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“Good. Now get out of my way. I have an order to fill.”
Relief spread across the pink-haired boy’s face. “That’s more like it.”
Kris’s amusement faded when she carried the food out to the blonde, who peered at her coffee and demanded to know why there wasn’t more cinnamon.
“When I say four small sprinkles, I meanfour.Not three. Not three and a half.Four.And the coffee’s cold.” The blonde pushed the mug away like it was a dead rodent. “Remake it.”
Really? Let’s see how cold it is when I throw it all over you.
Kris drew in a deep breath. “Of course,” she said through gritted teeth. Her hand trembled with rage as she took the latte back to the counter; some liquid spilled over the side and pooled on the small saucer plate.
“I can make it,” Nate said, surmising what had happened in zero point five seconds when he saw the coffee and Kris’s face. “I’ll bring it out to her, too.”
“No, I’ll do it.” Kris bared her teeth. “I’ll add a special seasoning.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.” He took the mug from her and nudged her toward the register. “I got it. Seriously.”
She relented, mainly because Nate was already making a new latte.
“How do you do it?” she asked, watching him pull the decaf espresso shots first. “All these terrible customers all the time.”
“Not all the time. Some are great, most are neutral. They come in, pay, get out.” Nate pulled the regular shots next. “There’ll always be shitty people who look down on you or blame you when something goes wrong because you’re the easiest target, but that’s expected when you work in the service industry. You just gotta put up with it, especially since waiters depend on tips for a living.”
Kris’s brows drew together. She’d always known that being a service worker was no walk in the park, but there was a difference between abstract knowledge and firsthand experience. Her stomach clenched when she thought about how much shit Nate, Elijah, and the rest of the staff at Alchemy had to put up with regularly.
Even though Kris was also a waitress at the moment, she had an out. Sure, she was cut off from her funds, but her family was still rich, and her dad would eventually forgive her. She was his only daughter, and if she turned on the charm and remorse, she could get him to relent—she just didn’t want to, because she was pissed athim.
Kris had the privilege of walking away from this job whenever she wanted, but most service workers didn’t. She could lash out at customers because their tips didn’t mean much to her in the long run—though they helped her chip in for groceries and rent during her extended stay at the Reynoldses—but for some people, tips meant the difference between putting food on the table and starving. That meant they had to put up with even the shittiest of bullshit from the shittiest of customers.
She watched Nate take the latte to the bleached blonde, who examined it with a critical eye before she deemed it worthy of drinking.
“You’re a saint,” Kris said when Nate returned to the counter.
A wicked smile slashed across his face. “I enjoy sinning far too much to be a saint.”
“Really?” She leaned against the counter and positioned her body in a way that showed off her curves. She suppressed a smile when heat flared in Nate’s eyes. “I don’t believe you. You’ll have to prove it.”
“Oh, I will.” Nate lowered his head so he could whisper right in her ear. “Starting in an hour, when the cafe closes and I have you bent over the table in the backroom with my cock buried in your tight little pussy.”
Heat bloomed in Kris’s chest and spread through her limbs, and she had to clench her thighs against the rush of moisture flooding between her legs.
Nate’s filthy talk had ruined more than one good pair of underwear.
His green eyes gleamed with a mixture of heat and amusement at the flush on her cheeks and chest. “New customer,” he said in a normal voice. “We’ll pick this up later.”
Great. Now Kris was going to be turned on and squirming for the next—she checked the clock—fifty-six minutes. More, if you counted the time it took for Elijah to vacate the premises. Thankfully, he was the only other person on shift this afternoon.
Kris’s clothes already felt too tight and scratchy against her sensitized skin.
I’m going to get you back for this,she mouthed at Nate.
Nate, the sexy, infuriating bastard, merely chuckled in response.
Kris fiddled with her bracelet and tried to push the dirty images of what would happen in the backroom in an hour out of her mind. The last thing she needed was to fucking moan in the middle of a coffee order.
She faced the new customer, bracing herself for another ridiculous drink order, but her shoulders relaxed when she saw who it was. “Hey, Gemma,” she said. “What can I get you?”
Gemma smiled. She was the regular Kris had spotted at the cafe throughout the summer, and though they hadn’t talked much before, they’d struck up an easy camaraderie since Kris started working at Alchemy. Sometimes, when Nate wasn’t on shift and Gemma was the only person here during the slow after-lunch hours, Kris would swing by her table and chat about random things—books, movies, Gemma’s cat Smokey, the abomination that was skim milk—to alleviate her boredom.
