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“Are you throwing us out?” the blond dude asks, clearly gearing up for a fight already.
“No, I’m asking you to be quieter or leave. Your choice.” She points to a sign on the wall that reads: UNLESS WE’RE HOSTING AN EVENT, PLEASE KEEP THE VOLUME DOWN. THANK YOU!
Kate is a beautiful, sturdy, no-nonsense African American woman in her late twenties. I’m fairly sure she could take down any one of those men, but it’s unfair that she should have to deal with them in the first place.
"Can you believe this place?" the chubby one says. "We're just having some fun, lady."
"That's why I'm telling you to go to the bar next door," Kate replies. "This is a coffee shop where people come to study and work."
"Work late on a Thursday night? Can't make the bills if they don't, hey? It must be those pesky freelancers. But you're hot; you should come to work for me," Mr. Hot and Bothered tells Kate.
"Maybe people who have dreams and aspirations?" I snap, unable to help myself. "Not everyone wants to get wasted and act like an idiot."
"Ouch," the brown-haired one chimes in. I notice he has olive-toned skin that starkly contrasts his crisp white shirt. He raises his eyebrows at me, clearly amused by my outburst. "You tell 'em, girl."
"Shut up," I mutter, cheeks heating up. "Just... keep it down, OK?"
"Fine, fine," the brown-haired man says. "We'll be quiet as mice. You heard her, boys. Let's drink up and get out of here."
"Thank you," I say, smiling though my eyes are still shooting daggers.
"You know, you're pretty cute when you're angry."
"Leave me alone," I snap, glaring at him. He smirks, clearly enjoying my discomfort, but I refuse to rise to the bait. Instead, I take a deep breath and refocus on my work.
The men aren't exactly quiet, but they stop their sexist comments. Thank goodness for small favors.
I just manage to edit my marketing plan to my satisfaction when my phone rings.
"Damien?" I ask when I answer. I've raised Damien, my twelve-year-old brother since he was four and I was twenty-one. Our parents died in a car crash just outside New York. I was just finishing my undergrad in literature and was forced to get a job as a nanny to pay the bills. Plus, it’s not like having an undergrad degree in literature qualifies me for any real jobs. I've been doing nanny work ever since while pursuing my real passion—yoga—in my spare time. I finished teacher’s training about two years ago and am now studying business to be able to one day run my own studio.
"Maddie, I need to get home,” Damien says. “Daniel's mom couldn't make it. She got stuck at the ER working a double shift because of some accident. Can you come?"
I groan.
Of all nights.
But there’s nothing I can do about it. "Of course," I say. Damien knows I don't want him to take the subway alone at night. "It will take me twenty minutes to half an hour to get there. See you soon, buddy."
Damien plays basketball with his buddy Daniel. Daniel's mom is also single and works as a nurse. Looking at my phone, I realize she's been trying to call me and eventually left a message. I play it.
"Hey, Maddie. There's been an emergency. A massive accident and I need to stay late. Please can you fetch them and let Daniel stay with you? Otherwise, I'll call our nanny."
I fire off a quick reply, pack up my laptop, and get ready to leave.
I notice that the group of drunken suits is leaving now, too. I try to hurry to get out the door before them, but the dark-haired guy jogs up in front of me and opens the door.
"For you, my lady." He smiles at me, but then his gaze wanders to my ass, and because I'm wearing a pair of tight yoga pants, I'm sure he's getting a good view.
"Seriously? You're opening the door for me?"
"Come on," he says, "you need to loosen up. I haven't said anything demeaning to you, but you're acting like a stuck-up... maiden."
"You need to grow up," I counter.
"I did a long time ago. But someone like you probably knows nothing about that." He looks me up and down, and the cheer in his eyes has shifted to contempt.
"No, of course, I wouldn't," I retort, my voice dripping with sarcasm, "I don't own suits worth thousands of dollars; I just work, study, and raise a child. I'm very immature. Good night to you and your very grown-up friends."
