Page 6 of Forty and Fighting Dirty
Laughing awkwardly, I shook my head. “It’s embarrassing. I might have overreacted, which is not the first impression I want to make.”
“Well, you’re in luck, because I love when people overreact.”
My laugh was more genuine this time. “There was a long line at the coffee shop, right?”
“Right.”
“And I finally got to the front. Took, like, ten minutes.”
“Long wait.”
“Yeah. And right when I open my mouth to order, someguy?—”
“Ugh! A guy!”
“Exactly! Someguyjust pushes in front of me and barks out his own order!”
“No!”
“Yes!”
“And he tried to ordermyblueberry muffin!” I lifted the bag for emphasis. “Just marched right up there and demanded the last one.”
“Unbelievable.” Mila barked out a laugh. “Who was he?”
“Hell if I know. But I’ll tell you what, he didn’t like me standing up to him.”
“I bet. You made a scene?”
“No,” I replied primly. “I stood up for myself. If anyone made a scene, it was him.”
“Darn straight,” Mila agreed, her smile wide. “So how doesthis affect your no longer being the bearer of black gold for me this morning?”
I bit my lip. “I got worked up. I’m sorry. I was so busy trying to get this jerk to get in line that I completely forgot about your coffee.”
“I suppose I’ll have to manage with office brew, then.”
“I’ll make it up to you.”
She grinned and waved a hand. “Don’t worry about it. What coffee shop was it?”
“Place called Peak Coffee,” I said, showing her my takeaway cup.
That was the moment a new expression flashed across Mila’s face. Gone was the delight she’d shown at a fresh bit of gossip, replaced with shocked understanding. She blinked and tried to recover with a smile.
“What’s wrong?”
Mila shuffled some papers, glancing in one manila folder and then another before sliding a stack of documents toward me. “Nothing. Nothing at all. I’ve got some paperwork for you here, and we’ll get you to do a few little training courses, you know, safety, company culture, that kind of thing…”
Dread began to snake through my gut. “Mila…”
She glanced up to meet my eye—and shifted her gaze behind me.
I experienced one of those moments of certainty. In that space of time—a second or two, maybe three at most—understanding filtered through me, and Iknewwhat Mila was looking at.
No. Not what.
Who.
