Page 162 of Rush of Jealousy

“What happens if your girlfriend is on a strict diet?” I tease.

His eyes narrow and then get angry. “Tell her that her body is my perfect playground and to add some extra calories to the beverage so I have more to hold on to when I fu—”

“Graham!” I shriek. My eyes dart around and grow big as I wonder who is within earshot. “I work here. Please stop.”

“Fine. Go make me my drink, woman.”

“Ugh, you’re the most difficult customer of the day.”

“Good.”

I scrunch up my nose. I am really starting to hate that word. I hit the button for “Build Your Own” and select medium—which should be plenty big even if I take a few sips. I move over to the prep station and start building the base for the drink. I add some yogurt, milk, and a variety of frozen berries. I add just enough agave nectar to sweeten it up. I blend it, dump it into a cup, and garnish it with whipped cream and a dusting of pink-hued sprinkles. It looks delicious but not something that I would expect a powerful businessman to drink. I giggle as I hand him the girliest looking drink. He looks at it with hesitation, and I just laugh harder.

“Pretty like a princess,” I coo.

“Might be the worst drink I ever bought.”

“Just try it,” I encourage.

I take his credit card and charge the five dollars and thirty-five cents.

Graham then puts his card back into his wallet and pulls out a one-hundred-dollar bill. He sips his drink and then stuffs the bill into the tip jar.

My eyes watch him speculatively. “That seems excessive.”

“So does your flirting.”

“Flirting?” I prop my hands on my hips. “With whom?”

“Smoothie King behind you.”

“I was being friendly.”

“Too friendly.”

“You are comical sometimes. I’m working. Let me work.”

“When’s your next break?”

“Tomorrow on my next shift.”

“You’re being overworked then to not have another break. Are you part of a union?”

“I’m being treated fairly, and I’d like that to continue while I’m here. Don’t ruin this for me. Please.”

Graham frowns. “I want to share this with you. When do you get off work?”

“In an hour.”

“Awesome.” He glances at his watch, while he takes another sip of his drink. “I have an hour to kill.”

Of course he does. He moves over to the bar area and sets up his laptop from the bag I didn’t even realize he was carrying.

I take a little card from behind the register and slap it down on the counter beside him. “There’s the Wi-Fi password.”

His smile grows at my unease. “Thanks, baby.” He acts like nothing is at all weird about this situation. Ugh.

I do my best to ignore Graham and remain focused on waiting on customers and making drinks. It helps that Mondays are busy days at the shop and staying busy helps the time go by faster. When my shift ends, I use the restroom and change back into my normal shirt. I wrap my arms around Graham’s stomach and rest my head along his back.

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