“No, I'll just take my half a cup of coffee and go,” he says, using a napkin to wipe the cup off before taking it from me. “Thanks for reminding me why I usually go across the street for my coffee.”
“You mean the snooty, pretentious place that sells overpriced, burnt water? Fine by me if you prefer that garbage. Probably suits you better anyway,” I say, unable to prevent myself from blurting out all my thoughts again. “No skin off my nose. Just know that people who know and appreciate a good cup of coffee come here. Hence, the long line of fine, discerning coffee connoisseurs.”
Brady just stares at me, and for a moment, I swear he's amused by me. There's a twinkle in his eye and a small smile is tugging at the corners of his mouth. I open my mouth to say something snarky to him, but then remembering that I'm supposed to be on my best behavior, close it again – which only seems to amuse him even more.
Though it pains me to admit, he's a good-looking man. Probably about six feet tall, short dark hair, blue eyes a girl can get lost in. He's athletic and trim – I can tell he works out. And the man knows how to dress. In a dark, well tailored suit and cowboy boots that probably costs more than I make in a decade, and a black Stetson hat – he looks like he just stepped out of a modeling shoot for good looking Texas men.
Oh, and that voice – I could listen to him talk all day. He's got a slow, smooth drawl that just drips off those luscious lips of his like honey. Being from California originally, I'm not used to the accent and can't help but be charmed by it still.
But then I give my head a shake and remember that he's an insufferable prick. Maybe he enjoys antagonizing baristas in his spare time, but I have no patience for it. I turn around to make the next order and come face-to-face with Danny. He's standing so close, it startles me.
“Oh, hey, Danny,” I say, smiling politely.
Danny isn't smiling. His hands are crossed in front of his chest, and I wonder how much of that little back and forth he's heard. Brady is still standing there, as if he's waiting to see me get my ass chewed out and is even more amused by it. I stare daggers at him because he's enjoying this way too much.
“Office. Now,” Danny says, his tone ice cold.
“There's a line out the door,” I say, pointing out the obvious.
My stomach flutters and there is a tightness in my chest. As I watch him head for the back, I feel myself begin to tremble and I feel the tears welling up in my eyes already. I have a feeling that this is it. That I went too far.
“I'm calling Jacob in,” Danny says. “To cover the rest of your shifts.”
“I can work, Danny –” I say.
“No, you can't, Amanda,” he says. “Listen, you don't want to have this conversation out here in front of everybody. We need to go into my office. Now.”
I look back at Misty who stops what she's doing to watch me, her face a mask of emotion. I can see her eyes shining with tears and her lower lip is trembling. She knows what's about to go down. And the people in line are also watching closely – everyone here knows I'm about to be fired.
Even Brady, that smug, arrogant bastard, knows he just cost me my job. And what pisses me off even more is that he looks like he doesn't care. He's just standing there, looking at me, that stupid little half-smile on his face. About the only upside to getting fired is that I can walk out there and slap that smug little grin off his face.
I sigh and run a hand through my hair. I don't need to go into Danny's office to know what's about to happen. I have no choice though, but to do it anyway.
I push through the doors to the back, walk into Danny's office and sit down. Right away, I try to explain and beg for my job.
“Listen, Danny, I don't know what you heard, but –”
“I heard you berate a customer, again. Amanda, you can't do that. You have to learn to control your mouth,” he says.
“I can, and I will,” I say. “But in my defense, I wasn't berating him. We were just bantering. It was all in good fun. Ask him.”
“No, it wasn't in good fun, and no you, obviously can't learn to control your mouth,” he says with a sigh. He rubs his temples and I can tell this is hard for him. “You've tied my hands here and I have no other choice, Amanda – I'm sorry but, I have to let you go. My boss got wind of what happened the other day, and they've been breathing down my neck to let you go. If they find out about this? And that I didn't fire you on the spot? I lose my job too. And I'm sorry, but I can't afford to do that.”
“I can't afford to lose my job either,” I say.
“I'm sorry,” he says. “I've given you so many second chances already. And I'm out of options, Amanda.”
“So that's it?” I ask, a yawning pit opening in my stomach. “I'm fired?”
Danny shrugs. “That's it, I'm afraid,” he says. “I wish it didn't have to be like this, but you left me with no options.”
I'm numb with shock. I need this job to pay the bills. I have rent coming up, and I can't be late on that. Not again. I'm already on thin ice with my landlord too. And without a paycheck coming in, I'm going to be totally and completely screwed.
“Please, Danny –” I say, tears streaming down my cheeks.
“No, I can't, Amanda,” he says. “I have no choice but to put my foot down. Enough is enough.”
My body trembling and my mind spinning a million miles a minute, I stand up and walk out of his office without another word, still in shock. I grab my things from my locker and clock out – still not believing I won't be coming back here tomorrow. That I won't be coming back – ever. Every time the realization that I've just been fired hits me, I feel that yawning chasm in my stomach open that much wider.
I want to go back into his office, beg and plead for my job – but I know it won't do any good. Danny's made up his mind. I know I can't be mad at him. I know I can't blame him. Deep down, I know that I only have myself to blame. If only I'd been able to control my temper. If only I'd been able to hold my tongue. If only a thousand different things – none of which matter anymore.
I can stand there and think about the what if's until I'm blue in the face. But none of those things will change the fact that I've just been fired. That I'm unemployed. That I have no idea how in the hell I'm going to pay my rent, my bills – or survive. I have no idea what in the hell I'm going to do.
As I leave the back of the shop and walk out to the front, pushing my way through the small swinging door in the counter, I wave to Misty who looks shell-shocked – like she's about to cry herself. Jacob got in fast and is already working on making drinks – and is studiously avoiding my eyes. Not that we're all that close to begin with. The fact that I'd just gotten canned – and he was taking my shifts – probably isn't even a blip on his radar.
As I head for the doors, my gaze falls on the customer who started this whole mess. Brady. I try to look away, but he's sitting by the door, watching me with a smug look on his face. I look around and roll my eyes – I have to walk past him to leave.
“You're right,” he says, catching me by surprise.
“What?” I ask, stopping in my steps. “What did you say?”
“I said you were right,” he says. “About the coffee across the street being garbage, that is. I used to think coffee was coffee, it got the job done, ya know? But this right here – this is actually really good.”
“Yeah, whatever. Good for you,” I mutter.
I turn to leave before my anger gets the best of me and I do something I'll really regret. This prick just got me fired and the last thing I want to do is stand there and chit chat with him. Screw this redneck jerk. As I move away, he puts his hand on my arm. I jerk it away and look at him with pure murder in my eyes.
Reading my reaction correctly, he puts his hands up. “Listen, I'm sorry about all this,” he says, motioning to the store around me. “At least let me buy you a drink? Let me make it up to you.”