“Figures,” he muttered.
“Lay off, Knox,” Silver said as she shook two cocktail shakers at once. “You know being a dick costs you in turnover.”
“I want this one to turn over,” he insisted. “Why don’t you hide in the kitchen and text like everyone else?”
“Because I don’t have a cell phone,” I reminded him.
“Who in the fuck doesn’t have a cell phone?”
“Someone who lost hers in a tragic rest stop accident,” I shot back. “I’d love to continue this stimulating conversation, but I need to help Max turn over some tables.”
“You tell him, Not Tina,” Hinkel McCord crowed from his barstool.
Knox looked like he was going to pick him up and hurl him through the door. I took a cleansing breath and did what I did best—stuffed all of my feelings into a little box with a tight lid. “Is there something you need before I go back to work?”
His eyes narrowed at my polite tone. We stared each other down until we were interrupted.
“There she is,” a familiar voice boomed over the din.
“Justice!” My cafe-owning future husband had his arm around a beautiful woman.
“I brought the wife so she could meet my fiancée,” Justice joked.
“Wait’ll Muriel hears about this,” Hinkel cackled, whipping out his phone.
“I’m Tallulah,” she said, leaning over the bar to offer her hand. “Hubs told me all about your first day in town.”
She was tall with a cascade of long braids down her back. She was wearing a St. John Garage t-shirt, jeans, and cowboy boots. “Sorry I missed your first time in the cafe. Heard it was quite a show.”
“This one hasn’t been half bad either,” Hinkel interjected.
“It’s nice to meet you, Tallulah,” I said. “I’m sorry for proposing to your husband, but the man makes coffee that angels sing about.”
“Don’t I know it,” she agreed.
“Where’s your section? We’re here to patronize you,” Justice said.
Knox rolled his eyes.
“Don’t mind him,” Silver said, elbowing the boss out of the way. “He’s just pissy because Nay hasn’t screwed up yet.”
I wanted to kiss her for giving me a nickname other than Not Tina.
“He gave me one shift and no mistakes,” I explained, not caring that he was standing behind me.
“Knox Morgan,” Tallulah chided. “That’s not how we welcome new Knockemouts. Where’s your sense of community?”
“Go away, Tally,” Knox grumbled, but there was no heat to it.
“Naomi, I’ll have your darkest, strongest beer,” Tallulah said. “And the hubs here will have a piña colada with whipped cream.”
Justice rubbed his palms together in anticipation. “And we’ll split an order of the pulled pork flatbread. Extra jalapeños.”
“No sour cream,” Tallulah interjected.
“You got it,” I said with a wink. “Have a seat, and I’ll bring your drinks right out.”
“You gonna write that down?” Knox asked as the couple wove their way through the crowd.