Sugar

7

    chapter seven
florence thompson
song: bones - one republic & galantis

    The air between us was thick, and I felt any remark get caught carefully in my throat. My mouth felt as if it was filled with cotton balls, my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. I wanted to take off in the other direction and hide behind the counter again but my feet felt as if they were nailed to the floor, rendering me incapable to move from the spot I was in.

    Vincent's eyes slid over me in a wickedly amused manner, causing my heart to nearly leap out of my throat but I did my best to keep calm.

    I suddenly felt like a prey being stocked by a ferocious lion, and I wasn't sure I liked the feeling all that much.

    "So, Florence," Vincent spoke, his velvety voice breaking through his full lips as he leaned back, resting an arm across the back of the booth, "do tell me, do you put the sugar and creamer in first?" He asked, his tone obnoxiously teasing as he sipped from his black coffee.

    I felt my cheeks pink at his reference.

    "I do not, actually. I'm not that barbaric," I joked back, a small but nervous smile making its way to my lips.

    Vincent nodded slowly, placing his cup back onto the table.

    "I would argue that point but I'm sure we don't have enough time to debate the merits of pouring milk before cereal." He smirked, tilting his head slightly as if to get a better view of me. "Why don't you sit? Brandon surely won't be back for a few moments." He motioned towards the empty side of the booth where Brandon had been sitting only moments ago.

    I noticed the expensive watch sitting securely on his wrist as the sleeve of his annoyingly expensive suit slightly rose up with the motion.

    I'm pretty sure his watch alone costed two times my current annual income, if not more.

    "I'm on the clock," I informed him, a tight smile on my lips.

    Truth be told, Glenn wouldn't care if I sat with a customer and talked, hell half the time he encouraged it to create a bond with our customers and make our diner more personable but right now I was feeling like a measly antelope sitting in front of a starving lion.

    "A shame, really." He smirked slowly, causing something in my stomach to flutter ridiculously. "While we're on the topic of things that have let me down, I've yet to receive a text, Miss Thompson," he was teasing but the way he spoke my last name just as he had over message made me feel some type of way.

    I chuckled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

    "Pressing matters awaited, like work," I joked.

     He nodded slowly, looking around the diner and suddenly making me feel very small and very cheap.

    I love Glenn's diner and working here and the day I have to leave will probably be a day full of tearful goodbyes and a whole lot of heartache. I would work here even if I wasn't getting paid just because I love being here so much. Glenn is like a grandfather to me, and Ben and Rico made every shift that much more enjoyable.

    Even if I was rich beyond belief and never had to work another day in my life, you would still find me here.

    Glenn's Midnight Diner is like a second home to me.

    "Do you like working here?" Vincent asked me, absentmindedly as he continued looking around the retro diner. From the checkered tiles, red barstools and neon signs this place looked like it was pulled straight from an old movie.