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Out of sheer embarrassmentI’ve managed to avoid serving Finn every time he’s come into the shop since our awkward run-in with Josie last week. This hasn’t been the easiest task, seeing as he appears to have taken it upon himself to become the world’s most irregular regular; coming and going at different times each day and forcing me on more than one occasion to “check the deliveries” out back while a bewildered Mateo takes over at the till.
I’m sure he’s not wasting his energy thinking about the time that one barista strong-armed him into trying to convince her best friend she had friends to invite to a party and wasn’t a total lonely loser. But still, I’m avoiding him.
The day’s swell of customers has left me tired and ready to collapse into my bed, which unfortunately isn’t my plan for the evening, thanks to a date I reluctantly agreed to the other day. Now I’m left to close the shop, wiping down the surfaces and emptying the bins in preparation.
To my annoyance, there’s one customer still here. And of course, it’s Finn. I note that although I’m the one forced into a uniform every day, he seems to have his own. He must have an entire wardrobe of baggy button-ups. Today’s shirt is pistachio green, tucked loosely into his trousers, its sleeves messily pushed to his elbows.
He doesn’t look stressed, per se, because I get the impression he’s the kind of person who waltzes through life without breaking a sweat over anything, but judging from the overgrown stubble on his jaw, the way he’s dragged his hand through his hair three times in as many minutes, and how he’s clicking his mouse like it’s about to run away from him, I think this is his version of it.
I’ve been turning all the lights off around the shop for the past fifteen minutes, and now the only one left on is the one shining directly onto his table like a spotlight. But my passive aggression is futile, because it’s still mostly daylight outside and he hasn’t noticed a difference.
And unfortunately, while he’s probably on a deadline, so am I. It’s time to deliver the bad news. ‘Hey, we’re closing in less than ten minutes, by the way.’
He looks up at me, bleary eyes blinking, then stares around the room. ‘Oh god. What’s the time?’ Before waiting for me to answer he glances at his phone and his eyes widen. ‘Shit, I’m so sorry, I didn’t realise. I’ve been trying to finalise this piece of work for my client and got caught up. I’ll be five minutes, I just need to finish this off.’
I glance at his laptop screen and without thinking, say, ‘You spelled accommodate wrong. It’s two “m”s.’
He grins and deletes the extraneous letter with a flourish. ‘Thanks.’ He pulls the laptop closer and takes the paintbrush tool, painstakingly changing the colour of something in the background.
Ireallywant to lock up, but I have to make another suggestion. If helping him out will make him leave sooner, I’ll do it. ‘There’s an easier way to do that. Can I show you?’
As I’m clicking through the programme, he fills the silence with chatter. ‘It’s been a while since I used Illustrator. I’m usually aCanva guy for work. Don’t often need anything fancier than that. Are you a designer or something?’
‘Studied graphic design for a bit at uni,’ I say distractedly, though my heart thrums with an emotion I can’t name at his suggestion that I could be something more than someone in an apron.
When I turn his laptop back towards him, he clicks “undo” to see if he can do the sequence himself, the way I just showed him. He can. Fast learner, I guess. I’m about to go back to the counter when he calls my name.
‘Ava?’ I pause mid-turn. He’s looking up at me from the table. ‘Do you know your way around London?’
After a confused pause I reply, ‘Kind of?’
‘And do you know of any cool local places? Maybe some that you don’t think tourists have heard about?’
My brain flips through the possibilities; places I’ve been on dates, fun spots Josie’s told me about. ‘A few, I suppose.’
‘Remember I mentioned my London bucket list to you?’ Not at all, to be honest. I refrain from telling him that. ‘Well, I want to complete my list before I leave, and I think it’d be more fun to do it with someone.’
‘Why me?’
‘Why not you?’ he says with a shrug. ‘It’d be good to complete it with someone who knows the city better than I do. I'd hang out with Julien, but he’s really busy at the moment.’
I refuse to believe this man has no other friends to spend time with. ‘What if I’m busy too?’
He tilts his head, eyes amused behind his glasses. ‘Are you?’
I’m not, ever, but it’s presumptuous of him to think I could rearrange my whole social life around him. My system works as it is. For the most part. ‘I’m sorry, I just don’t know if I’m really in themood to make friends.’
‘No worries, seriously. Just thought it could be fun. Let me know if you change your mind.’
The Thistle and Thorn is the kind of place that’s practically purpose-built for business meetings and after-work drinks that end with grey-suited people rushing to get home to the families they’ve neglected all week. It may be devoid of any real charm, but with an extensive gin menu and a front door only a few hundred yards from City Roast, it seemed the perfect spot for a few drinks with tonight’s date.
Oliver is another finance boy, which was a mistake on my part, because by now it’s been an hour since we met, and he spent the first forty minutes out in the smoking area, taking drags on his vape while talking at me about bitcoin.
He’s one of those people who lives in Essex but says he’s from East London. If we’re still talking by the end of the night, I’m almost certain he’ll ask to come back to mine; not necessarily because he wants me specifically, but because he’s missed the last train back to Chelmsford and doesn’t want to get a cab the whole way home.
And as attractive as this man is, with near-impossible bone structure and a hairline at a reasonable position on his forehead, I’m not sure I’ll be able to tolerate him for much longer. I’m pleased to learn I do have some standards after all.
I could bail, but I’m thinking that if I stick it out for another hour until Josie’s finished work, I can leave and go to the pub with her instead. His voice filters through my subconscious and I realise he’s moved onto NFTs, a topic I have about as much interest in as I do bitcoin.
