I never thought people really behaved this way, or if they did, I’ve never witnessed it this bad. I’m so embarrassed, I may never be able to show my face here again. After growing up in my dad’s garage, and becoming a business owner myself, I’m absolutely disgusted. How can you treat people like that?
I grimace when I see Mateo coming my way with another basket of breadsticks. “Wow.” He laughs. “You sure can pick ’em, Mila.”
“That is not my pick. That was all Mara. Somehow, she thought I would hit it off with him.”
“You mean with Mr. Sweater Shawl out there?” He gestures toward where Marcus is currently still engrossed in his phone.
“Stop. That’s not nice,” I chide him, even though I know he’s not wrong.
“Well, neither is how he ordered for you. I may be younger than you, but even I know better than to order for a woman, especially one you made wait.”
Once again, he’s not wrong.
“You’re not seriously going to eat with that guy though, are you?” He gives me a questioning look.
“I can’t exactly leave. He's already ordered. It would be rude.”
“It can’t be ruder than how he behaved,” Mateo points out. The kid may be nineteen, but he’s smarter than some people I know. “If you tell me now, I can cancel his order, and I’ll put your rigatoni vodka in to go with extra breadsticks.”
“You treat me too good, Mateo.” I laugh.
“You and your friends have always been good to me, and let’s be honest,” he whispers, “you don’t want to have dinner with a guy wearing a sweater over his shoulders.”
Damn it. I really don’t. I have to be up early to get the bakery started. I'm always the first one in, even before Mara.
“Can you hang for like, fifteen more minutes? I can get Pops to put a rush on it.”
It feels wrong to abandon Marcus, but I don’t know if I can handle him the whole night. “Maybe I’m not being fair.” The look of disbelief Mateo gives me makes me stop. “Okay, fine. You win. Give me fifteen and then I’ll meet you at the side. Give your Pops a hug for me.”
“That’s what I’m talking about. Don’t worry, Mila. I got you.” Turning, he heads back toward the kitchen to hopefully cancel Marcus’ order. I just hope it doesn’t cause his dad, Tomas, any grief.
As I continue past Mateo, I contemplate all the ways I can get back at Mara. Maybe I’ll swap her regular coffee for decaf or sign her up for a dating service. The idea of Mara getting emails and messages from random men wanting a date brings a smile to my face. Maybe a taste of her own medicine is what she needs. It’s not as fun when someone meddles in your love life.
I’m relieved to find the bathroom isempty when I step inside. The quiet space gives me a moment to breathe. Pulling my phone out, I scowl at the screen as I pull up Mara’s contact.
Me: You are dead to me.
Mars Bar: I can’t imagine why...
Me: I can think of at least three reasons, but the worst one is, he’s rude to Mateo.
Mars Bar: The other ones must not be so bad then.
Me: 1. Sweater shawl. 2. Made me change seats. 3. Ordered shellfish and a salad for me.
Mars Bar: ... I could be wrong...
Me: There is no could.
Mars Bar: And Mateo?
Me: He’s putting in my to-go order on the sly because Marcus told him to ‘run along with his order.’
Mars Bar: ... I’ll send you extra money for a tip, and I’ll call you in ten to escape.
Me: Damn right.
Feeling better about the turn of events, I scroll through some posts on the social media page for our store and engage with our customers. Ifthey’re going to take the time to give us a shout out, you better believe I’m going to respond.
