"I'm tired as hell, Ivy. Like... corpse-level tired. This was supposed to be my last order. But noooo, my perv of a manager just had to keep me back like I’m his personal servant."
I mumbled it while wiping a sticky espresso stain off the counter for the third time tonight. My wrists ached, my back was screaming and my patience was thinner than my paycheck. REALLY.
Ivy my partner in suffering laughed from the other side of the bar who is a waitress like me but a bit favored by my manager is sipping a flat soda like it was champagne. "Girl, just quit already. Let’s start that OnlyFans bakery we talked about."
"If I see one more customer tonight I swear to God I’m putting bleach in the espresso." I groaned and she just well laughed.
And just like clockwork the door jingled.
I didn't even look up. I just huff. "No. Nope. I’m off the clock, I swear on Beyoncé’s wig."
Then Jason’s voice slithered into my ear like something I wish I could exorcise. “Avelin, do one more. Just this one. Important client. VIP. Real classy.”
I turned slowly and looked at him murderously. “Classy? In The Rusty Mug? The only VIPs we get are drunk hags who tip in gum wrappers.”
Jason smirked like he knew he was untouchable. Daddy owned the place which meant he walked around like he ran Wall Street even though he couldn’t spell ‘espresso’ without looking at the machine.
“It’s one guy. Go.”
I flipped him off with my soul grabbed the rag and stalked toward the counter.
That’s when I saw him.
Leaning against the far end like he didn’t belong here—because he absolutely didn’t. Charcoal suit. Watch that probably cost more than my student debt. Hair slicked back, face sharp, eyes... cold. Real cold. The kind of cold that isn’t empty—it’s dangerous.
I stopped a few feet from him and stared.
“What’ll it be?” I asked, rubbing my temple. “And if it’s a $15 frappuccino with soy unicorn milk, I’m walking out.”
“Double espresso.” Deep voice. No hesitation.
I raised an eyebrow. “No sugar?”
He blinked once. “I said double. Not dessert.”
Okay. That kind of night.
I turned to the machine. “People really drink espresso at midnight. You guys don’t sleep or what? Is it like a, rich thing?”
No answer. But I felt that stare. Burning into my back like heat from a cigarette.
“Staring’s extra” I muttered over my shoulder slapping the portafilter into place.
He didn’t flinch. Didn’t smile either. Just stood there like a statue carved out of menace.
I slid the cup in front of him a minute later. “Enjoy your overpriced insomnia shot.”
He picked it up and took a slow sip. “Strong.”
I leaned on the counter with boredom. “Like my patience. Which you’re currently testing.”
That got himHumor? Amusement? Hell if I know. But his grey eye's sure shined.
“You always this charming?” he asked.
“Only on nights when I haven’t slept, eaten or punched someone.”
“Sounds dangerous.”
“You don’t even know the half of it.”
His lips twitched with something close to a smile. And then, just as I turned to walk away, he called out to me.
“What’s your name?”
I paused burrow my brows and turn to him “Depends. Are you planning to tip or sue?”
“Neither. Just curious.”
“Curiosity kill's the cat.”
He leaned forward slightly and took the sip from his espresso. “But satisfaction brought it back.”
The look he gave me? I felt it in my spine. In the part of me that knows better but never listens.
I walked away before I could say something stupid. Ivy caught my arm as I passed her.
“Who the hell is that?” she whispered.
“No clue” I said. “But I think he just flirted with me in mafia code.”
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