Tolyan. What an unusual name. “Do you mind spelling that for me?”
His eyebrows pinch together for a fraction of a second. “Just T is fine.” He pulls out a business card.
“My treat,” I say quickly. “To thank you for your help earlier.” And please come by again.
He opens his mouth as though to protest, then shrugs. “Be my guest.”
I give him a small smile and use my phone to pay for the coffee.
“Awesome,” Eric says, then enters “TEA” into the space for the customer’s name and hits FINAL before I can stop him. He smiles and clasps my shoulder. “Great job taking your first order.”
He places his hand so the thumb is touching the edge of my bra cup, then he moves his thumb back and forth. I freeze, too stunned to move. Doesn’t Eric know everyone in the café can see him? Or does he not care?
I glance at Sean, but he’s thumbing his phone.
“Isn’t it considered a microaggression to put your hand on a woman without her consent?” Tolyan asks calmly, but his question cuts through the air like a knife.
My heart starts racing. Tolyan’s doing it again—protecting me.
Eric flinches. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“Look.” Eric points at Tolyan, who lazily looks at the finger like he wants to break it. “I’m, like, the assistant manager here.”
“Actually, the manager’s son,” I grumble under my breath.
He continues like he hasn’t heard me. For all I know, he might not have. He’s too busy puffing himself up like a bird whose territory is being threatened by another bigger and meaner bird. “It’s my job to train the new staff and reinforce positive behavior through praise and reward.”
Touching my bra doesn’t count, I want to tell him, but keep my mouth shut. I need the money from this job, and I can’t be sure I’m going to get another one if I walk out. Besides, he touched my bra through the shirt, so some might just say I’m being overly sensitive. The cops probably would. They don’t think what Roy’s doing is bad enough to warrant a more vigorous response. They’ll probably just laugh
if I report Eric’s behavior.
Tolyan gives a stare cold enough that little beads of sweat appear above Eric’s lips despite the café’s A/C. “Give him his coffee, Angela,” Eric says.
“It’s Angelika,” I correct him.
He scowls. “Just do your job.”
What a hypocrite. All that ranting about how offensive it is when people get your name wrong, and now this. If I just didn’t have to eat or pay rent…
But life isn’t fair, and my body demands to be fed at least twice a day.
I put the coffee in the takeout cup with TEA printed in the name area. “Here you go.” I hand Tolyan the coffee.
He nods, then looks down at the cup. A faint sneer crosses his face, but almost immediately, he smooths his expression.
“Sorry,” I say with a small inward cringe. I don’t want him to think I screwed up his name, but before I can say more, he’s already out the door.
Damn it. I can almost hear the universe sigh in disappointment. Don’t bitch that I didn’t give you a fresh lemon.
Chapter Three
Tolyan
I walk out of the café and look at the coffee cup.
TEA.