"You're a barista?" he asks, looking baffled.
"You say it like it's a bad thing." I'm losing my patience quickly. Maybe his date contributed to the charity and he was only arm candy. I pull my fingers to my lips to cover my smile at the thought of that.
"Well...no...it's just that..." His voice trails. "It's just that I assumed..."
"I'm going to bed." I push on the door with both hands now forcing him to step onto the porch. "Good luck with Petra."
I hear him mumbling through the crack of the door as I slam it shut and lock it. Any lasting fantasy I had about him just evaporated into thin air.
Chapter 2
"You said what?" Small pellets of coffee come shooting out with the words from my best friend's mouth.
"Thanks for the shower, jerk." I laugh as I pull a napkin across the nameplate on my chest. "I thought he wanted to sleep with me." I wince knowing that she's never going to let this go.
"Christ, Sadie," she shrieks. "Why would you think that?"
"Um...thanks." I playfully shrug my shoulders. "I mean I know I'm no Alexa Jackson, but the way he said it. I just thought he was talking about seducing me."
"Don't beat yourself up." She runs her hand down my back. "You're gorgeous, Sadie. I didn't mean it like that."
"I'm not." I laugh. "I made such a fool of myself."
I watch the expression on her face change from glee to pity. I hate that. Alexa has been my best friend since grade school. She was there when I was sick and after my heart transplant. She was always the pretty one and I've always been the smart one. It's just how it's worked. I've watched her date every boy I've ever had a crush on. How could I blame any of them? She's beautiful. She has everything I've always wanted. The long blonde hair, the beautiful blue eyes, curves in all the right places and a body that is whole. It's flawless.
My mousy brown hair, big brown eyes and thin frame have always paled in comparison to her. The only part of my life when I haven't felt insecure in her shadow is in school. It's where I belong. It's where I can hide away from the world.
"I think we had too much champagne last night." She reaches to level the nameplate on my shirt. "You weren't thinking clearly."
"I'll go with that." I push my elbow into her side. "It's almost seven. Time to put on a happy face and serve some coffee."
She rolls her eyes as she adjusts the plain white dress shirt that she's wearing. That along with black pants and a red apron is our required uniform at Star Bistro. I giggle as she unbuttons the shirt so her cleavage is just barely visible.
"You're such a tease," I say as I walk past her into the already bustling bistro.
***
"He's here. Oh my fucking god, he is here," Alexa hisses into my ear as I'm trying to take the order of a man with a very thick Russian accent.
"So that's a large, quad, half-sweet, caramel macchiato?" I repeat back hoping that this time I've finally got his order right. The dozen people standing behind him waiting for their java fix don't look too amused by my lack of translation skills.
"Yeah, yeah." The burly Russian exclaims as he claps his hands. "You right!"
I smile as I take the cash he offers. I ring it through and drop the remaining few cents into the tip jar at the edge of the counter.
"Sadie." Alexa pulls me to the side as she whispers my name. "The guy. That guy. He's here."
"Good for him." I can't focus on what she's saying. Josephine, our manager, is staring a hole through both of us right now. I may not need the job, as Hunter Reynolds pointed out last night but I love this job. I can't lose it.
"Not now." I pull on Alexa's apron to get her attention. "We're so backed up. Whoever he is, you can talk to him on your break."
"Pay attention." She grabs both of my shoulders and gives me the slightest shake. "That guy. The one you thought wanted to fuck you in the coat closet. He's here."
I stare at her lips. Is she saying that Hunter is here? He's in the bistro? Now? I search her face for some clarification but she's fixated on something past my shoulder. I'm frozen. I can't turn around.
"Shit. He's waving to me." She drops her hands and I get a glimpse of her fingers wafting through the air next to my head.
"I feel sick," I whisper. If I have to be subjected to Hunter Reynolds picking up my best friend, I'm going to hide in the back room with the ground coffee and paper cups for eternity. When did my life become this humiliating?