Page 4 of The Infiniteness of Yesterday
“Of espresso. Get your head out of the gutter.” She grabs a water bottle from the mini-fridge and takes a long gulp, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “You take one tequila shot on the job because it’s your birthday and suddenly everyone thinks you’re an alcoholic.”
I try not to laugh, but it’s impossible.
“I have to get back out there. I left Pablo on his own and there was murder in his eyes when I said I had to get a drink.”
“You could’ve gotten a drink out there.” I adjust the strap of my apron so it’s not cutting into my neck so much.
“Where’s the fun in that?” She winks at me. “Clock in and get your ass out there. We need you.”
Then she’s gone, leaving behind the scent of her peach perfume.
I already clocked in, so I pull my hair back into a ponytail, put on my hat, and I’m ready to go.
Over the years, Cool Beans has turned into a hotspot in Santa Monica—one of those places that locals love and unfortunately tourists have discovered as well. The line goes out the door well through the morning and lunch time rush.
Wisps of hair escape my ponytail from rushing back and forth taking orders and filling some when I can. Pablo and Poppy haven’t even had a chance to take their break yet. Things usually slow around two o’clock but it’s another hour away.
“Hey, stranger,” I say to the handsome man who stands in front of me.
He pushes his glasses up his nose, brown eyes sparkling with amusement. “Are you flirting with me?” He runs his fingers through his inky black hair.
I fight a smile. “Maybe.”
“I like it when you flirt with me.” He leans forward, planting a kiss on my lips. “I’ll get the usual.” He holds out a ten-dollar bill. “Keep the change.” Leaning his elbow against the counter and eyeing the line behind him, Jameson asks, “Busy day?”
“A little more than usual.” I scribble his typical order on the side of the cup.
Fondness warms his eyes. “Reminds me of the day we met.”
“Now it sounds like you’re flirting.” I smile at him, sliding the cup over beside the other orders waiting to be filled.
He’s not wrong. It was a similarly chaotic day when I met Jameson Scott two years ago. I took his order and went to make it myself to help the staff that was behind and walked right into a high school girl that was employed at the time. The two iced coffees she’d made ended up all over me and the floor. Somehow, instead of looking like a clumsy mess, he found me endearing and stayed through his lunch break which happened to coincide with mine. We ended up sitting at one of the tables outside just chatting about anything and everything.
We walked away with each other’s numbers and a date already planned for that weekend.
We’ve been together ever since.
Sometimes I wonder what he sees in me. He’s six years older than me, a software engineer with a promising future, and I’m a teen mom working in a coffee shop taking online classes so one day I can make more of myself than only filling orders. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but it’s not what I dreamed of.
For whatever reason we click and neither of us has ever looked back.
“Are you coming over for dinner tonight?” I ask him after I take the next customer’s order.
“Yeah, I won’t be working late. Do you need me to pick up Monster from your mom’s?”
My mom and dad are saints, and while I know they were as shocked as I was about my pregnancy, they’ve stood by me, and love Monroe the way grandparents should. Spencer or I take her to school in the morning, but my mom always picks her up and looks after until I get off work—or Jameson, who in recent months has been swinging by to pick her up so I don’t have to. It was a while before I introduced him to Monroe. I’m protective of her—that’s my number one job as her mother, to keep her safe. I wanted to be sure that Jameson was the kind of man I thought he was and that this thing with us was serious. I would never want to bring men in and out of my daughter’s life.
I’m lucky to have found a guy who not only loves me, but my daughter as well. She loves that he calls her Monster instead of Monroe or Roe. It’s their special thing.
I bite my lip. “If you don’t mind.”
“You know I don’t. You’re busy, I’ve got it.”
I appreciate the way he looks out for me. He knows that between being a mother, work, and school, I’mtired. I’ve beenrunning on fumes for months. I know when it’s all done it’ll be worth it, but getting through it isn’t easy.
“Thank you.” I lean over and give him a quick kiss as Poppy calls his name.
Raking a hand over his clean-shaven jaw, he flashes a smile my way before grabbing his cup. “I’ll see you later, babe.”
