Page 10 of Daily Grind
Seemed he’d made an impression after all.
Determined strides brought Brian to Rob’s table. “You came back.”
“I said I would.” Rob waved a hand at the other seat. “If you’re not busy.”
He pulled it out and sat. “I am, but I can take a breather.”
For him.The words weren’t there, but they hung in the air. Rob smiled across his latte. “You were right about Silk Elephant. Plenty to nibble.” He took a sip.
That earned him a blush from Brian. “Were you satisfied?”
“Mostly.” The coffee was warm and smooth in Rob’s mouth. No whipped cream to play with, though. “I would’ve enjoyed company.”
A calculating look from Brian. “There are other days to the week besides Saturday, you know.”
“True. But I’m a workaholic, as well.” He put the cup down. “Were you free any of them, anyway?”
That wince spoke volumes.
“I’m guessing you’re interviewing to fix that?” Rob took another swallow of coffee.
Brian ran a hand through his hair and leaned back in his chair. “Trying to, anyway.”
“That kid not the right person?”
“That kid is a kid.”
“So?” Kids. Coffee shop. Rob didn’t see the issue at all.
“I need someone for weekends and mornings. Most college students have classes during the hours I’d want them here during the week—and they want their weekends free.”
That made sense. Of course there would be scheduling conflicts in a business like this. “So why interview him?”
“Because they oftensaythey can work those hours in e-mail—then let me know they can’t during the interview.” He huffed a laugh. “I need an older grad student or someone who wants a part-time job. But grad students have a tendency to be busy and…” He shook his head. “It’s been rough, finding the right people.”
“You have some good staff already.” He gestured at the barista behind the counter.
Brian gave the man a nod. “Mark’s great, but he usually can’t work weekends. He’s doing me a favor so I could interview. I should take over so he can go home to his kids.”
Mark watched them from the counter, and his smile was interesting. So was the way his gaze flicked between the two of them.
Someone had put one and one together.
“He makes a mean latte,” Rob said, letting his gaze linger on Mark, before focusing on Brian.
Brian eyed him, a nervousness pouring tension back into his frame. “Better than my spicy mocha?”
“No.” A simple answer.
Brian took a breath. “Your latte’s almost gone.”
Rob deliberately drank the rest before setting the cup down. “I guess I’ll have to order something from you, won’t I?”
Brian swallowed, and rose. “I guess you will.”
He stood and they both headed to the counter. Rob stuck his cup in the dirty dish bin. Brian ducked behind and conversed while Mark untied his apron. A hit of red touched Brian’s cheeks when Mark chuckled and said something Rob couldn’t catch in a low, deep voice.
On the way out from behind the counter, Mark clapped Rob on the shoulder once—then he headed for the door.
