wrinkle in confusion. Did she even realize I was on it?
As far as I knew, there was no rule against talking on my personal cell, especially in an empty shop.
And yet, I could tell by Abigail's scowl that I'd done something to displease her. After all, she'd seemed perfectly happy two hours ago, when she'd left the coffee shop to open her fabric store across town.
Still, I tried to smile as I said, "Oh hi." I glanced toward the back room. "So I guess you came in through the back, huh?"
Abigail was around my mom's age with short black hair and an upbeat demeanor, well, usually, anyway.
Not now.
In a strained voice, she replied, "Yes. Is that a problem?"
It shouldn’t have been a problem. I mean, it was her shop, not mine. But obviously, something was a problem. With growing unease, I asked, "Is something wrong?"
She eyed me with obvious disgust. "You might say that."
In my ear, my sister had gone totally silent, which was probably for the best. With my boss glaring daggers at me, I chose to ignore the microphone near my face as I said a silent prayer that Abigail would conclude that I was simply listening to music or a podcast.
Or maybe this was frowned on, too.
I wasn't quite sure. All I knew was that I'd obviously done something wrong. With a nervous smile, I held up the damp cloth and explained, "I was just wiping down the tables."
"Good," she said. "When you're done, you can leave."
I glanced toward the nearby clock. It was barely ten-thirty in the morning. My shift didn't end for six whole hours. "So…you're letting me go early?"
"No. I’m letting you go, period."
On the phone, I heard my sister gasp. Or maybe that was me. I didn't get it. Even if the phone thing was a problem, surely I'd get a warning before I'd be fired.
By now, my heart was racing. Even though this wasn't my dream job, I was too mortified to speak. I'd never been fired before. Even the thing with the bank, that was part of a mass layoff. It wasn't personal or related to my performance.
But from the look on Abigail's face, this was personal and then some.
Somehow, I managed to say, "Can I ask why?"
Her eyes narrowed to slits. "You know why."
I reached up and practically yanked the earbuds from my ears. As I stuffed them into my apron pocket, I said, "Is it the phone thing? Because—"
"No," she snapped. "It's not the 'phone thing' – whatever you mean by that."
I shook my head. "So what is it?"
She crossed her arms. "Did you, or did you not, make a run for Chase Blastoviak?"
I blinked. "Make a run?"
"Yes," she said. "As in chase him down the sidewalk."
"What?" My head was spinning now. "I wasn't 'chasing' him." As far as I could recall, I'd never even left the coffee shop doorway.
"Oh," she said with a bitter laugh. "So you weren't trying to lure him inside, huh?"
I hesitated. "You mean…into the coffee shop? Well, yeah, but—"
"You know what? I've heard enough." As she spoke, she strode around the counter and stalked toward me. I stood frozen in horror as she lunged forward and practically ripped the damp cloth from my hand. "On second thought," she said. "I'll wipe down the tables. Now get your stuff and go."
I sputtered, "You can't be serious."
"Oh yeah? Why not?"
"Well…because for one thing, all I did was try to talk to him."
"Not the way I hear it."
"From who?" I demanded.
"That's not important."
"It is to me."
"Want to know what's important to me?" she said.
"What?"
"That I have employees who listen." Her mouth tightened. "On your first day, you remember what I told you?"
I tried to think. This wasn't my first barista job, so she hadn't had to tell me much. Stupidly, I shook my head. "No. What?"
In a low voice, she gritted out, "No hitting on the customers."
"What?"
"I'm not gonna say it again." She pointed to the front door. "Now are you gonna leave peacefully? Or do I have to call the police?"
By now, I didn't know whether to scream or cry. The whole thing was so stupidly unfair. It wasn't even accurate.
I hadn't hit on anyone, especially Chase Blastoviak, who was quickly becoming my least favorite person in the known universe.
Yesterday, he'd been a total prick. And today, he'd gotten me fired.
This was his doing.
It had to be. After all, no one else had been around while I'd been trying to talk to him. So of course,