I tapped my phone to the card reader and shoved it back into my pocket before moving to the end of the counter to wait for my coffee.
As I did, my gaze snagged on a beautiful blonde that was idly braiding her hair into Dutch braids two tables away.
She was doing it so effortlessly that I couldn’t stop staring.
Her gaze moved up to catch mine, and I felt the breath leave my throat for a solid second.
Her eyes were a startling green.
Like an emerald, or that Coke bottle green color that I saw on the Dos Equis beer bottles that Dima, my brother, liked to drink.
I was so focused on her that I didn’t hear my name be called for my coffee.
The impatient barista called my name a second time, I assumed, and I had to force my gaze away from the blonde.
“Thank you,” I said, taking the coffee that I didn’t tip for.
I probably should have, but I didn’t like the barista.
She was a bitch to everyone, and I couldn’t stand her.
Whenever she was working, I made sure not to tip.
She didn’t bother replying, and instead turned to the next drink order.
I took a drink of the coffee and was unsurprised to find it lukewarm.
Normally I would’ve said something—there were times that I felt like she purposefully served me shitty coffee because I didn’t tip—but the door burst open and a group of men poured in through the door.
All of them were wearing a white shirt that said ‘Sweat Construction’ on it.
All of them were covered in dirt and concrete, and of course, they headed for the blonde at the table.
“What the fuck happened, Brecken?”
“Shh,” Brecken, the blonde, whispered. “Be quiet, y’all. Don’t create a scene.”
I took another sip of my coffee and decided that I would be saying something about my coffee.
I’d also be taking a seat so I could hear “what the fuck happened.”
I turned to the barista at the counter and said, “This is cold, ma’am.”
I made sure to be extra nice despite her lack of professionalism.
The barista shot me a look that said she clearly didn’t care.
I narrowed my eyes and said, “I’d like some hot coffee, please.”
“Sorry, no refunds.” She smiled sweetly.
It showed off the metal stud that she had between her front teeth.
“One more chance.” I held it out to her.
She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest.
“Maybe you should go get me your manager,” I suggested.