“I’ll make you today’s special. Vanilla and spice. It’s a knockout and it’s on me,” Tex told me as we approached him then when we arrived at the counter, he asked, “Who’s this guy?” His eyes were on Nick.
I introduced Nick to everyone. Indy came up and gave me a birthday hug and Jet and Ally wished me a happy birthday while they completed coffees.
We placed our orders and moved to the other side of the counter to wait for our drinks. Vance met us there. When he did I looked back at Duke. Duke was frowning at me. I looked at Vance again.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
Vance just smiled at me. I decided to take that as a “yes” though Duke’s face said it was a “no”.
“What’re you havin’?” Tex boomed at Vance.
“Sorry, but I was next.” The male customer at the front of the line, clearly having a death wish, spoke up.
Tex’s eyes cut to the customer and his brows drew together.
Um.
Yikes.
“Oh yeah? You are?” Tex asked the customer.
“Uh… yeah,” the customer said, now sounding not so sure even though he was standing at the front of the line.
“You a badass motherfucker who hunts down drug dealers at night?” Tex went on.
The customer stared at Tex then he stared at Vance then he stared back at Tex.
“Er… no,” he replied.
“You a badass mother f**ker at all?” Tex continued.
The customer looked at Vance. Then he looked at Tex. The customer had thinning sandy-brown hair, was an inch or two shorter than me, was wearing a suit and was perhaps ten pounds underweight. He was no badass motherfucker. He looked like an accountant.
The customer decided belatedly to keep his mouth shut.
“That boy is a badass motherfucker. Badass motherfuckers get their coffee first. It’s a rule at Fortnum’s. You become a badass motherfucker you get to go to the front of the line. You got me?” Tex declared.
The customer nodded, perhaps the only thing he was able to do which I figured was why he didn’t turn around and leave.
Tex turned back to Vance. “Now, what’ll it be?”
“Americano, room for cream,” Vance said. His lips, I noted, were twitching. I could tell he wanted to grin but he was trying really hard not to.
“You got it,” Tex returned.
I waited then when nothing else happened, I took a deep breath and relaxed, thinking that our dramatic entrance was over.
I was wrong. Very, very wrong.
All of a sudden Tex boomed again. This time he pointed at the couch in front of the window with a wide arc of his arm, the espresso filter in his hand. A pot of used, soggy grounds went flying across the room to splat on the floor in front of the couch. The people preparing to sit on the couch jumped away from the splattering grounds.
“What now?” Nick muttered from beside me.
“You! Yeah you!” Tex boomed, shaking the filter at a couple standing frozen in front of the couch. “Do not put your asses on that couch. The Law is sittin’ there with her uncle. Move!”
“Tex, we’re fine,” I said, my eyes on the scurrying customers.
“Stop scaring the customers,” Indy snapped over my words, her hands were on her hips, “and stop tossing the portafilter around. You’re getting coffee grounds everywhere. Do you ever clean them up when you do that? No! I clean them up. Jet cleans them up. Jane cleans them up. Does Tex clean them up? No, Tex does not clean them up!”