Page 41 of Pucking Matt
“That’s it,” I say to him. “Now you need to learn where to press buttons on the screen, accept payments, and make the recipes.”
“Okay.”
“I hope you’re proud of yourself,” I say before I walk away.
His brows furrow. “Why is that?”
“You’ve gotten on my last nerve by being hired here, but I’ll give it to you. This is good.”
“Mm.” His face twists. “Not as good as trying to sell my truck. Or the Superman move down the stairs.”
That makes me laugh, even though I wish it didn’t. He looks at my teeth, and I feel immediately uncomfortable. I drop the smile and walk to Jen.
“Jen,” I say as she makes a coffee. “Why didn’t you tell me about Matt?”
She doesn’t say anything.
Matt is behind us when he says, “It’s not her job to report to you what goes on around here. Leave Jen out of it.”
“I’m not blaming her,” I murmur.
Matt nods. “It sounds like you are.”
I snap, “Some warning would’ve been nice.”
“And what would that have done?” he challenges me.
I step closer to him, all my friendliness from earlier is escaping my professional façade. “It would have–”
The front door opens, so I don’t finish my sentence.
“Welcome to the Grind Stone,” Matt and I say in sync. His eyes flick to mine, but I’m ignoring him. “What can I get for you today?”
The customer lists off a few sandwiches and drinks combos. He throws in a few bags of chips. Matt is watching over my shoulder as I tap on the screen and ask for payment.
“Is this the new guy?” the customer asks.
“Yeah. Hi, I’m Matt.”
“Nice to meet you, Matt.”
I start making the sandwiches as Matt continues to chat with the customer. It’s an awkward conversation. I think he just told Matt, “You look like you belong in some kind of sport or something. You’re all built and tall.” I brush off their conversation as Jen helps me make the sandwiches.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’m–”
“It’s okay,” Jen says. “Don’t worry about it. Seriously.”
“He’s not taking a hint.”
Matt is still chatting up the conversation. It’s finally flowing now that Matt can brag about hockey.
“What hint?” she asks.
“I’ve told him a dozen times to stay out of here when I’m working, and now he’s working here? I don’t know, Jen.”
“Well, you can’t quit.”
I huff.
