Page 55 of Bratva Knight

It was now 3 p.m., and we’d both just finished for the day. The staff room was overrun with chatter as the workers coming in to start the afternoon shift changed into their uniforms. Lockers slammed open and shut. Shoes squeaked across the floor. Greetings and farewells were exchanged. It was all a bit too much, really, like a sensory overload.

“Even though it was just a trial run, I can pretty much guarantee you’ve got the job. You’re hard working and a fast learner; two qualities I always look for in staff.”

An anxious weight that had been smothering me all day lifted off my chest. I didn’t want to have to look for another job. This one was perfect. In walking distance from campus, nice co-workers and pleasant atmosphere. Shitty customers excluded.

“Thank you.”

“I can offer you three shifts a week to start off with, and then we’ll see where we go from there?” She began to undress, taking off her work shirt and skirt.

“Sounds good. I don’t have my class schedule yet, but once I do I’ll let you know my days.”

“Perfect.” She slipped into a pair of skinny jeans and a tank top. “Aren’t you going to get changed? If you’re shy, there’s a rest room just through there.”

I was the furthest thing from shy. “Honest opinion, how do I look right now?”

She let her hair down and ran her fingers through it, shaking it out. “You sure you want an honest opinion? I’ve been told I can be pretty blunt.”

“Give it to me.”

“You look like a dog's breakfast. Your hair is a frizzy mess. Your make-up is smudged. You’ve got flour on your face, which absolutely baffles me because you didn’t cook a damn thing today. So how did it get there? And your clothes are covered in food stains.”

I laughed, shaking my head in amusement at her words. “Perfect.”

Nikolai found the idea of me getting a job laughable. Yes, he told me he was proud of me, that he believed in me. But I knew what he was thinking, what he’d never voice. He didn’t think I could actually do it and stick with it. I wanted him to see me after a hard day's work with nothing but a smile on my face.

Belinda frowned, opening her mouth to respond, but she was interrupted by a man with short, teal blue hair bursting into the staff room.

“Come quick,” he panted heavily. “Level five McHottie at the front counter.”

“Level five?” Belinda scoffed. “There’s never been a level five here before.”

“Well, now there is,” he insisted. His eyes flicked to me. “Hey, new girl.”

“This is Darren,” Belinda introduced, flowing to her feet. “He’s the afternoon manager.”

“Introductions later! Youhaveto come check this guy out before he leaves. I damn near fainted, coming through the door.”

Belinda rolled her eyes. “You’re exaggerating. Level fives never come in this shithole. Level four, maybe. But not—oh my god.” Her eyes widened as she peeked through the small gap of the staff room door, staring out into the shop. “Heisa Level five.”

“Okay, is someone going to fill me in here?” I asked, watching them both salivate over this mystery man sitting in the café.

“A Level five is the hottest a person can be on our scale,” Belinda said, not even looking back at me. “To be a Level five, he’s got to be tall—”

“Dark-haired—” Darren continued.

“Muscly—” Belinda cut back in.

“Have that dangerous, bad boy vibe—”

“Gorgeous eyes—”

“Classic book boyfriend,” Darren finished.

They ping-ponged back and forth between each other like they were each reading a line from a list only they knew.

“Yes! Perfect description. Oh, shit. Here comes Desiree. You better get out there and shoot your shot before she gets her sticky paws all over him,” Belinda said, nudging Darren with her elbow.

“We don’t even know if he’s gay.” He began to fix his hair anyway, preparing himself.

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