Finding Mr. Write (Business of Love #5) - Ali Parker Page 0,40

things were back home, but right when I was about to, the back door swung open, and the same young woman who’d been in the cafe when I dropped off my resume walked in.

She had earphones in and had three textbooks clutched to her chest. I couldn’t tell what they were for. Her hair was down but there was an elastic on her right wrist and I suspected it was only a matter of time before she put it up for her shift. She didn’t notice me sitting at the communal table until she set her books down. Her eyes widened in surprise and she pulled both earphones out.

“Sorry, I didn’t see you there!” She had a sweet, chipper voice, and her smile was radiant and youthful. She thrust a hand out over the table and I shook it. “My name is Callie. I’m Mare’s niece. I work here three days a week. I think it’s just you and me working the close tonight.”

“Hi, Callie, I’m—”

“Briar, I know.” She beamed. “Mare told me all about you. You wouldn’t believe how hard it is to get good help in this city. Every single person my aunt has hired over the last six months has turned out to be an absolute train wreck and I’ve had to cover shifts I simply don’t have the time for. I’m relieved you’re here. Mare said she has a good feeling about you.”

“She might say differently after this afternoon.”

Callie giggled and took her bookbag from her shoulders. She began cramming her textbooks into it and I got a look at two of the covers. One was a psychology textbook and the other was anthropology. There was a good chance she was taking general studies and trying to figure out what she wanted to focus on.

“Mare has a good sense about people. She knew the others would be flops before she offered them the jobs but held out hope they would surprise her. Lo and behold, they all wanted to go home early, never showed up on time, and flaked on several shifts. They cost my aunt I don’t know how much money. Little turds.”

“Well, I’m clumsy and I’ve spilled a hell of a lot of milk today, but I promise not to do any of those other things.”

Callie hung her book bag on one of the hooks near the aprons, helped herself to one, and tied it around her waist. “That’s the spirit. We all sucked when we first started this gig but just you wait and see. After a month, it’ll all be muscle memory and you’ll have your regular clients who want to chat your ear off like the rest of us. I’ll give you tips on who to avoid tonight.” She winked. “Otherwise, you’ll never get anything done and you’ll spend hours talking to Joe Blow about how his mechanic tried to rip him off.”

“That sounds dreadfully boring.”

“Exactly. Stick with me, new girl. I’ll get you in tip-top shape in no time.”

I liked her. She was all fire and fun and I had a feeling right out of the gate that we would get along without any problems.

I wasn’t wrong.

Callie and I spent the next few hours at work laughing our asses off about how much of a mess I was and how maybe Mare was wrong about me after all. It didn’t matter. I liked jokes that were at my expense. For some reason, it always made me feel like I’d been accepted somewhere. And Callie was on the ball when it came to cracking jokes about my big feet and clumsy hands.

Mare left the shop around six o’clock when the rush of the day quieted down and the evening haze settled in. The shop was pleasantly quiet around this time and filled with people reading or sipping coffees across from their dates.

Callie and I started preparing to close down by cleaning the espresso machine in sections so we could keep half open for customers and sanitizing all the other necessary bits and pieces. Then we cleaned up the rest of the place.

I didn’t need much training when it came to that sort of thing. I was used to the process back at my old shop.

As I pulled up the floormats behind the counters so I could sweep and mop, Callie started closing down one of the registers.

“So what do you think of the city so far?” she asked as she began counting the float. “Do you like the chaos or are