Page 84 of Working for the Mob

I didn’t wait to hear the rest of his response because I had already pushed my way through the door. I was too angry to register the wind nipping at any exposed skin. My dad shadowed me like a puppy.

“You cannot expect me to believe you are going to stayhereof all places. I mean … just look at this town.”

Miss Dunham waved to us from her butcher shop, and my dad took a sizable step away from her. Revulsion was etched across his face. I waved back with all the enthusiasm I could muster.

“These aregoodpeople, Dad.”

“I hardly believe they can be called ‘good people.”

Ugh. “Go home, Dad.”

“Not without you.”

“Then you better make yourself comfortable here. Just a heads up, there’s no hotel on this side of town.”

The line at the café had grown to the door, but people crowded inside instead of waiting out in the cold. The burning smell of the coffee maker enveloped the room. I needed to get back to work.

“Do you have my coffee ready yet?” the well-dressed lady asked before I even made it behind the counter.

“It's about to be brewed,” I said, and held up the cheese cloth.

“Thank heavens you’re back. I didn’t know what to do with no coffee,” Lucy said. She noticed the man behind my shoulder. “Hi, Dad! I didn’t know you were going to be here.”

“How have you been, Lucy?” He grimaced as though the words pained him. I didn’t want to watch anymore. I headed to the back to put a pot of water onto the stove

“Marvelous! I’ve been living the dream here in Lannington,” I overheard Lucy say.

I knew this to be the truth. She had found purpose in Lannington. A value in her life she never had before.

“Excuse me, everyone,” I called out to the café at large. “The coffee machine broke but I’ll have a pot ready in ten minutes.” (“Well, I never,” said the crone.) “Cups are on the house for the next twenty minutes so get your orders in.”

A cheer erupted across the café. Problem solved. Now I just needed to slow-drip the coffee.

“Genevieve, can we just sit down and talk?” my dad asked.

“I’m working right now.”

“You can’t possibly expect me to believe that this is yourjob.You belong in the city. With me and your mother.”

That was too much. I slammed my hand on the counter. “I’m themanagerhere, Dad.”

“And look at the job you’re doing. You broke your coffee pot and the customers are piling up.”

I wanted to strangle him. But I kept my professional face on. I grabbed the stack of orders beside Lucy and began to fill what I could: scones.

“What’s that espresso machine doing, just sitting there?” My dad’s voice cut through my concentration.

Ignore him.

“It’s broken,” Lucy said.

Traitor!

“And it’s just sitting there without doing a thing. Is that really the best use of your resources?”

“No one can read the manual,” Lucy said, unhelpfully from the register.

I’m going to have to muzzle her.

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