04| One Dark Job

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"So, did'ja girl speak to you yet?" Rascal, Chenelle's co-worker, questioned, covering his mic with his free hand as he handed a customer his bag. Chenelle shook her head. Rascal sucked his teeth noisily as he sped towards the coffee machine. He took a medium sized cup and began pouring the dark roast in it. He frowned and asked,  "Still?"

     "Still," she responded. She folded her arms over her chest, watching Rascal as he jogged back over to the drive-thru window and handed the customer their cup of coffee.

     "Damn, it's been a whole week! How long she 'finna keep a grudge?"

     Chenelle shrugged and pulled out her phone to check the time. Then, she stepped towards the cash register and opened it, counting the day's profits inside.

     "She must've got another chauffeur." Rascal teased before taking off his headset and resting it by the window.

     "Good, she's just saving me gas," Chenelle responded coldly. Rascal chuckled.

     "When her boy Pierce told me her car got stolen, I told that nigga, 'She's not getting that back my man.'"

     "Of course not! The chop shop gives you a payout and sells the vehicle within the same hour." She busted open a roll of quarters and sighed, "But of course, Ms. I'm So Perfect didn't listen to me."

     Rascal leaned on the counter and stared at her, watching her add quarters to her drawer for a few heartbeats. When she was finished, he cupped her face with one of his hands, brushing a stray curly hair behind her ear with the other, letting his fingers contour her jawline all the way down under her chin. He lifted her head up towards his and stroked her chin with his thumb.

     "You doing okay, Nel?" he asked in a low voice, changing the mood of their conversation entirely.

     "I'm doing fine," she replied with a reassuring smile.

     Chenelle had known Rascal for the three months she has worked at Apollo's, and in those three months, he has managed to learn everything about her from mere observation. At first, she found it strange how he'd take advantage of silent moments and just stare at her, but after the first month or so, she became accustomed to it. She started appreciating him, for he began to know more than Trinity ever will, and said a lot since her and Trinity were friends since the 6th grade.

     "You seem stressed." Rascal commented.

     "It's... something..." she admitted, knowing it wouldn't be sensible to say she's stressed over nothing. She moved her face away from his and went back to adding change to the cash register. "I feel like I'm slowly going into debt. There's just too much I have to pay for, and this shitty ass job doesn't give much."

     "Let me help you."

Chenelle shook her head. "I don't want you spending your mon-"

     "I don't care Chenelle, I got plenty."

Chenelle rolled her eyes. "And?"

     "And?" Rascal repeated somewhat belligerent. "Baby, I'm a gangsta! I can take care of you!"

     "And I don't want your money." Chenelle hissed through her gritted teeth as she slammed the door of the cash register close. She didn't like the idea of depending on somebody. "You can help me by getting me a better job, not by making me a housewife. Besides, I don't date gangsters."

     "Who said I wanted to make you a wife?" Rascal snapped back quickly. His hardened expression dissolved into compunction once he realized what he had just said. "I didn't-"

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