Yesterday I went for that jog with Naomi and nearly puked my guts out on the track. I think the bran muffin I ate for dessert on Saturday night had gone bad. It had been in my refrigerator for over a week and it tasted funny. I felt better after Naomi and I ate breakfast later.

Now it’s Monday, and the snow has pretty much melted, and it’s in the fifties. By the end of the week, it’s supposed to be in the sixties. I just love soaking up the warm spring sun and smelling the fresh air. I don’t have a lot of time to be outside, so I just enjoy as much as I can while quickly crossing the long parking lot at school. Soon, everything is going to be getting green again, and I can’t wait. When I arrive at work, I’m not early, but I’m not late either. Things are a bit stressful because we’re short staffed today, but we seem to manage.

“Why isn’t Sam here today?” I ask Rex in passing.

He appears agitated. “She needed to take the day off.”

I shrug and just keep on working, figuring he must be slightly agitated that he’s short staffed.

I work until closing, head home, and go to bed to start it all over again.

Day in and day out, the week goes by pretty quickly until on Thursday I find a letter in my mailbox from my insurance company, asking me to call because there has been an accident reported. Apparently, the deal with Jeremy was off when he didn’t get what he wanted.

“Whatever, douche,” I say, leaving the notice on my kitchen table. In hindsight, I should’ve just filed the claim with insurance instead of entertaining his silly idea. Whoever heard of a guy that would accept three dates without sex as payment for damages to his car?

When I arrive at work, I hurry in. We’re short on staff again only this time we’re really busy. When there’s a reprieve, I say to Rex, “So I guess it’s getting warmer out and everyone’s got spring fever.” I pass him behind the counter on my way to grabbing a cheese torte for the customer at the register.

“Huh,” he says.

I look at him and decide to be a little more direct. “I guess Rita must have gotten a case of spring fever.”

“Oh.” He chuckles nonchalantly and walks the coffee he was filling to one of the customers.

While taking an order, I see Jeremy out of the corner of my eye. He can’t be a customer because he’s coming from the back and is walking with Steve, the owner, through the dining area. I try not to look but can’t help staring at the two while preparing a latte.

They’re now in the parking lot, and Jeremy is shaking his finger under Steve’s nose. I look around to see if anyone else is watching. Rex is busy bussing tables and looks as if he’s paying no attention to them.

Steve’s arms start waving frantically in the air.

I set the latte on the counter and walk to the pastry case for the customer’s muffin.

Now, the two are practically nose to nose.

I ring the sale, and Steve comes back into the café without Jeremy. I watch him as he walks by, but he won’t look at me. His eyes remain trained on the floor.

“Thank you,” I say, smiling at the customer.

She slips a dollar into the tip jar next to the register.

Jeremy’s red BMW backs out of the parking spaces. I squint, looking for the mark I left on his car. It’s gone. His tires let out a screech as he races onto the street. Now that he’s out of sight, I ring up the next customer.

Rex comes out after the counter is clear.

“Do you know what’s going on between Jeremy and Steve?” I ask.

“Unfortunately, I do.” He sighs.

“Well, what was that all about?”

He looks at me, jaw clenched.

I raise my eyebrows.

“I probably shouldn’t tell you, but Jeremy loaned Steve a bunch of money, and Steve has gambled it away.”

“What?”

“Yeah,” he whispers and moves closer. “The money was supposed to be used to float this place, but Steve burned it all at the casinos.”

I look at him, wide eyed. My hand covers my mouth.

“Exactly,” he says with an affirming nod. “So you might want to think about finding somewhere else to work. I don’t see this place staying open for long.”

I drop my hand from my mouth, and my head falls forward. “It’s that bad?”

“It’s that bad.”

At that very moment, I start cramping. “I’ll be right back.” I dart off to the bathroom and check my panties. There’s no blood, but at least I’m feeling something. I should’ve seen my monthly friend a week and a half ago, but I’ve been under a lot of stress. I’m sure my period is just delayed from that.

I finish my shift and go get my things before leaving. As far as I can tell, Steve hasn’t left the office. When I come out of the locker room, finally, the office door is cracked open.

* * *

Tap tap tap. I knock lightly on the doorjamb.

“Yeah,” Steve says.

I push the door open just enough so I can see in. There are papers everywhere, and every cabinet and drawer is open. Steve’s frantically shuffling through everything as if he’s looking for something that he can’t find.

I step one foot into the office. “Is everything okay?” I know full well it isn’t.

“It’s fine.” He continues rummaging like I’m not here.

I feel my heart sink. “Well, I saw you earlier with that guy.”

“Yeah? Which one?”

“The redheaded one. Jeremy.”

He stops flipping through one of the many files on his desk. “So?” And he starts again.

“Well, I know him.”

Nothing in Steve’s demeanor has changed.

“I mean… we just went on a couple of dates. So, you know I know he’s in finance or something. And you’re related, right?”

Steve stops and stares at me with a studying gaze.

I stand, expressionless, just breathing calmly and giving back my own studying gaze.

He sits back in his chair and folds his hands over his belly. “He’s my nephew.”

I nod slowly. “So… is the café okay? I mean, financially.”

Steve narrows an eye. “Who are you again?” Suddenly he snaps his fingers. “Gina. Right.”

“Right,” I say.

“Gina… what you’re asking is none of your fucking business.”

He jumps up out of his seat, appearing distracted again by the clutter littering his office. He frantically starts shuffling through his filing cabinets and his trash can and his filing cabinets again then suddenly looks as if he’s struck gold.

“Ah ha.” He holds up a white envelope “This.” He taps the envelope twice against his palm.

It looks fat, like it’s full of cash.

Steve grabs his jacket from the back of the door. He passes me and turns. “Tell Rex to clean this place up,” he says before continuing on his way through the kitchen.

I stand, watching his overweight frame shuffle down the hallway. I know he’s gone when I hear the back door open and then slam shut.