Just a little more of this wedding bullshit. Just suck it up for a little bit more.
“I wasn’t planning on coming up earlier,” she said matter-of-factly. “Why don’t you just tell me when you want me there and I’ll work my schedule around you.” Mary made sure to add a bite to the last part, because frankly she was sick of this high and mighty act that Margo put on. I’m sick of being a pushover.
Margo made a humph sound in the back of her throat. “I need you at Mom’s no later than nine in the morning on the sixteenth, all right?”
“Yeah.” Margo rattled off a few more things, but by then Mary wasn’t paying attention. “I’m at work so I got to go.” She hung up before Margo could add another ten things she wanted Mary to do before the wedding and picked up her pace. With her house being just a few blocks from the coffee shop where she worked, Mary usually opted to walk.
As soon as she stepped into Just One More Cup, the trendy yet retro styled cafe, the scent of coffee beans and freshly baked pastries filled her nose. At only eight in the morning the interior was packed with college students.
Polly, the other barista, looked frazzled as she moved from the register to the machines and display case for the pastries. Mary heard the relieved sigh Polly let out when she spotted her.
“Oh thank God you’re here. I’ve already spilled three cups, dropped two pastries, messed up far too many orders, and am sweating like a whore in church.”
Mary grabbed an apron and tied it around her waist as she smiled. “I’m here to save the day,” Mary teased. She glanced toward the backroom and asked, “Where’s Kristen?”
Polly snorted. “Called out sick. I’m sure she’s hungover. I’ve been here since we opened at six and it’s been nonstop.”
“You should have called me,” Mary went to the register to take Polly’s place. “I would have come in sooner.”
Polly shrugged. “I thought I could handle it.”
“Well, I’m here now so just breathe. Mark comes in at noon and he is the fastest barista here.” She gave Polly a reassuring smile and turned toward the girl waiting impatiently on the other side of the counter. “Sorry about that. What can I get you?” The line was starting to grow as more people came in. As Mary worked on the drink orders, Polly handled the pastries and made sure everything stayed stocked.
“The wait is horrible today,” the young girl said in an annoyed tone.
Mary gave her a smile that was totally forced. “Sorry, busy morning. Everyone needs their caffeine fix.”
The girl didn’t respond as she rattled off her order. “One caramel latte, and I’d like cinnamon on the top and not mixed in.” She slapped a five-dollar bill on the counter before waiting to know the price, clearly in a hurry.
And for the next few hours they tag-teamed the orders. By the time the morning rush died down a bit, Mark had showed up and Mary was able to slip in the back for a short break. She sat her ass down on a box and breathed out. She was tired, her feet ached, her forehead was coated in a light sheen of sweat, and she felt like the scent of coffee beans had forever been imprinted in her pores.
She grabbed her cell and glanced at the text she’d just received.
We still good for later?
She sent a reply back to the freshman she was tutoring for calculus.
Still good. Meet you then.
She tucked her cell back in the pocket of her apron and exhaled as she rested her head on the wall.
It was a curse and a blessing that she excelled in subjects.
She closed her eyes and inhaled, smelling nothing but coffee beans. Mary didn’t even drink coffee. In fact, she loathed the smell of it, but Just One More Cup had been the first place to hire her, and the extra money on top of what she got from tutoring went a long way in helping her pay her own way and stand on her feet.
A few hours later she finished up work and headed down High Street toward her house. As much as she didn’t want to think about a certain bad boy, Mary wasn’t able to erase her thoughts where Alex was concerned. And that annoyed the hell out of her. Getting caught up in boys and wayward hormones wasn’t something she had time for.
Because if she let herself fall headfirst into all the feelings Alex Sheppard conjured up in her, it would end up costing her a whole lot of grief in the long run, that she knew for sure.
5
“Damn, man.” Alex sat across from Racer at the tiny ass, old as fuck kitchen table. “That fucking sucks.”