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I open my register and do my initial count, making sure the correct amount of money is inside before I start my shift.
“She’s in the back if you need anything.” She hitches her thumb toward our manager’s office. “I doubt she’ll be here much longer. She’ll give you instructions on how to close up before she leaves though.”
“Sounds good.” I watch her remove her apron before grabbing her purse from under the register.
“Thanks again for coming in and for being okay working by yourself. The thought of another double had me ready to drown myself in the bathtub.”
I bite back a laugh.
“No problem. I’ve done a couple myself this past week. Totally understand.”
“Janice better hire someone soon or I’m going to lose it.”
“Any prospects?”
“She interviewed a couple of people today. Fingers crossed.”
“Yeah.”
“Well, see ya.” She rounds the counter, giving me a half wave.
“Bye.” I watch her exit moments later.
Janice comes out a few minutes later and walks me through the checklist on how to close and set the alarm before I leave. She heads out shortly after, leaving me alone for the first time ever. After about an hour I realize why she felt comfortable doing so... because we’re so slow it’s downright painful.
I’ve had a whopping two customers since she left.
I’m so bored I don’t know how I’m going to last another two hours until closing time.
I’ve played games on my phone. Texted Rita for a little while, during which time she somehow convinced me to go to a party with her tomorrow. Me, at a party, college life really is changing me. Now, I’m flipping through a magazine I found in the rack we keep by the door, reading about the latest break-ups and who’s dating who: celebrity addition, even though I don’t know who half the people are, when the door beeps, signaling a customer.
I look up and in an instant, my heart is in my throat.
Are you fucking kidding me!is what I would have said if I were on speaking terms with the ass now standing on the opposite side of the counter from me, his arm draped over a pretty brunette rocking a shoulder length bob and bright red pouty lips.
Where does he find these women?
“Aren’t you going to greet your customers?” Atlas smirks, challenge in his eyes.
Sothat’swhy he’s here. I haven’t spoken to him in nearly a week and this is his attempt to break my silence. Come into my work where he knows Ihaveto speak to him, to serve him his order, to be otherwise polite and helpful.
My gaze darts to the lone customer sitting at the far table with his face buried in his laptop. I doubt he’d care if I dropped a few choice words to the infuriating man in front of me. Then again, I have no way of actually knowing that for sure.
So the question is, is telling Fucker McFuckerson to go fuck himself worth losing my job?
No, no it isn’t.
“What can I get for you?” I say instead, my voice void of any emotion.
“Hmm...” Atlas taps his chin dramatically. “I’m not sure. Trina, what would you like?”
I watch it happen. Watch the stars burst in her eyes as she looks up at him, dark lashes fanning her cheeks as she blinks slowly and purposefully. I don’t even question her reaction, having seen it play out on dozens of girls before her. He gave her a nickname. I’d guess her name is Katrina or something of the sort. I’ve seen him use this trick countless times. It’s his attempt to make them feel special. And the fucked up thing, it works. Every. Single. Time. And the even more fucked up thing? Her parents and all of her friends probably already call her that. It’s not like he comes up with original pet names or anything. Nope, just shortens the name. Like... What the fuck!
“I’ll have an iced caramel macchiato, hold the espresso. I don’t want to be up all night.” She giggles.
“You don’t?” Her and Atlas exchange a heated glance.
“On second thought, throw a double shot of espresso in there.” She blushes.
