“You got family?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said. “But if I tell them how Joey has been acting, they’ll lose their shit.”
“This is heartfelt and all, but can I get the fuckin’ check?”
Taryn.
The ass.
He was standing directly behind me, and I nearly throat punched him when his raised voice startled the baby that I’d just laid down.
I gritted my teeth when he started to cry.
Poor little guy.
I turned and said, “You come in every freakin’ week and order the same thing. It has been eleven seventy-five since before you started coming here.”
Taryn narrowed his eyes just as the jingle started on the door again.
I looked up to see Tony walking toward the coffee pot to fill up his own cup.
I turned away and said, “If you truly need a handwritten ticket, I’ll write you one.”
He curled his lip up at me. “I do.”
I picked up the baby again and tried to soothe him as I went to write a handwritten check.
Which, of course, Taryn had cash ready.
Eleven seventy-five exactly.
“Thanks.” I rolled my eyes, thinking of all the stupid refills I’d gotten him.
I should’ve just delivered his food and nothing else.
I mean, it wasn’t like he was going to tip me anyway.
“She needs a tip.”
I looked up to see Scottie giving Taryn the stink eye. “The check is for eleven seventy-five. Standard tip is usually fifteen to twenty percent. You left her zero percent.”
“What?” Tony asked as he came over.
“Dad…” Taryn said.
“I taught you better than that,” he said. “How long have you not been leaving a tip for?”
Taryn stayed silent, but it was my lucky day.
Though I would’ve never brought this up on my own, I would always defend myself.
“He never leaves a tip,” I chirped as I got the large group a set of refills.
They smiled just as their order came up in the window.
I took their orders one by one as I listened idly as Tony berated his son.
Just as I got back for the last plate, Taryn angrily slapped down a lottery ticket and said, “Here. Maybe you’ll win the lottery.”