Page 21 of Daily Grind
He only had time to scan the pile before another swell of soaked customers poured into the shop, then it was a blur of lattes and mochas and macchiatos. Soy, skim, regular. Flavors. He moved and hummed and created them all. Even got some reasonable tips in the jar, too. Those would go to his baristas, later.
With customers taken care of, he took a closer look at the mail. Junk, a supply catalog for things he didn’t need at the moment, and a bill from his coffee wholesaler. He opened that and scanned the invoice. Nothing he wasn’t expecting—however, there was a second paper in the envelope. He read it and his stomach dropped.
He knew prices were bound to rise sooner or later. But this was more than he’d expected.Shit. He ran a quick calculation in his head.Fuck. He could absorb it for the time being, but man, that was going to make things tight. Especially with several baristas being due for raises—that hewould notdeny them.
Outside, the rain and wind picked up and Brian watched people scramble down the street holding on to their umbrellas. So much for his smooth day. He slipped the papers back in the envelope and took the mail into the back room.
He grabbed his laptop to send out an e-mail about the schedule and print a copy to post on the employee bulletin board. Some clicks and taps later and that was done. After he pinned the schedule up, he grabbed a mop and the “Slippery When Wet” sign—too many wet shoes on the wood floor. Didn’t want anyone falling.
Couldn’t afford it.
It took a few minutes to clean up the water and set the sign, but in that time, he already had an e-mail from Vance, one of his baristas. Brian’s stomach lurched.Problems come in threes, wasn’t that the adage?
Vance was a decent guy, but he’d been late to his shift one too many times the past few weeks and that had required a conversation. He’dtriedto keep it light andthoughtthey were okay, especially since Vance had sent in his preferred hours. Brian clicked open the e-mail.
Hi Brian,
I’ve been thinking about this for a couple of days now. I know I’ve been late a few times and yeah you’re right that I shouldn’t be. But I don’t like being yelled at.
He hadn’t yelled, had he? Brian chewed on his tongue, a chill creeping up his spine. Maybe he had raised his voice? Couldn’t remember the details now.
To be honest, working in the shop isn’t fun anymore. Too tense and serious. I miss the old days. I think it would be better if I found a job more suited to me, so please take me off the schedule. I’m not going to be working at Grounds N’at again.
Thanks,
Vance
Brian stared at the screen. It was only after he chewed a piece of his nail off that he realized he’d been biting his thumb.
Holy shit. This wasn’t good. Vance was a pretty laid-back guy. The doorbell rang. More customers. More wet shoes. Brian closed the laptop and tried to push the gnawing fear aside. Tried to stop his hands from trembling.
He managed to smile and joke and make the perfect drinks. But by the time he was done, he wanted to throw up.
Filling in Vance’s shifts would have him at the shop twelve hours, four days a week. That free Sunday he’d been so happy about? Likely his last for a long,longtime.
He sat down at the laptop and opened it. With shaking hands, he typed out an e-mail of his own, this one to Miranda.
Hey Mir,
I need you to be honest. Have I been hard to work with lately?
He didn’t expect a reply, but one appeared maybe a minute later.
Honestly? Yeah, you have. You’re tense and cranky most of the time.
Why? What happened?
That woman could read him like a book.
Vance quit. I didn’t realize my mood was getting to everyone.
Well, fuck. I’m sorry, Bri. But yeah, your mood—at least with us—has been shit. We’re working hard too. And we’re sorry we’re not Justin White.
Shit. Shit. Yeah, he had been beating that drum a bit hard.
Crap. I didn’t realize how bad I was getting. I’ll try to leave the worries at home.
You’re never home. That’s part of the problem.
