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CHAPTER1
Mylee
Hiss! Splat!
I jumped back as the steam from the frothing wand sprayed over my pinstriped shirt, dousing me in dots of milk for the fourth time today. Gritting my teeth, I turned off the frothing machine, but it was too late to escape Zander’s always-watching eyes.
“It’s too hot. You need to make sure the milk is cold when you make foam,” he intoned, stepping forward to take the metal canister out of my hand.
I resisted the urge to snatch it back or dump it on him.
Fuck off, Zander,I offered silently, wondering if he just waited in the shadows for an opportunity to mansplain things to me or if his timing was merely impeccable.
“Thanks, Z,” I replied sweetly. “I keep forgetting.”
I didn’t forget. It was just the nature of working at a busy café. I couldn’t keep up with the flow of drink orders and not expect to get dirty, but I didn’t bother explaining that to Zander, whose shirt was inexplicably clean. That probably had something to do with the fact that he played pseudo-supervisor and didn’t do any work.
I let him take the caked container, and I stepped back, brushing the back of my hand against my forehead to pull the annoying stray strands of hair from my face. Inevitably, pieces had come loose from the high ponytail during my shift to tease and irritate the skin on my cheeks and ears. Under normal circumstances, the tendrils probably wouldn’t have bothered me so much, but with the fusion of current company and mounting stress on my shoulders, every little bit was getting to me.
As always, a low din settled around Teatolter’s, the mid-afternoon crowd half-filling the quirky, jungle-themed café with a mishmash of businessmen and college students. A whining pop song played through the speakers, Zander’s dated playlist only wearing on my already frayed nerves.
“You really should keep another shirt here,” Zander went on, setting the wiped canister back on the espresso machine for me to start again instead of doing it himself, since he was such an expert. “The way you get dirty, it only makes sense that you keep a wardrobe on hand. God forbid Sandra walk in and see you looking like you do. She’s salty under the best of circumstances.”
He winked teasingly, and I stifled the urge to give him the finger.
Not all of us have the luxury of having our mommies doing laundry for us.I choked on the words somehow, reminding myself that getting into it with Zander would serve absolutely no purpose but to create a hostile work environment.
Turning back to the order, I fixed my full attention on the latte, careful not to wear any more of the steamed milk on my uniform. I still had another four hours before quitting time, and I already reeked of sour milk. I could add that to my list of grievances with my day.
“Here you go, Elle,” I chirped with as much cheer as I could muster, handing the paper cup to the blonde regular who waited in the line.
She flashed me a quick smile, still talking on her phone, and turned away without a word to me. Despite the nametag on my shirt, I had no doubt that Elle, like all the other businesspeople who flocked through the doors of this chain, had no idea what my name was, despite the fact they had been coming in as long as I’d been working there. There were way more interesting things to look at in Teatotler’s than my exhausted face.
The leering fish in their wall tank were easier to feast one’s eyes on while waiting on a coffee than the actual human in front of you—not that I could necessarily blame the customers. I often found myself staring at the fish, rather than the patrons, lest I make eye contact with the wrong weirdo.
As Elle used her hip to open the door while balancing her coffee, a manicured hand curled over the top of her head on the door, pulling it to allow her through. At first, she looked up in annoyance, but like me, her eyes popped to see the stunningly handsome face attached to the arm. For a split second, she froze, studying his face.
“T-thanks,” Elle choked as the tawny-toned man grinned at her, flashing a perfect array of ivory teeth.
“My pleasure,” he replied, stepping aside to allow Elle out before stepping in where she had stood.
My jaw slacked to see that he wasn’t alone. His two companions were just as beautiful as him, although in very different ways.
Surprisingly, the first man was the shortest of the three, though I couldn’t be sure if that was accurate at second glance. They were all very close in stature, the tallest one the blond who ambled in last. As he stood, his face twisted in an uncomfortable frown, as if he would rather be anywhere else. The middleman had black hair and eyes so piercing blue, I could feel them from where I stood.
I barely knew which way to look between the trio, who exuded power with their confidence, expensive shoes, and casual but pricey button-down shirts. They exuded class and money. Or maybe that was just my hormones talking. Wave after wave of elegance radiated toward me, even from that distance, and I had to give myself a shake. All three of them were so very good looking, it was hard to believe that they were all together in a group.
The doorstop caught me gawking, his emerald iris taking me aback, the contrast to his honey complexion stopping my heart. But before I could manage a watery grin, Zander’s voice was in my ear again.
“The men from Silverpiece,” Zander piped in, shattering my reverie and the modicum of euphoria it had given me in the middle of my shift.
Gritting my teeth, I pivoted and looked at him, his chin bobbing up and down confidently, like I should know what he was talking about.
“What?” I barked with far more venom than I intended.
“Those guys who just walked in? They’re from Silverpiece.”
I stared uncomprehendingly at him. “Is that supposed to mean something to me?” I asked, regaining my composure. The moment had passed, and I had work to do that didn’t entail gawping at men way out of my league.
