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My pulse jumped instantly. Looking at the wall clock, my eyes widened. Shit. Shit. Shit. That second shower had totally screwed me.
“Come on, baby. We have to go,” I urged Suzie, kissing her head and lifting her from my leg.
Taking the pink backpack her mother handed me, I placed it on Suzie’s back, and reached for my breakfast—stuffing the eggs and bacon inside the thick waffle like a sandwich—then swung my own backpack over my shoulder.
“I’ll see you guys tonight.”
“Have a good day,” the others called after me.
“Bye, Mom. Bye, Mr. Müller. Bye, Chickens!” Little Suzie yelled from the door as I carried her, rushing out of the house.
With Suzie safe in her preschool, two busses, and a fifteen-minute walk later, I finally made it to work. On time, thank God.
Luxurious hotels, Gothic cathedrals, and high-class restaurants served as my sight-seeing part of the day while I walked. Nob Hill was a symbol of money and class, with upscale hotels and historic mansions, a far cry from the low-class neighborhood where I lived—a little over an hour away, but it was well worth the trip. For me, this place was also a symbol of new opportunities and better things to come.
When I turned the corner to the rear of the coffee shop, I halted. The guys were still standing by the back door, cell phones in their hands while they waited.
“Isn’t Lucas here?” I asked, jogging the last few steps to their side. It was seven in the morning and the café didn’t really open until eight, but Lucas—the manager, and the owner’s nephew—was supposed to have let them in half an hour ago. My gaze travelled to the other side of the building, to find the tip of his Lamborghini peeking out from around the curb.
“Please,” Josh snorted. “He’s probably passed out in the office from partying too hard last night.”
“It’s Tuesday,” Nick mumbled.
“Like that’s ever stopped him before,” Josh argued.
Sighing, and a little pissed off, I pulled the keys out of my pocket and unlocked the gate, entering the coffee shop with the guys. Everything was dark inside, but my eyes immediately went to the office. Heavy snoring drifted through the slightly ajar door.
“Called it.” Josh’s humorless chuckle echoed in the empty space. Walking to the lockers, he placed his keys and bag inside, then tied his apron around his waist.
Nick followed suit, and they both headed to the front of the shop to start gearing up for the morning rush—it would hit the second we opened those doors. My backpack dropped to the floor, as I grabbed the surface cleaner, a couple of paper towels, and headed for the office.
Lucas’ muffled complaints came from somewhere between his arms the moment I turned on the overhead light. His cheek was smashed against the desk, and I was pretty sure he was drooling. Pointing the bottle at him, I sprayed Windex all over his face.
“What? What the fuck was that?!” He staggered upright, wiping his mouth and eyes while I began to spray the glass surface.
“I’m cleaning,” I answered nonchalantly, giving the bottle one more squeeze for good measure.
“You sprayed cleaner all over me, you idiot!”
“I did?” I faked shock. “Damn, I’m so sorry. I’m just getting your drool off the glass. Mr. Di Rossi is coming today, and he likes his desk squeaky clean.”
Disdain contorted his face, and he looked at me like I was an insolent teenager. True, I had just turned nineteen, and we were all young here. Nick was only seventeen, while Josh was twenty-one years old, and yet, any of us was more mature and responsible than the thirty-year-old douchebag managing this place.
Besides, I couldn’t be responsible for what I did when “stupid” was around me. Hiding my sarcasm wasn’t really my forte.
Lucas snorted. “Do you really think you are better than me?” he challenged. “I can spend in one night what you make in a year, and you stink. You always smell like, like sweat.” His face scrunched up in disgust. “Good God, man, can’t you shower?”
My nostrils flared with his insult. I knew I shouldn’t let him get to me, but oh how the bastard pissed me off daily. “I smell because I take two buses and walk the rest of the way to get here. Every. Single. Day. And I still manage to be great at my job. Besides, I’d rather stink from determination and hard work than from alcohol and drugs. The stench of whisky and crack on you reaches the street.”
A derisive chuckle left him, and he stood, fixing his shirt. He was wearing the same clothes from last night—judging by the wrinkled Armani suit.
“I smell of money, and a life you could never even dream of; things you will never achieve. You can keep pretending you are someone, yet you are nothing but a glorified barista.” Walking around the desk, he made his way to the door. “Don’t think that because my uncle gave you a key to this place, you are anything other than replaceable. Ordinary. You’ll do well to remember your place.”
It took everything in me not to tell him to fuck off, or let my fist do it for me. Yet, I was proof that miracles did happen, because my mouth stayed shut.
“I’m going home, and I won’t come back until next week. Cover for me and take care of the employees’ schedules.”
The roaring of his engine resounded outside as he sped away, and I made my way to the bathroom.
