Chapter 6: Order Something Or Get The Fuck Out.

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"Cinnamon wonder: A crispy, golden brown pastry filled with cinnamon and whipped cream. Doesn't that sound delightful?"

"Are you done yet?" I asked, after listening to him read almost half of the entire menu.

"I've always been a picky eater. Any recommendations? Since you do work here." He smirked, eyes still glued to the menu.

I rolled my eyes. "And if you end up hating whatever it is that I choose, I'll most likely never hear the end of it."

"On the contrary, I actually trust you." He set the menu aside and looked up at me for once, locking his eyes with my own. "You must have great taste when it comes to pastries, seeing that you have excellent taste in men."

"What the heck is that supposed to mean?" I asked, furrowing my eyebrows.

"I mean, you seem to be having trouble staying away from me." He explained, lying back in his chair. "Almost as if you can't get enough of me."

I was taken aback by his arrogant comment. How can someone be so full of themselves?

"You're the one sitting here, at this table, in the café that I work in. Maybe it's YOU who can't get enough of ME?" I stated, emphasizing the two words. Well, it was more of a question instead of a statement. You see, I'm not quick on my feet when it comes to comebacks and such.

"Or maybe I'm just here for breakfast?" He asked-stated back.

UGGGHHHHHH!!!!!

"You know what? I'm done playing your little brain games. This isn't even my side of the freaking café, so I'm not obliged to stand here and listen to your bullshit."

I looked back at the bar where I saw Bethany last, she was sitting on one of the stools, watching us.

"Bethany, you have a customer on your side!" I yelled.

I then looked back at him. The expression on his face would indicate that of an amused human being but I couldn't care less. I bent closer to him, noticing him catch his breath for a second.

"Order something or get the fuck out."

And I walked away, leaving behind one baffled, arrogant Thomas.

***

The rest of my shift was Thomas-free. After my little 'outburst' he left without even ordering anything, the cheek! But he did happen to tip us ever so generously. I honestly don't get him.

Before leaving, I grabbed a couple of chocolate chip muffins and put them into a plastic container.

"Going to see your grandma?" Dylan asked. I nodded as I carefully sealed the container.

"Say hi to her for me." He said, handing me a paper bag.

"Will do." I replied, taking it from him. After placing the container inside it, I handed him the keys to lock up for the night. "You have one job Dyl, don't screw it up."

"Me? Screwing up? My name isn't Marianne now is it?"

"Hey!" I exclaimed, nudging him with my elbow. "Meanie."

He chuckled, grabbing my elbow before it could make contact with his stomach. "Nice try." He whispered.

I didn't notice until then how close we were standing next to each other.

So close to the point where I could hear him whisper. He was still holding onto my elbow. I looked away from his grasping hand to his eyes and they were set on me, his lips pursed.

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