The Art of Losing(61)

Chapter Fifteen



After a few weeks at The Flakey Pastry, I finally felt like I was getting the hang of making espresso drinks. I could steam milk while brewing shots, making several drinks at a time, and I had a couple of customers who claimed they now liked my shots of espresso better than Will’s. I tried not to gloat.

So maybe it was karma (or maybe I was just getting too cocky) when I turned around too quickly and knocked the metal pitcher of steaming milk to the floor, burning my arm on the steam wand. And then my fingers, when I stupidly tried to push it away without a rag. My skin was red and blistered in seconds.

Will and Cassidy jumped into action. Cassidy took over making my drinks while Will took me into the break room to get cleaned up.

“This happens so often that most of the first aid kit is filled with burn cream,” he said.

He sat me in a chair and started applying cream to my arm. I winced with pain.

“Do you just get used to getting burned?” I asked.

Will laughed. “I haven’t felt my fingertips in a year.”

“Oh, good, something to look forward to.”

“Listen, Cassidy and I can probably close up on our own if you want to leave?” he said. “When do you work next?”

I shook my head. “I think I’m closing on Monday?”

Will squinted. “No, I don’t think so. Cassidy and I work closing on Monday.”

He reached back and grabbed the schedule off the desk behind him. We studied it together. He was right. I was working opening on Monday, and he and Cassidy were closing. In fact, they were working the same shifts all week.

“You and Cassidy recently started working together a lot,” I said, trying to keep my voice casual.

Will nodded, his eyes on the bandage he was placing on my arm.

“And you make the schedule?”

Now he looked at me. “What are you getting at?”

“Why did you and Janine break up?”

He sat back, suddenly suspicious. “Because she was leaving for college. Why?”

“Not for another few weeks,” I pointed out. “Why did you break up now?”

Will didn’t answer.

“I know, it’s none of my business, but if it’s because of a certain blonde who, frankly, isn’t that great of a barista, you don’t have to be worried about asking her out.”

Will’s lips twitched into a smile. “Are you saying Cassidy likes me?”

I rolled my eyes. “Of course she does. Why haven’t you just asked her out?”

He shook his head sadly. “I can’t be her manager if I’m dating her. Not after Janine. Samir threatened to fire me after she quit.”

“It was that bad?” I asked.

“She knew why I was breaking up with her. We couldn’t work together afterward. And she wouldn’t work with Cassidy, either. And there aren’t enough employees to keep us all on different schedules.”

“So why do you always schedule Cassidy for the worst shifts?”

“Like what?” he said defensively.

“Like closing almost every night. And Sunday opening shifts?” His cheeks flushed so red that I almost expected his glasses to fog. “Oh, it’s deliberate!” I exclaimed.

“Yeah, well, she can’t date someone else if she’s here almost every night and has to work at six a.m. on Sundays, right?”

I shook my head in disbelief. “Wow. You really just said that out loud.”

“I’m horrible, I know,” he said sadly. “She should hate me.”

“No, but you should stop trying to keep her locked away and just deal with the consequences of dating. Even if it means one of you has to quit.” I flashed a sly smile. “Or you have to hide it from Samir.”

He sighed, his shoulders slumping. “I know, I know. I’ll talk to her.”

“Just be careful with her, okay?” I said. “Cassidy is as tender as they come. But I am not. If you break her heart, I will kill you.”

Will nodded, his expression solemn. “I promise,” he said. “Now, why don’t you leave early?”

I smiled, not sure if he was getting rid of me because I was being weird and overly protective or so he could be alone with Cassidy. Maybe both.

“Sure, boss,” I said, heading out. “Good luck.”

I pushed the door open and nearly hit Ryan in the back.

“Sorry, Ry!” I said, laughing. But my smile fell when he turned and I saw his face. “What’s up?”

He gestured to a table nearby. His brown eyes were bloodshot, his forehead creased. For a second I worried that something had happened to Connie, his girlfriend. I sat down across from him.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“Mike came home from rehab yesterday,” he said, slumping forward. “He called me this morning to invite me to a party.”

My jaw dropped. “He’s having a ‘Welcome Home from Rehab’ party?”

Ryan nodded and pounded his fist into his palm. “What the hell is wrong with him?”

“I don’t suppose this is a dry party,” I said, half to myself.

His lips twisted in disgust. “He asked me to use my brother’s ID to get him some beer and a few bottles of liquor. He wants me to sneak it to him so his mom doesn’t find out.”