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“Thank you.”
Lainey nods and heads back to work so I take a sip of my coffee. I’m not the Instagram type where I need to capture everything I do, I save that for work. But I am working on some new tattoo ideas so I post some work in progress snaps to my story and then get back to work. I’m drawing for what feels like hours, my coffee and muffin are long gone when my butt starts to fall asleep. I hate that feeling and I know I should stand so I bring my empty dishes to the dish bin on top of the garbage. Ah, it feels good to stretch my legs out. I am barely thirty and already it feels like my body is giving out on me. My legs crack as I stretch them out with a few extra steps to grab a napkin.
“You’re working hard for a day off,” Lainey says, coming up behind me. She would have startled me, had I not noticed her gone from behind the counter.
“Eh, it doesn’t feel like work when I’m drawing,” I admit. I am still wearing my hand brace and Lainey looks at it questioningly.
“Did you hurt it at work?”
“Nah, I wear it so I don’t get hurt. Helps my hand not hurt when I’m tattooing all day long,” I explain.
“Gotcha, I should probably get my cake decorator to wear one of those, her hands are always killing her from the icing bag.”
“It definitely helps.” I nod.
“Let me know if you need more coffee, it’s on the house if you’re staying here.” She smiles.
“Just for me?” I blurt out. I can’t help it, I need to know if she is flirting with me or not.
“Well, it’s kind of the policy. But I don’t add free muffins to everyone’s order,” she says with a wink and that’s when I can confirm that there’s more going on than just in my head. She heads back behind the counter and I follow her, grabbing another mug of coffee and a fresh muffin. It is probably more sugar than I need, but I am hungry.
Heading back to my table, I devour the muffin and sip my coffee. Noticing this time the milk was in the shape of a leaf instead of a heart.What does this mean?Am I really becoming one of those girls looking to the shape of my milk as some kind of meaning? What is going on with me? I should just ask Lainey out and see what she says. Although I don’t want to come on too strong, especially when I just moved to town. I’d have to find a new place to get coffee from and I have a feeling, considering how small this town is, that might be a hard thing to do. God, I might have to resort to making coffee at home and no matter what, it never tastes as good as when someone else makes it for you.
“Do you mind if I sit with you?” Lainey says a few minutes later, standing above me. I glance around the cafe and realize all the other seats are taken up. The choice is between me and some older man reading the newspaper.
“Of course.” I move my bag and she takes a seat with her sandwich and iced drink.
“I have like fifteen minutes to eat, so I won’t be here long,” she says nervously.
“Don’t worry about it, it is your cafe after all. Stick around as long as you’d like,” I reassure her.
“What are you working on?” she asks quietly after a few moments of silence.
“Just drawing up some tattoo designs for a flash sale.”
“What’s that?” She crinkles her eyebrows into one.
“People can choose from like ten to fifteen designs for a cheaper price on a certain day, we call it a flash sheet sale,” I explain. “Do you have any tattoos?”
“No, Reagan’s always telling me to come in but I don’t know what I’d even get,” she says with a sigh.
“What about a cinnamon roll?” I joke.
“Honestly, I think that would make my parents proud.” She laughs.
“Do they own the place?”
“Kind of? Like yes they do, but so do I. It’s complicated.” She shrugs.
“Gotcha.” I nod. I don’t want to press her for details.
“Can I see some of the flash designs?” She peeks over my iPad, and I nod. I turn it toward her, and her eyes widen as she sees the array of designs.
“Wow, those are some naked women.” She laughs with a blush.
“A lot of my clients are queer women who want women on them.” I shrug. I don’t personally get the appeal, but I had been asked so many times if I did pinup women that I knew I needed to start offering some.
“Are you queer?” Lainey blurts out. “Fuck, sorry. That was so rude. You totally don’t have to answer that.” She scolds herself and I chuckle.
