Total pages in book: 156
Estimated words: 157140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
Because Wayne? He looks like a hardboiled egg dyed pink. And ruining his entire week isn’t what I’m after. I wanted to help him—not get him fired.
“—there needs to be more respect for the rules, for starters,” the Grumpfather says when my ears ping back on the conversation.
The kid behind us mutters something, but I can’t make out what.
I almost regret jumping in and hate that it’s too late to bow out.
I can salvage this, though.
“Excuse me, but Wayne is a gem. He’s the reason this store stays open and keeps half the neighborhood coming back. He’s like a coffee superhero. Don’t tell me you’re going to lay the hammer down on your best barista? If you want to boost business, this is the worst way to do it.”
The stuck-up suit presses his lips together. “I’ve met feral raccoons less frustrating than you.”
I fake a startled gasp, slapping my hand over my mouth. “Oh! Did they bite you, too? Because I have urges.”
He squints in confusion, then lets out a hefty sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re annoying as hell.”
“Cool. You’re Mr. Arrogant.”
He shakes his head slowly. “I should give you a lifetime ban from every store.”
My heart skips a beat. I don’t know whether to laugh or worry or smack this Neanderthal across the face.
“Go ahead. Right after you do, I’ll hop on the Tok and review your ‘perfectly fine big chain’ coffee. I’ll be sure to mention why I’m banned. You want to see big numbers on social media? Just wait for that drama.”
His lip curls, baring a hint of polished white teeth as I inch closer, breathing in his ear.
My entire body bristles.
I want to believe it’s just hot rage as I brush his shoulder—but damn him, those biceps are ripped.
“Are you fucking done yet?” he whispers back.
“No. While we’re waiting for TikTok to blow up, I’ll call corporate for good measure. Someone needs to tell the powers that be that some little pencil-dicked district monster goes around impersonating the owner and harassing customers and senior employees. How does that sound?”
For the girl’s sake, I try to keep it down.
Apparently, it doesn’t work.
A couple shaky gasps spill out of the crowd around us.
He raises one eyebrow. He’s either disgustingly amused or about to shove me to the floor.
Also, he has the bluest eyes God ever made. Annoying.
I wish those eyes weren’t attached to a throat with a tone that’s condescending enough to curl my hair when he says, “When you do that, you’ll talk to Katelyn Storm, my lovely assistant. She handles my incoming calls to corporate. She will tell you that pencil-dicked monster signs his papers with an instrument bigger than an oak branch. Because I’m the owner.”
Eep. I swear, it’s just the anger that’s making me blush redder than poor Wayne.
“You can cut the crap. No way do I believe a CEO of a company this large just walks through into some downtown store. You’re a bad liar.”
For a moment, he stares at me. I’m just waiting for laser beams to shoot out of his eyes.
“You really don’t believe me, lady?” His voice is a rumbling storm.
“Lady? Is that how you talk to your customers? I thought the northwest was more progressive.”
“Huh?”
“You don’t even know me,” I throw back.
“Yeah, and I wish we’d never met,” he whispers with a cutting glance. “You’re right about why chains fail—we don’t know our customer. Where are you from?”
“San Diego, originally. I came here a few years ago.”
“That would explain it. Seattleites aren’t so in-your-face.”
I stare at him, trying to decipher what sounds like a backhanded insult.
A couple of other baristas just trailing in for the morning rush appear behind the counter. They stand around Wayne awkwardly, their eyes flicking to the corporate sharks, wondering what they’ve walked into.
Whatever. I don’t have time to worry about them.
I need to deal with this jerk and scram. We’ve both got better things to do than carry on a grudge match in a coffee shop.
“So you’re saying it’s totally cool to harass customers? That’s not the Seattle I know.” My lip juts out as I hit him with my best resting bitch-face.
“When the customer decides to involve herself in corporate matters she knows nothing about—”
“Oh. Okay. Because you don’t plaster your stores with signs welcoming feedback.” I turn and gesture to one on the opposite wall. It has a smiley face with lightning bolts for eyes and says, Share the Spark! Review us today.
The kingpin stares like he’s trying to decide just how much he’ll have to pay some hitman to chuck me into the Puget Sound.
I’m in this far, so why stop now?
“What? No nasty comeback?” I snap. “Do you have a PhD in coffee chemistry from the U of Ego to go with your area manager role?”
“Eliza—” Wayne clears his throat loudly.