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That’s how come I ended up face-to-face with Jodie over the Velvet Bean counter, and that’s how come I ended up sharing the same fucking airspace as Mandy pissing Taylor and her gaggle of cock-starved cronies.
Tonya shot me a pained look as I walked in through the door, but I was already committed. I stared Mandy out on my way past, made it as clear that her gossipy shit wasn’t welcome. She paid no pissing attention.
Whispers and giggles and a wave from Debbie Gibson. She’d been trying to book in for a week now, tried every bloody trick in the book, including a slow puncture that wasn’t a bloody puncture at all.
Jodie felt awkward, I could see it in the blush on her neck. She was polite, too polite. Flashing me a quick smile before taking my order.
“Just a coffee,” I said.
“Americano?”
“Whatever.”
She met my eyes for just a second. “Not working?”
“Popped out.”
“I see,” she said. But she didn’t, she didn’t see at all.
Mandy’s laugh roared through the place, some comment about going all night long. I shot the bitch a glare.
When I turned back to Jodie she was cringing, I could see it written all over her.
“Shall I tell her where to go?” I asked. “I don’t mind telling her.”
She shook her head. “Leave it,” she said. “It’s a cafe, she can laugh about whatever she likes as long as she’s paying.”
“She’s not paying me,” I said.
“That’s not what she thinks,” she replied. “Nor the others, since apparently they’re in the queue.”
I sighed, lowered my voice. “There is no fucking queue, Jo. They’re full of shit.”
“Whatever, Darren,” she said. “It’s really none of my business if they’re in your bang gang club or not.”
Her tone felt like a slap. “Fair enough.”
She placed a take-out mug on the counter, one of those crappy polystyrene things. “Three pound twenty, please.”
I guess I was having coffee to go.
I handed over the cash and she gave me a smile. Just another fucking customer, like she hadn’t come on my face the night before last.
I guess it meant nothing to her, just a prelude to the main fucking event.
She busied herself with the coffee machine and I didn’t budge. She looked nervous as she registered I was still waiting.
“What?” she said. “Did you want something else?”
“Sugar would be a start,” I said.
She blushed. “Sorry. Shit. I didn’t think you took sugar.”
“Only for the past fifteen years.”
She looked flummoxed as the coven at Mandy’s table started laughing again. “Guess I must have forgotten, sorry. My bad.” She handed over some sugar sachets and I emptied them into the cup. “I serve a lot of people a lot of coffees, Darren.”
“I’m hardly a lot of people,” I said. “You should know how I like my bloody coffee, Jodie, you made enough of them over the years.”
She smiled. “I guess I did.”
“I guess you did.” I took my cup. “And I guess I’m taking this out.”
Her face dropped. “Did you want to drink in? I didn’t think…”
“No bother,” I said, and stepped away.
She sighed. “Sorry, Darren… I should know this kind of crap.”
I raised the cup to her. “Another time.”
I’d taken a few steps toward the door by the time she spoke again. Her low laugh made my stomach lurch.
“Except I shouldn’t know this kind of crap, should I?” She paused. “When did I last make you a coffee, Darren? Six, seven years ago? You always have tea, and you never have it here, not once in all the years I’ve been working here.”
I turned back to her, played it cool. “I come here…”
She shook her head. “No. You don’t.”
I took a sip of coffee and gave her a nod. “It’s good.”
She gave me the first proper smile since I’d walked in, despite another uproar from Mandy’s table.
“I’ll make sure I give you your sugar next time.”
So much I wanted to say, and none of it was about pissing sugar.
I don’t want your sugar sachets, Jodie, I want your pussy on my fucking face. I want you to ride my dick until you squirt all over me. I want to take your asshole until you moan like the dirty little bitch I used to love.
Used to. What a fucking joke.
I said nothing.
Tonya stayed later than the other ladies. She hovered until there was a lull, checking out her phone for an age with just the dregs of a cappuccino in her cup. She waited until the coast was clear and Lorraine was out the back before she came to the counter.
“She was talking shit,” she announced. I stared blankly. “Mandy,” she said. “All bluster. All her a lady never tells bullshit is just a cover up for the fact she hasn’t had another go yet. If she had we’d be hearing all about it by now. It would have been plastered all over her Facebook. Lady my bloody arse.”
