《The Coffee Shop》Chapter 1 - Part 4
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“I will, Lawrence.” She spit his name when she spoke it.
“I’m gonna have to change my name if you keep it up.”
The words had barely left his mouth when Clarissa let out an angry snort. “Ever the clown.”
I had to admit that despite not liking anything else about her, the woman was capable of expressing herself through tone of voice alone.
The woman turned her gaze in my direction, lowering her eyelids as she looked me up and down. “Little mouse over here is going to go over super well, I’m sure. I am willing to bet that he hasn’t even let them know yet.”
“Clarissa,” he said, interrupting her.
Or trying to at least, as she continued to speak. “You stand there stone silent as if you just don’t care about it all. All it shows is that you don’t know anything. You make coffee and expect the world to orbit around you.”
“Clarissa!” He raised his voice and placed a hand on her shoulder.
“I expect some respect inside my own business, which you seem incapable of giving me. First my house, now here?” I said, not waiting for either of them to step in again.
I watched as an eyebrow rose up on her face.
“Take a breath. I may be quiet but I’m not an idiot, and if you can’t play nice you don’t need to be here. You can leave.” The words left my mouth in a rush.
Her description of me had more truth than I would like it to. I am closer to a mouse than a lion, even if I was capable of cleaning house when it was needed. Being stern with customers was necessary. But this made my blood rush through my ears more than the usual confrontation.
With effort, I kept my expression neutral. I watched as her lips opened and then paused for a good minute before she decided to speak again. When she did, she turned to Lawrence, choosing to ignore the entire speech. “I will be talking to them. I expect that they have feelings about the whole thing.”
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She turned on her heel and walked back out the door. It was more apparent with each action and word that drama ran through her blood. Every step was deliberate- she walked like she had nowhere to be, pounding against the floor with each movement.
Rolling my eyes when she finally made it out the door, I turned to see Lawrence still watching her through the glass.
“So…” I said, not sure what question to ask.
There was a lot. A lot that should have come up already, and a lot more I’m sure I hadn’t even thought of yet. I felt like a dumb child, standing there and waiting for someone to explain what was happening.
Somehow an action that sounded empowering was now leaving me mute.
“She’s insane,” he said, jerking his head back in my direction. He picked his paper cup off the counter and giving the remaining liquid a shake. “You are fine.”
“I’m fine?” I asked. I could hear the pitch in my voice raise an octave, and I crossed my arms against my chest. “What the hell was anything she talked about? Did you know she was in my house one day?”
He let out a laugh that made me want to reach out and slap the cup out of his hand. “No, but it sounds like her. She likes to beat the welcome wagon.” With one motion he finished the coffee that was in his cup and put it back down on the counter.
His eyes met mine, and he placed palms down on the wood to level his head with mine. “Look, you don’t have to worry about it. You just have to run the shop- live your life. I’ll deal with her. She won’t be back.”
“Lawrence-”
“Samantha,” he interrupted, “You are fine.” He stood up as if it had solved the matter.
I had less information than I had started the day with and more things to worry about.
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“But,” he held a finger up to his lips for a second, and then lowered it again. “I would hire a new manager.”
While I processed the words, he turned around. One hand waved, and without another word, he was walking toward the door.
My mouth attempted to form words, but I had no reason to call him back inside. Rolling my eyes one more time, I glanced down at the trash he had left behind.
“This is what I want to deal with forever?” I muttered as I threw the empty cup in a trashcan under the counter. I didn’t know the answer to that question either.
I do have employees that work with me and under me at the coffee shop. I think that some people have to take this on faith, as I tend to work a lot, and I tend to work the mornings alone. I know how to do everything, and I cover every dropped shift.
That is my job as the owner. It is my responsibility to make sure that everything gets done, even if no one else really wants to do it.
Lawrence was right though. It was in my best interest to bring in someone new.
Someone that didn’t already have a baseline for the way things are supposed to be. The current employees were generally hard workers and nice enough to be around. Culture had always been a big part of my hiring process.
But they would notice the change in routine. The old faces acting stranger and the new faces talking to me the way Clarissa did that day. They would notice changes in myself, and I foresaw that there were plenty of those coming down the line.
I don’t know if anyone else would have been fooled by the pep talk Lawrence gave before he left, but I wasn’t. There were storms brewing, and I would need someone to could cover the shop when they landed.
It would be someone with experience - that could take care of things when I needed a day off. Hard working, and able to mind their own business. Those were my top traits as I read through stacks of applications and began to have interviews.
It took half a dozen before I scheduled the time slot with Morgan. That Friday afternoon she arrived 10 minutes before I expected her. She ordered a cup of hot coffee to stay and sat in the corner.
Her eyes moved across the cafe as she sat, sipping and glancing at her phone twice the entire time. When the hands on the clock moved into place to show 1 PM, she was standing at the counter again. Her cup was empty and her resume was in her hand.
“I’m ready.”
The interview was standard enough to be unremarkable.
She was a young 23, out of college and focusing on a long term career in the industry. I almost tried to talk her out of it, but I knew it was to both our detriments if I succeeded. So I bit my tongue.
Morgan had the sass and wit to rival any woman I had ever met, and it seemed like the exact kind of attitude I needed. Someone that was able to deal with changing circumstances, and the intelligence to not ask too many questions.
It’s not always great business sense to make decisions on the spot instead of sleeping on it. I also knew that it was only a matter of time before Clarissa, or someone else like her, walked through the front door again. We shook hands before she left that day.
All I knew that night was that the deal I made with Morgan felt a lot better for me than the deal I had made with Lawrence that other fateful day.
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