He releases my hands and I shrug. “Yeah, I don't get it. I mean it's a Wednesday and its not like its back to school or the holiday season or anything.”
Ryan squeezes his eyes shut and pinches the bridge of his nose like he has a pounding headache. Pink flushes in his pale cheeks and he lets out a ragged breath. “The damn sporting goods store is having some kind of autograph signing and meet and greet tonight, so it's been like this all day.” Ryan opens his eyes wide and throws his head back in frustration. “Lucy's out there now and I've been helping her as often as possible, but the regional manager is coming in two days and I've been back and forth on the phone with corporate.”
“All right. All right,” I say as I tie the upper half of my apron. “Does this mean I'm going to have to stay over?”
A guilty smile crosses over Ryan's lips. “Maybe,” he croaks.
“Ugh,” I groan. “Really, Ryan? I take shifts for people all the time! Why can't you call them?”
“I already did. No one could do it, please, Hadlee. There's no way I'll be able to close alone. Not with this chaos.” There's a neediness in his ocher eyes that I just can't say no to.
“Fine,” I sigh. “I'll do it.”
Ryan pulls me into a hug. “You are a life saver. You have no idea!”
“I just need to let Lara know. She's my ride home.” I whip my cell out of the front pocket of my apron and type in Lara's number.
“You don't need to bother Lara. I can take you home if you need a ride.”
“That's okay Ryan, Lara, will wait for me. She's closing Whiffs and Sniffs too.”
It's not that I don't trust Ryan to take me home, I mean I've worked with the guy for the last three years so I know him pretty well. He's kind, and sweet, and funny. It's that...Well...I know he has a thing for me and there have been times where he's been clear about it. Like when he hugs me a little too long, or stares at me longingly when he thinks I'm not looking, or tries to hold my hand. Once, he tried to kiss me. Yeah, that was awkward. I turned my head and he missed. He wound up accidentally getting slobber in my inner ear. Talk about the mother of all Wet-Willy's.
I shudder when I think about that moment.
He's not too forward to the point where it's creepy, so I usually just laugh off his advances, and as nice as he is I'm
just not into him like that. I don't see him as anymore than a good friend.
“Are you sure?” he probes and lifts an ash colored eyebrow that matches the ash colored mop of messy hair on his head.
“I'm sure.”
I text Lara.
Ryan needs me to close. I'll meet you at your store at 9:15.
A pause. My phone vibrates before I can close it.
I'll be waiting :)
Snapping my phone shut, I slide it into the front pocket of my apron and leave the break room amping myself for five hours of complete madness.
I can't even tell you how many cappuccinos, lattes, coffees, and frappuccinos I've served up in the last five hours. I started running a tally, but slacked off during the second hour of my shift. At least the one good thing about being insanely busy is that it makes the time go by really fast. I'm already wiping down the counter while Ryan counts the money in the drawer. “That was complete and total insanity,” I mention as I toss the washcloth in the steel, basin sink behind me.
Ryan holds up a finger while he continues counting all the fifty dollar bills. He stacks them neatly in a pile, writes the amount on the slip, then shoves them into the bank bag. “Tell me about it. On the plus side,” he lifts up the plastic tip jar and shakes it, “you made some good tips.”
“True.” Trust me, all of those ones and fives add up. One time during Christmas someone threw a twenty in there. That about made my day. And during the holiday rush, not much can make a person's day when you're a barista. “But I'm still going to have to split them with, Lucy.”
“Still,” Ryan says. “You each had to have made over twenty bucks.”
“Fantastic.” I snatch the container from Ryan, and start divvying up the cash. All together Lucy and I each made twenty-two dollars and some change. Not bad. Not bad at all considering on the drive here I assumed the mall was going to be dead. I take Lucy's cut and stuff it into a white envelope then write her name on it with a black sharpie. Stuffing my cut into the front of my apron, I hand the white envelope to, Ryan. “Will you make sure Lucy gets this.”
Ryan takes the envelope and sets it down next to him. “Absolutely.”
“Are you okay to finish by yourself.”
Ryan is now knee deep in counting the change in the drawer, so he just nods and waves me off.