Page 191 of Tormented Billionaire Romance Series

I looked up fast from my register. “I’m sorry,” I apologized.

“Don’t be.” He looked past me at Suzie, who still tore the kitchen apart in her attempt to find an apron that wasn’t there, which shouldn’t have been there in the first place.

I smiled for the guy and checked to see how much change I owed him. I counted out quarters and handed them over. “There you are. Your name will be called at that counter over there when your tea is ready.”

He smiled back and promptly dropped all of his change into the tip cup. A lot of people did that, but not with quarters. Quarters still had some sort of value, but no one wanted to carry around a bunch of pennies and nickels.

“Thank you,” I said, really meaning it.

“No, thank you.” He flashed a cheeky smile and went off, occupying the same table Carter and Brian had just vacated.

I turned to my next customer, another polite guy a couple years older than myself. While I served him, I had to wonder why I didn’t try to get a boyfriend like him, or that other guy. I hadn’t had any interest in dating at all until Carter Bryant danced his way into my life and now all I wanted was him even though I didn’t deserve to have him.

What was wrong with me?

I felt presumptuous, like I had stepped over some sort of line. It was ridiculous. Suzie didn’t feel that way. Maggie hadn’t felt that way when she decided to go after Brian Holt. I could have feelings. But I felt that anyway and couldn’t get rid of it. It had sunk in, like a barb.

When I had finished with my customer, Suzie still hadn’t found her apron. She had torn the kitchen to shreds and managed to spill a drink, wasting a good amount of product. Giving up on her search, she stood in the middle of the kitchen, flustered and clearly hating it.

It was mean, but I felt a lot of satisfaction at her distress, maybe because she’d caused me so much already.

Darren, one of the other baristas, came up behind me and tapped my shoulder. “Megyn, can you do something about this?”

I paused in punching in the code for the iced tea my customer had just requested. “Do something about what?”

He rolled his eyes and nodded to Suzie. “Can you look for her apron with her? I’ll man the register.”

“That leaves Abram by himself, though.”

“We can alternate. And the sooner you get Suzie out of here, the better.”

I backed away from the register, without arguing. I was a better cashier than a barista. My forte was coffee sodas and those didn’t require the timing and artistry and proportioning that other drinks did. As much as I didn’t like it, it just made more sense for me to be the one to go help Suzie.

Darren stepped up to the plate and smiled at the customer. “I’ll be taking care of you for the moment. I apologize, but could you tell me what you wanted again?”

“Don’t abuse my numbers,” I murmured, referring to my cashier number, which I had to use to work the register. I was still logged on, which meant anything he did would be in my name.

Darren flashed me a thumbs-up without taking his eye off the register. I sighed and made my way over to Suzie. “Okay, let’s go find your apron.”

She shot me an indecipherable look. She went off, heading into the back and then into the break room. Another employee slept their lunch break away at a table in the back, face pressed into their folded arms.

I kept my voice low, to be polite. “Where do you think you last had it?”

“Um, in mylocker? Where everyone keeps their shit?”

I was beginning to think I understood what probably happened, though I hoped it wasn’t the case. “How do you mean?”

Suzie stared at me, green eyes blazing. “I put it in before I went home last night.”

That’s exactly what I thought.

“Maybe you accidentally put it in another locker by mistake,” I suggested without a lot of hope. “Let’s look.”

“I already did,” she sighed.

I went over to the lockers and, much to my surprise, she followed me over. “Which number is yours?”

Suzie pointed. “26.” Her finger trembled a little. Interesting, since I had never noticed her hands shaking before.

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