Finding Love in a Coffee Shop

Eiskaffee

A week later, holding things back still didn't come so easily.

"The boss wants to talk to you," my co-worker, Max, told me, his expression sympathetic.

Grimacing, I nodded. Talking to Zack was never any fun. He was an arrogant jerk, who never had anything but bad news to deliver. My mind racked my memories to see if I'd done anything wrong. None came up. Working at the cinema was easy. All I had to do was clean the theater after a movie let out, and sell tickets. There was literally no room to mess up. Unless you sold tickets to an R rated movie to underage teenagers, but I didn't do that.

So when I walked into his office, his announcement caused me to flip.

"Are you freaking joking?" The words were out of my mouth before I could realize I was saying them.

My boss, Zack, looked taken aback at my language, but he smoothly recovered. "I'm sorry, but there aren't enough hours to go around. I can't keep giving you so many more than the other employees. They're already talking about favoritism."

"They? I think you mean Chelsea, what a bit—"

"Chelsea has nothing to do with this," Zack said firmly.

Yeah, I'll bet. That girl hadn't liked me since the first day I'd started working here. In fact, the first day, she had made me clean a whole theater by myself. "It doesn't matter, anyway. This isn't about favoritism—"

"I know," Zack interrupted, silencing me with a hard look. "It's about surviving. You've said this. But everyone knows you already have two jobs. Surely having a few hours cut back from this one won't be too much of a problem."

I grit my teeth. It was hard to keep my cool around him. Attacking him wouldn't help me keep my job. I took a deep breath, releasing it slowly. "It might be. I don't know. It'd be better if I could just keep my hours though—"

"It's not fair to the other employees."

"They're kids! What do they need money for?"

"Perhaps the same things you do, we don't know their lives," he fired back.

I hunched my shoulders and stayed quiet, knowing he was right. No one could guess anyone's situation. I couldn't keep receiving special treatment. Maybe they did need the money, too. But did a seventeen-year-old really have to pay for house bills, school tuition for two students, gas, groceries, and everything else? Did they? Still, I held my tongue.

"Come on, this job can't be much fun, can it? Cleaning up people's messes at the movie theater?"

"It's still a job. I still make money," I pointed out through gritted teeth.

Zack frowned at me. "You're pretty desperate, huh?"

"Yes," I admitted because I had no idea what would happen if I lost any of the money that I was making then. I didn't even want to think about it.

"Well, I bet I can think of a way that might convince me to let you keep your hours."

I perked up at this, sitting straighter, my eyes a little wider than before. "Really?" Relief ran through me. "Why didn't you say so earlier?"

As soon as a lecherous look appeared in his eyes, my heart sunk into my gut. He made a suggestive gesture with his hand and my stomach twisted. "How about it? I'll pay you out of pocket," he offered.

The nausea in my stomach increased and heat ran through my. veins. Clenching my fists, I jumped up to my feet. "No, you sick bastard! You'll be in trouble for even suggesting—"

"Who's going to find out?" he cut in quickly. "Are you planning on telling someone?"

"Of course!" I all but growled at him. "The HR department, for starters!"