And just like that, she drops her gaze back below the counter.
I knew it. She's either reading that stupid book or she's scrolling through hookup apps. Honestly, she's lucky I like her. Otherwise, I’d torch her entire bookshelf.
The man shoves the mug forward. It sloshes over the rim, hot chocolate bleeding across the counter.
Brilliant. Because obviously, I didn't clean enough today.
He's the last customer in the shop. Thank God, because we're closing in ten minutes.
“I want a new one,” he demands. “No cream this time. Think you can manage that?”
Now, if it were me, I’d just remake the damn drink while silently wishing he’d step on Lego for the rest of his life.
But this is Quinn.
She straightens slowly with a manic look on her face. Way too slowly. The kind that means I should probably go and intervene, but I don't. I kind of want to see where this goes.
Without breaking eye contact, she rounds the counter. Reaches out. Dips two fingers into the mug and scoops the whipped cream clean off the top, and then proceeds to wipe it down the front of his very expensive-looking suit.
Wow.
“There,” she says calmly. “No cream.”
Oh, Quinn. I wish we could go a day when something like this doesn't happen. But people are idiots and still come, so more fool them.
“Do you have any idea how expensive this suit is?” His voice climbs an octave.
Quinn tilts her head. “No. Are you going to tell me?”
He opens his mouth.
She lifts her hand, snapping her fingers shut in front of him. “Oh—wait. I don't care.”
“You little bitch.”
His face turns a violent shade of red like he might actually combust. Well, that's my cue.
I’m slipping between them and pushing Quinn further back.
“I’m really sorry about her.” I forced something that resembled an apologetic smile. “She's, um… She's on her period.”
The moment it leaves my mouth, I want to slam my own head into the counter. I literally told River off for saying that to me today, and here I am saying it to this idiot.
I’m a hypocrite, but it works.
The man recoils, lets out a disgusted tut, then pushes the mug off the surface. It hits the floor and smashes, shards skidding everywhere and the chocolate splashes on my shoes.
He storms out, spitting insults over his shoulder before slamming the door hard enough to rattle the glass.
Silence settles over the shop.
I just stare at the wreckage before turning to Quinn, scowling.
“Really? My period?” she remarks before I can even start.
I scoff and head to the cleaning cupboard, really wishing I could strangle her. “Well, I couldn't exactly tell him you were born feral with no filter. It was the first thing that came to mind. And for the record, you deserved every single name he called you.”
She laughs like it's funny, when sometimes it usually is, but not today.
