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‘I’m alright. I have a meeting in a bit anyway.’ He takes a sip and eyes me over the lip of his cup. ‘Julien mentioned you’ve been spending a lot of time over there recently. You must really like the ambience.’ His mouth bends into a smirk.
‘They do great coffee.’ I narrow my eyes. ‘And tell him to stop gossiping about me.’
‘But you’re just so easy to gossip about,’ he says, pushing himself off the counter. ‘Well, have fun. Say hi to the cute barista for me.’
‘I—’
‘I meant that Spanish guy.’ He laughs as he passes, like he’s just made the funniest joke known to man.
I’m not stupid. This isn’t the first time I’ve developed the tiniest, most minuscule crush on a beautiful, intelligent woman who’d never give me the time of day. I think back to Léa and how good it felt to be around her before it went wrong. You could, in fact, say this is theexacttype of woman I’m drawn to.
Luckily, Ava could not be clearer about how little she wants me. Or anyone, really. I’ve seen customers flirt with her so brazenly, and I can’t tell if she intentionally ignores them or just doesn’t even notice.
It’s not my business, but I assume she ran off to meet someone yesterday. I thought we were having fun, but she scurried off like she was Cinderella and the Tube was moments away from turning into a pumpkin. She seemed distraught that she was gonna be late for him. But, you know, the heart wants what it wants.
So while she’s happy helping me out with the bucket list, I’ll make sure this is yet another amicable, surface-level thingthat’ll be easy to leave. That’s how these things are supposed to go.
On my way out I read one of the leaflets laid on the tables around the room.Atrium Design Services: creative graphic design solutions.An idea comes to me and I approach a woman in yellow overalls who I know from various elevator chats.
‘Hey Amber,’ I say, ‘do you guys ever hire interns?’
‘Oh, yeah, sometimes. Hold on, let me check something.’ She taps a colleague on the shoulder and brings her into the circle. ‘Finn’s asking if we hire interns. Aren’t applications for the summer cohort open now?’
‘They are, but they’re closing pretty soon. Are you interested?’
‘I’m asking for a friend actually, but where can I direct her?’
‘Here, take a card and get her to check out the jobs page on our website. All the info should be there.’
I thank her and grab a business card from her outstretched hand, pocketing it as I hit the automatic doors that lead me outside.
An hour later I have to swerve with superhuman instincts to avoid colliding with Ava, who’s just left the back room and isn’t watching where she’s walking, a waft of vanilla hitting me as she moves.
‘Sorr— oh. It’s you,’ she says, tying her apron around her waist. Her hair’s messy in its ponytail, her face like thunder. I think she’s hungover.
‘Your sunny disposition always brightens my day.’ We walk in the same direction and at her scowl, I realise I’m in the mood to be annoying. ‘Are you stalking me?’
‘This is literally my place of work,’ she retorts—which of course only encourages me. Nice to know she’s just as surly hungover asshe is well rested. A creature of habit.
‘I’m glad you’re finally here,’ I begin, and when her gaze falls on me, tired as it may be, I have to look away for fear she’ll ensnare me in it. ‘Mateo’s out back so your manager made me a latte and it was really shit. Sorry, I shouldn’t say that. I’m sure he tried his best.’ I scrunch my nose as I remember. ‘No, but it was shit.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that. I’ll make sure to send you my rota so you can plan your visits around my hours.’
‘That’d be a dream, thanks.’ Another customer approaches behind me and I do my usual snack perusal while Ava rings up their order, curt and professional as always.
‘Why are you lurking, Finn?’ she asks, the moment they leave the counter. ‘If you’re not buying anything, can you sit down? You’re scaring away the customers.’
At that moment, I spot Belinda at her usual table, who waves to me with her typical enthusiasm. I wave back with a smile but direct my question at Ava. ‘Has anyone ever told you how incredible your customer service skills are?’
‘I do get that a lot, actually.’
I wait for her to finish chugging an entire cup of water, and then another—in what I can only assume is a post-alcohol rehydration tactic—before my curiosity peaks and I broach the subject of last night. I make sure my tone is casual when I ask, ‘Had a good evening, I take it?’
‘Yeah, it was fun. Sorry I had to run off.’ She glances at me and her eyes widen slightly in apology. I get the feeling she doesn’t often hand genuine apologies out, so I lap up the moment while she continues. ‘I ended up staying up way too late. Didn’t even drink that much, but Josie’s cocktails are borderline-toxic waste.’
‘The best kind of cocktail.’ At the mention of her spending the night with Josie, something inside me relaxes.
‘My brother was over too.’ She avoids eye contact. ‘I had to meet him at the station.’
