Page 59 of Seven+Four

“In his office,” comes Linda’s rapid reply.

“Go get him.” She runs off as soon as I utter the words.

“Would you like a coffee, boss?” one of the baristas offers me.

I nod. “To go.”

I turn to the others. “There have been a couple of heated verbal arguments in the last few weeks, one in front of the customers. Do any of you care to tell me what happened?”

Nobody speaks, suddenly avoiding my eyes, except one guy. His gaze doesn’t waver, spine straight, hands balled up. A defensive pose like he’s expecting something negative to come his way. If he intends to physically attack me, his small and delicate figure won’t help him at all against me.

“Name?”

“Izzy Pratt.” His lips turn into a long line, and I suddenly know why.

“You’re the one involved in the quarrels.”

“Quarrels?” He sniffs bitterly. “I don’t know who your source is, but that’s not the word I’d use.”

“And what word is?” I accept the coffee the barista hands me, tilting my head at him without taking my eyes off Izzy Pratt.

“Bullying, harassment, threats.”

I like his boldness, but it reminds me too much of Lori.

“Mr. Mahoe. What a pleasure!” The manager, Russ, finally arrives, looking like he has not a worry in the world. He reminds me of Ken from Barbie. However I can read anxiety in his stiff smile.

“Sorry for my tardiness, I was organizing some papers in the office.”

I ignore his ass licking and get straight to the chase. “You’re fired. Pack your shit and go.”

There’s a moment of silence, and then a gasp and low murmurs go around the room.

“What? But…why? I’ve been doing a great job in the last month,” Russ sputters with a desperate expression, and I know why. Yesterday, Rami cleaned out his bank account and got him evicted. Now he’s losing his job. This is nothing compared to what I really want to do to him.

“You’ve got your girlfriend a job here and a quick promotion as the assistant manager without any references. You’re also fired, by the way.” I wave at Linda while taking a sip from my coffee. This is good stuff; I should get some of these beans for home. “And also you let your drug dealer friends set up shop inside my café.” I took care of those fuckers already by giving an anonymous tip to the cops. They were picked up two days ago.

“That’s not true, I-I swear,” he says pathetically. What a fucking waste of space this guy is.

“Go before I call the cops.”

“You have no proof!” he barks.

“You turned off the CCTV inside the café, but not outside in the back alley where you and your pals smoked weed togetherduring work hours.” Fucking amateur. “I have plenty, shithead. You also owe me seven hundred dollars for all the free food you and Linda gave away to friends and family.”

His face has turned red, body trembling with anger. If he tries to pounce on me, I have a nice surprise for him—witnesses be damned. It would be self-defense, and Veronica is registered. I almost hope he does attack me. But time passes, and the worm doesn’t make a move.

“What the fuck are you still doing here? The holier-than-thou boss spoke.” I give him a long, challenging look since I’ve heard him call me that behind my back. “Get the fuck out before I make you,” I hiss with an incinerating glare.

He finally flees, tail between his legs, toward the office with Linda following him like a lost puppy. “You.” I point to the barista who gave me the coffee. “Make sure he doesn’t steal anything.” He nods and quickly jogs after them.

“You can go back to work,” I tell the others.

I’ll keep my eye on Russ, and if he crosses the line at any time, I’ll stuff every hole in his body with bullets. Nobody fucks with me. The thought that he’s been doing it for a month enrages me. I started having my suspicions about two weeks after he started, but Rami told me we needed more proof. Just in case. Now I have enough.

“Are you going to fire me too?”

I lower my gaze to Izzy Pratt. He’s still here.

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