Turbulent Intentions

Page 25

Their conversation got interrupted when customers began appearing. The sound of the espresso machine steaming milk and the sudden rush of patrons effectively put an end to the discussion, and the two women found themselves constantly busy.

The day continued, and it seemed that due to delayed flights, the flow of passengers would never end. Stormy was serving coffee after coffee, mocha after mocha, and it felt like two o’clock couldn’t come soon enough.

Just as the last customer in line was being served and Stormy began cleaning up, a familiar voice was heard over the sound of running water.

“Stormy, we’re slammed with these delayed flights, we need you to stay until nine.” It was Henry.

“I have to go home early. I have an appointment.”

Stormy’s initial reaction was frustration with the thought of the day’s drudgery lasting even longer. No sooner did her heart sink with disappointment, though, than it dawned on her that she might just have a chance to get a glimpse of Cooper again if she were there. Before she could change her mind though, Henry spoke.

“You can leave,” he said with a snap. “But then leave your badge and uniform.” He turned and walked away, assuming she was going to do what he wanted.

His actions made her want to quit right there on the spot. He didn’t have the right to tell her she must work a double or get the heck out of there. Damn, it would be nice when the day came that she could tell this man to shove his job where the sun didn’t shine.

The rest of the day really did pass in a blur, though, and she even found herself jotting out a new ring design on a napkin during her lunch break, but even so Stormy was soon dead on her feet. When it was coming close to closing time, a particularly nasty passenger who had missed his flight came into the place.

“Give me a triple shot mocha and make it hot.”

“Would you like room for cream?” she asked, barely even able to stand at this point, let alone smile.

“Did I ask for cream?” he snapped.

“No, sir,” she responded through gritted teeth.

“Then just do your menial job and make my damn coffee,” he said, looking down at his phone and furiously typing something on the screen.

Though it took all of Stormy’s final bits of patience, she made the coffee and pushed it across the counter toward the man. He picked it up and then felt the steaming cup for a moment before setting it back down and ripping off the lid.

“Does this feel hot to you?” he yelled, making her jump.

“I’m sorry if it isn’t hot enough. I can steam it more,” she said, though steam was pouring off the drink.

“Feel it,” he demanded and reached for her hand.

That was Stormy’s breaking point. Ripping her arm back before the man could touch her, she accidently hit the cup and knocked it on its side, the hot liquid splashing all over her angry customer.

“What the hell!” he screeched, jumping back.

“Seems pretty hot,” Stormy muttered before she thought that might not be the best thing to say.

“I want your manager right now,” he hollered.

If Stormy had the energy to care, she might have realized the mess she was in. But as Henry came out, profusely apologizing to the man, then stepping in and remaking his drink for free and giving him just about anything he wanted, she simply stood there and waited.

When he was finished, Stormy stood back and began taking off her apron. It didn’t matter if the incident wasn’t her fault, didn’t matter if the customer wasn’t always right. Henry wouldn’t see it that way.

When the man exited their business she turned and looked at Henry, who was glowering at her.

“I know, I know,” she said, too tired to even care. “I’m fired.”

Henry seemed a bit disappointed he hadn’t been able to say the words. But he didn’t stop her from handing over her badge, keys, and apron.

So much for this day being the best one possible.

Refusing to let it get her down too badly, she turned and walked away from the job that hadn’t been her best one ever, but hadn’t been the worst either. Now, she had to hit the streets all over again.

At least she was too damn tired to care.

When her phone rang as she left the terminal, she considered throwing it beneath one of the many busses passing by, but then a smile lifted her lips when she saw who it was.

“Miracles do happen. The too-busy-to-ever-call-her-best-friend woman is answering her phone,” Lindsey grumbled with zero greeting.

Stormy laughed.

“I’ve been in a funk lately and not fit to socialize with anyone,” Stormy said by way of apology.

“I’m not just anyone. I’m your bestie, so no matter how bad the funk, you always, and I mean always, talk to me,” Lindsey insisted.

“I know. How’s the move going?”

“It’s heaven,” Lindsey said, but Stormy could hear something in her voice.

“What is it?” Stormy demanded.

“Mike’s place is tiny. I mean tiny with a capital T . . . or should I say small T. I don’t know why I agreed to this.”

“Because you love him,” Stormy pointed out.

“Yes, I guess . . .”

“Okay, we need to get together soon. You’re worrying me, Lins,” Stormy said.

“I’m good. I promise. Now, let’s talk about you,” Lindsey insisted.

Stormy chatted with her best friend while she rode the bus home. She didn’t tell her she was being kicked from her apartment because that would upset her and she would insist on Stormy coming to her place. There was no way Stormy was going to share a postage-size apartment with the two new lovers.

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