Page 30 of Cream & Sugar
I turn my head and throw my voice down the hall, so I’m sure Rory can hear it.
“You know Mum liked my guitar playing. She said I should keep it up no matter what, but I guess what she wanted doesn’t matter to you!”
Before he can respond, or hulk out, I slam my bedroom door shut and turn the lock. Fizzing, I drop to the floor and wait for my heart to stop hammering.
Instantly, I’m filled with regret. If Rory hated me before, now it’s tenfold. I’m only surprised he isn’t already ripping through my bedroom door with his bare hands to throttle me.
I thought using Mum against him would give me the upper hand in the argument. Now, I feel like human bile. Rory’s done the same thing to me dozens of times, not that that makes it okay. Is it worse that I did it anyway, knowing how much it hurts?
Immediately I want to go back and apologise, but there’s every chance that’ll make things worse. Best to give him space; it’s the only guarantee I have of not pissing him off further.
I groan into my hands. Today was going so well.
Fuck my life.
10
Shaun
Forthefirsttimein months, I have nowhere to be, which, of course, means I haven’t been able to sit still for more than a minute without feeling like I’ve got ants in my pants.
Just this morning, I’ve cleaned the flat from top to bottom, bought groceries, trimmed my beard, watered my dying houseplants, and updated the cafe's social media pages. I even tried to do a 5k run, which quickly turned into a 1k waddle when I felt like I was going to cough up a lung. It seems unfair to be so blisteringly unfit when I’m on my feet at least twelve hours most days. I miss when I'd eat a 5k run for breakfast, instead of stuffing my face with cake and old brownies.
Now, it’s not even lunchtime and I’ve run out of things to do. Nothing for it but to make another coffee, my third today.
I make my way into the kitchen where the espresso machine my parents bought me as a flat-warming present sits on the countertop, its chrome exterior glinting in the morning light. I’m not a fan of clutter. Usually I like to keep appliances out of sight, tucked away in their own designated cupboard space, but my coffee machine is placed front and centre like a trophy. Without it, I wouldn’t have survived this last month.
I pop open a bag of dark Colombian roast, inhaling the rich, cocoa scent that fills the air as I get to work making a double espresso. Something soft tickles my calf and I glance down to see Jester, his ginger tail dancing expectantly. While the coffee pours, I take a tin of cat food from the fridge and scoop it into Jester’s bowl, trying not to breathe in the fishy smell as I set it down on the kitchen floor. Jester meows gratefully and begins devouring his lunch, pointing his arsehole straight at me like the shameless pervert he is.
“Cheers,” I say, raising my tiny espresso cup and taking a sip.
Mmm.I smack my lips. Sweet liquid life.
It’s almost eleven. Freddie will be starting his shift soon. Thinking about him makes a bubble of guilt grow in my gut. He looked like a wounded animal when I left him on the kerb by his house yesterday. I thought about that all the way home. And all last night. Most of this morning too. Maybe I was too harsh on him? It can be intimidating starting any new job; maybe all the flirting was just his way of breaking the ice?
Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything?
No,a cold logical voice grabs the mic in my head. I’m his manager. It’s my job to tell him if his behaviour is inappropriate, which it was. Although he clearly didn’t mean anything by it, it certainly had an effect on me. I should have said something sooner, but I was surprised. Surprised by his confidence. Surprised that he was a guy who was flirting with me, and that it felt great. I haven’t been complimented like that in, well… I can’t even remember.
Some distance from the situation has helped me see things more clearly. Nerves. I’m sure that’s all it was. I was feeling nervous inducting a new staff member and got overwhelmed and wasn’t thinking clearly. It has to be that. There’s just no plausible way I’m actually attracted to him.
I down my coffee and stick the cup in the dishwasher. Then, I grab my laptop and throw myself down on the sofa to do some admin. I put Freddie on the payroll system, then type up his contract and attach it to an email. As I hit send, I’m suddenly filled with panic that the way I shut him down yesterday might have made him think twice about working for me. I’d certainly question coming back if my boss had spoken to me like that. It’s 11:30. He should be on shift by now. Maybe I should call the café and check if he showed?
I give myself a shake. If he didn’t turn up, Anna would have messaged me. I think. And if he did, she’ll eviscerate me for calling on my day off.
I’m sure it’s fine. Ihopeit’s fine.
Freddie’s handsome face appears in my mind’s eye, his dazzling smile seared into my brain. Gosh, I’d never forgive myself if I scared him off after his first shift. Despite everything, yesterday was the best day at work I’ve had in ages. He brought such a fresh energy to the place. All that charisma…
I’m not crazy, am I? He really isthatcharming! And not just because he’s so devastatingly good-looking.
I open the spreadsheet I use to track stock and start making a list of items I need to order.
It’s fine if I find him handsome, right? It doesn’t mean anything, except that I have eyes! Several customers did a double-take when they spotted him yesterday, so clearly I’m not the only one who thinks so. Respectfully, I’m allowed tolook. It’s not like anything’s ever going to happen.I’m his boss!
And I’m straight! That too, of course.
I check over the inventory and realise I’ve ordered ten kilos of glace cherries instead of ten tubs. Quickly, I fix the error, annoyed at myself for making a blunder. My head’s too full of Freddie to concentrate.
