone in here.” My eyes widen when I think about everything he’s said. It doesn’t shock me. People like him are exactly the type of people I grew up with, the society that I ran away from. People just like him. “What really and truly amazes me is that you believe all of that.” He snorts. Fucking snorts in contempt.
“I’ve angered you,” he repeats, not acknowledging a thing I’ve said.
I shake my head at him in amazement.
“Just forget it. But if you ever come in here talking like that again, I WILL ask you to leave and not return. I assume you understand that, correct?” I glare at him.
He has no clue, absolutely no clue whatsoever!
“Summer, don’t be difficult. I understand you’re angry, but there is no need to behave that way. It doesn’t suit a woman like you.”
I raise my hand, palm facing him. “Stop! Just stop.”
His mouth flattens to a thin line. “Fine.”
“What can I get you?” I ask tightly, acting as if nothing has just happened.
It wouldn’t do any good. Nothing penetrates that conceited thick head of his, not unless it’s something he wants to hear.
“You know what I like, Summer, why do you ask me that every day?” he asks in a tone of voice he’d use if he were speaking to a child.
“Ughhhhhh!” I groan and turn away from him to make his stupid skinny double shot hazelnut latte.
Pussy!
I giggle to myself with the name.
When I finish, I want to slam it down on the counter, but I don’t. I merely place it politely. Like I’m supposed to.
You’re better than he is. Everyone in this room is better than he is. I glance at the book club table with her highness herself reigning over them, Queen Wifezilla. Well, maybe not everyone.
“Four fifty-nine, please.”
Steve takes out his expensive wallet and removes his black Centurion American Express card. I cringe at it. It stands for everything I hate. I take it quickly and swipe it. Although I told Steve the first couple of times he came in that I don’t take American Express, he acted as if he didn’t hear me, like I didn’t say anything at all. I finally just gave up and took his stupid card. He isn’t worth the aggravation. The machine spits out his receipt and I pass it to him along with a pen, he apparently couldn’t find that either on his own. He signs it and hands it back.
Still no tip. After all that. He’s never given me one. What a total ass!
“Thank you, have a nice day,” I say robotically.
He doesn’t move.
There’s no one behind him, at this point I can’t force him to leave.
Finally, after waiting for him to say something, dreading he’ll say something else horrible, I ask, “What?”
“I’ll pick you up when you’re all finished here,” he says coolly.
