"No." He frowned like I'd just asked him to lift something heavier than his cellphone. "I wasthinking."
Yeah, right.
Skip was tall and lanky, with dark brown hair that flopped into his eyes and a crisp white polo that had never seen a coffee stain. He was kicked all the way back like he owned the place – which, unfortunately, he did, thanks to his parents, who'd bought him the coffee shop as a college graduation gift.
Apparently, they thought that running a small business would be the perfect use of his bachelor's degree – in philosophy, no less.
Except hewasn'trunning it.
Instead, he was runningmeragged while he coasted on the fact he couldn't be fired.
And me? I couldn't quit, because I wasn't here for the money. Or at least, Ihadn'tbeen until two days ago, when I'd discovered that my roommate was in financial trouble.
But that was a problem for another time.
Right now, there was Skip.But maybe this wasn'tallbad. Maybe, for once, the universe was throwing me a bone.
I tried to look casual – normal, even – as I said, "Hey…there's kind of a situation out front."
He squinted. "What kind of situation?"
"The, uh, people kind." I waved vaguely toward the swinging door. "Lots of them. Waiting. Getting restless."
His only reply was a slow, sleepy blink.
I stepped closer, forcing a bright tone. "So I was thinking maybe you could…you know…help?"
Thatgot his attention – except now he looked annoyed. "You mean work the counter?"
Apparently, annoyance was contagious, because I couldn't stop myself from telling him, "You can't be on break forever, you know."
He shifted in his seat. "I'm not 'on break.' I'm brainstorming."
I almost rolled my eyes. "About what?"
"Management stuff."
"Fine. Then you might want to 'manage' the two guys up front. They seem…important."
Skip sighed, like I'd just asked him to donate a kidney. "Are they complaining?"
"Not yet. But theyshouldbe. They've been waiting forever. Everyone has."
He glanced toward the front. "Then what are you doing backhere?"
"Well,maybeI came looking for you."It wasn't a lie if I said maybe, right?But then, guilt got the better of me and I added a dash of truth. "Plus, I need to box up some pastries."
"So box away," he said. "I'm not stopping you."
I stared. "So…you're just gonna sit in your recliner?"
"Yup."
I waited, hoping he'd elaborate.He didn't.Instead, he leaned his head back and closed his eyes, mumbling something aboutteam morale,which was adorable, since the team was me, myself, and I.
"Fine," I repeated. "But if you don't come out eventually, you're gonna lose customers. Youdorealize that, right?"
His only reply was another sigh, a longer one, like I was demandingtwokidneys and a raise.
