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“Okay…” I wait for him to get to the point.
“And as a valued member of our barista crew, it disappoints me to discover that you failed to turn up at your shift due to lewd behavior.”
On the inside, I’m cringing. Last night had been so noisy, there was no doubt to anyone in the apartment below that I was getting fucked. But that’s beside the point. He has no right to bring up my sex life.
I pull back my shoulder and look him dead in his beady eyes. If he was that concerned about my being late for work, he would knock on the door or even call. He’s probably just annoyed that one of us is finally getting laid because all I hear from the downstairs apartment are the sounds of his computer games.
“I apologize for being late, talking about the reasons why is unprofessional.”
His lips thin. “It isn’t when your nighttime activities burden your teammates and disappoint our customers.”
“You’re being inappropriate,” I say through clenched teeth. “But I won’t be late again,”
His gaze sweeps down my uniform and settles on my wide hips. “See to it that it doesn’t.”
If I wasn’t one paycheck away from being homeless, I would tell him where to stick his job. But I can’t. Mr. Roberts provides me with employment, accommodation, and the attic space I need to complete my work. He even agreed to display my paintings for sale, even though nobody wants to pay more than a pittance.
Mr. Roberts glares down at me, his brows raised in expectation. If this is where he thinks I grovel, it isn’t going to happen.
“Is that all?” I ask.
Mr. Roberts nods.
I turn on my heel and walk toward the door.
“Alexis?”
“Yes?” I say without glancing over my shoulder.
“I didn’t hear your man walk up the stairs. Is he a customer?”
I shoot him my filthiest glare. “That’s none of your business.”
Before he can say anything else, I storm out of the room.
The lunchtime rush is more hectic than usual. More strangers than ever mingle with our regular customers to order pre-made sandwiches, bagels, and paninis. Maybe last night’s thunderstorm had caused more than just me to oversleep, and these people didn’t get time this morning to make a packed lunch.
After serving the bulk of the customers, I pick up a mop and bucket to straighten up the store. It’s the least I can do after leaving everyone short-staffed.
As I’m cleaning Jessika sidles up to me and murmurs, “How did it go with Mr. Roberts?”
“Don’t ask.” I shake my head. “Were things really that bad this morning?”
“Not really, but Mr. Roberts ranted about you making noise all night. It sounds like you had an amazing time” She gives me a sly smile and then nudges me in the ribs.
Heat rises to my cheeks, and I dip my head. “I didn’t get much sleep, that’s all.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah.” I raise a shoulder and wring out the mop.
“Did you listen to the soulmate recording like I suggested?” she asks.
My fingers slip from the mop’s handle, and I turn to meet her smiling eyes. “What do you know about it?”
“Shadows? Tentacles? A boatload of fun?” She asks with a broad grin.
My breath catches. I glance around the coffee shop, trying to make sure nobody’s listening. Mr. Roberts stands at the cash register, his lips tightening. The way he flashes his eyes tells me that I’m one step away from getting fired.
