Awkward Beat [H.S]

Chapter 12

In which Fitz is a good friend but does not get a good friend in return. 

Chapter 12.

"Turkey cran on sourdough, Mrs. Styles."

"Mrs. Styles, that's an order of a bruschetta bagel followed by egg salad on whole wheat."

"Jeez. Does Harry have to wait this long for you to make his supper every night? Lagging on the production line!"

By the end of my shift at the Hub Cub, I was forced to conclude that Thomas was the worst person I had ever known. No matter what, he wouldn't give up on the 'I [HEART] HARRY STYLES' pen marks that had long ago been scrubbed from my forehead. And it was fairly inconvenient that Macy usually happened to be around when he threw those nicknames up in the air. Essentially, Thomas was inadvertently blowing my cover.

I was not impressed.

"He needs to be fired," I told Macy at the end of my shift when I met her in the stock room to gather my things.

She rolled her eyes, amused. "He has more shifts than anyone else. To replace him, we'd have to hire three new employees. Besides, he's our best worker."

I flashed her a look. "That's hurtful."

Macy giggled, reviewing the stack of inventory papers in front of her. "Fitz, you're always five minutes late for your shift and you spend half the time back here complaining to me.

Did you really think you were employee of the month?"

I grumbled to myself. "Well, at the very least you could reassign him to cash or busboy duty.

He's an absolute prick on the production line."

"You were the one who squirted a sad face in ketchup all over the back of his shirt," Macy pointed out, calmly engrossed in her worksheets.

"He deserved it. You know, I can handle the tosser when it's just about the sandwiches, but when he's throwing this 'Mrs. Harry Styles' rubbish in my face all the time, it's all I can do not to shove his fingers through the meat cutter and turn on the switch."

Macy eyed me for a moment, crossing one leg over the other. "Are you dating Harry?"

I had to do a double take to see if she was serious. "What? No!" I spluttered. "Don't tell me you've actually started to believe what that prat Thomas is going on about!"

She gave a slight shrug. "No, of course not."

"Then why would you think so?"

Feigning indifference, she said, "Liam mentioned something of the like."

Liam? Liam?!

"Liam?" I cried, regurgitating my thoughts. "What? I – when?" I racked my brains to determine how this was possible.

She shrugged again, as if these details were of no importance. "He stopped by last Saturday after leaving the club with your big group. He said you and Harry were seeing each other."

Oh.

Bollocks.

I had never even considered that Liam and Macy might actually speak to one another. Even if they did, I never thought they would venture beyond the conversational territory of her job and his extracurriculars.

I had not planned for this.

So, instead of addressing the issue at hand, I smoothly changed the subject.

"Liam stopped by on Saturday?" I asked, leaning against the counter and folding my arms across my chest.

Almost instantly, Macy's cheeks turned a rosy shade of pink. "Only for a few minutes," she said, brushing it off. "He said it was on his way home."