Page 122 of Average Joe

“Not used to seeing you in the afternoon. In casual attire. Looks good on you,” I threw in because he gave a hostile vibe, and I was trying to make nice.

The man clenched his jaw, staring straight through me. “Not used to seeing you in the afternoon.”

Yeah, I needed to wrap this transaction up, and fast. “The usual?”

“Why wouldn’t I order my usual?”

My skin prickled. “Right, sure.” He’d thrown me off my game, and I was always on my game.

I turned to grab the soy milk from the fridge, the shake in my hands unnerving.

Lilly stood out of sight, her eyes going wide, silently asking, “What the fuck?”

“I know, right?” I whispered back, then finished making his drink.

When I turned again to face the man, he wore a grin that reminded me too much of Charles Manson. Or maybe that was my overtired imagination. Regardless, I forced a smile and said, “This one’s on the house. Have a great day,” before slamming shut the window.

“That was weird, right?” I asked Lilly, palms to my hot cheeks.

“That was creepy as heck.”

We shared a simultaneous shiver, the spine-chill factor dialed too damn high for my liking.

Without a second thought, I declared, “No more working alone for a shift. From now on, we’re doubled up, always.” Normally, I’d dismiss the weird vibes as being overtired and overstressed, but there was no ignoring the warning bells ding-donging in my head.

Lilly turned to face me, arms crossed, hip rested against the counter. “That will not make the girls happy. Tips are everything in this line of work.”

She was right. On a good day, my baristas could earn a grand, give or take, and on a bad day, they rarely collected less than two hundred.

It wouldn’t be fair to cut their daily income by half. I’d lose my employees to our competitors.

But how could I ensure their safety? Between Harper’s threats and now Prius Guy’s one-eighty, my guts were knotted and my head was a mess. Something had to change.

The rest of the day passed without incident, thank the good Lord. My heart couldn’t take another hit. My mind was on Dylan, and while I trusted he was in good hands, the ache in my chest would forever linger, as was the curse of all parents, I suspected.

And Joe? He’d earned bonus points by freeing my son from Harper’s clutches, but he’d crossed a line planning Dylan’s move to another state without talking to me about it first. I was torn between adoration and indignation.

Staying busy helped stifle my erratic mood. So, during lulls, I deep cleaned, reworked the schedules, and planned a company meeting.

When it came time to visit the Georgetown stand, I retrieved my pepper spray and set it on the counter. “I’ll try to be back before closing. If I’m late, I want this in your hand to and from your car. Got me?”

Lilly looked at the little can, then me, her grin spreading. “Seriously?”

“Yes. I’m going to stock both stands. Pepper spray. Maybe stun guns, too.”

Lilly dropped her arms to her sides, her face going stone-cold serious. “Boss. I carry a gun. Most of the girls carry guns.”

My heart dropped to my gut and bounced around. “What?”

“We didn’t say anything because we know how you feel about them.”

“You’re licensed?”

“Of course. Marcus and I hit the gun range at least once a week.”

“Lilly! How did I not know about this?”

She pointed a finger in my direction. “Because of that look on your face right now.”

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