Dirty Deals With The Devil

Chapter 15. || Counters And Conversations||

Day 14

It was official, I hated this job.

I stared at the ancient, black coffeemaker once again, trying to remember what Darra said to do whenever it stopped working. I couldn't even remember a thing of what the strawberry blonde had told me before hurriedly dashing off, no doubt happy to be relieved of her shift.

I had resumed my job at the tea shop just today, after cheer leading practice and Phil had explained I would be working shifts with Darra at the counter, it seemed pretty easy until she had left over an hour ago and the crowd had started to increase rapidly.

Between collecting orders, preparing the drinks and serving the pastries I had been totally overwhelmed and the misbehaving of the coffee machine felt like the last straw on the camel's back.

"What is taking the coffee so long?" I heard Blake ask, staring at me from the other side of the counter. He had been on his feet all afternoon, serving, talking and cleaning and it looked like the stress was taking it's toll on him too.

"Mrs Morrisson has yelled at me twice already," he grumbled, his blue eyes flickering with irritation and lips set in a thin line as he continued staring at me. He had his arms folded across his chest and cute, curly hair in an adorable disarray.

"I'm sorry, the machine has been acting up since." My voice sounded stressed as I brushed back the tendrils of hair that had escaped the loose bun my hair was in. "Can you please come check it out?"

He blinked once. "Sure."

"Thanks."

He moved over to the entrance that led behind the counter and strode over to my side. He leaned over the machine for a moment then crouched down to the plug connected to the switch.

His voice came a second later. "Darra's the one that usually deals with this thing but try turning it on now."

I did and it buzzed to life. The rich, black nice smelling, hot liquid pouring into the brown mug I had set under it. Blake was still trying to steady the plug under the table and I couldn't help but observe the contraction of his back muscles underneath his black tee.

"Thank you." I heard him grunt a reply from under, which I took as Blake being remotely friendly. I picked up the mug and the worse that could ever happen, did happen as I by some unexplainable force, I tripped on my own foot and lost a hold on the mug containing the hot liquid.

It all went down on Blake's exposed back. An unpleasant crack sounded as the heavy mug made contact with his back and the coffee spilled. The sound of the mug crashing and breaking came last.

"Fuck!" He howled, his voice resounded throughout the whole shop and for a moment, everyone was quiet and all eyes shot in my direction for some sort of explanation.

"It's fine, everything's fine," I said aloud, smiling a smile that I was positive looked forced. I bent beside Blake. "I'm so sorry, it was a mistake, honest."

"You fucking bitch," he swore, now sitting on the floor with eyes shut in silent pain. His glasses had fallen off and I picked them up and wiped it against the edge of my apron. "Why won't you leave me the fuck alone?"

That stung. I honestly felt the pain behind his words as he sat there cussing me.

I was going to apologize some more when the giant of a woman I had come to fear stepped in with us. Gladys, and she wasn't smiling. She was in her usual hairnet and had on a long, pink tunic gown underneath her white apron and her black rain boots looked like a comical addition to her whole look.

"Johnson?" She frowned at Blake on the floor as she moved closer to us, a whiff of butter hit me and I realized she had probably been baking.

Blake grunted but Gladys seemed to understand the grunt perfectly as she rounded up on me.