"Hailey's POV"
The weekend flew past like it had somewhere better to be. Monday rolled in with its usual weight, dragging me back into my café apron and routine. This was going to be my last week on afternoon shifts before school resumed. From next week, I'd be stuck on night shifts—less pay, less rest, more stress. Funny how the morning shift workers got to go on dates, the afternoon crew got to breathe, and I—the night owl—got to squeeze in classes on top of everything else. Truly, a win-win. For everyone else.
I sighed as I cued in a customer's order and carried it to her.
"An order from table three. Two lattes and two doughnuts."
My eyes flicked to the slip again. VIP order. My pulse did a small, unwanted jump. Was it him?
I hated that a part of me even asked the question.
"Well?" Sam's voice cut through my thoughts. "I'll take the counter. You go."
Of course. Sam was the manager—serving VIPs was beneath her. For me, it was compulsory. Lucky me.
I adjusted my apron, hesitated over my name tag for half a second, then left it on. Taking it off would be too obvious, and besides…he already knew my name. Pretended not to, but he did.
I carried the tray over, wearing my carefully perfected no-expression face.
Only to meet two unfamiliar pairs of eyes.
I forced my work-smile as I set down the order.
One of them said something I couldn't catch. I didn't bother asking.
What had I been expecting, exactly?
I guess he'd finally decided to stop coming.
Good. That was good. Right?
Except…what about Purple Days? My book. If he'd disappeared for real, then I'd have to chase him down just for that. Not because I wanted to see him. Just the book. Obviously.
"Did you hear what I said, girl?"
I blinked. An elderly man was standing at the counter, glaring at me.
"Sorry, sir. Could you repeat your order?"
He puffed up like a balloon about to burst. "What's wrong with young girls these days? No concentration. Always daydreaming. Do you have a family? Or is your mind always in the clouds?"
I opened my mouth. "I.."
"And you talk back too! No respect for elders. At your age, I already had a family and responsibilities. And still, I was sharp!" His voice rose, drawing unwanted stares.
I wanted to snap, but bit my tongue.
Sam hurried out of the kitchen, smile plastered on her face like makeup. "We're so sorry, sir. What do you need? It's on the house."
The man's eyes lit up, scowl melting instantly. He rattled off an order far larger than the muttered one I'd half-heard earlier, eyes gleaming like he'd just won the lottery.
A scam, clear as daylight.
I stood there in silence, watching him waddle out later with more food than his teeth could handle. My fists curled at my sides.
Sam's eyes locked on mine. We need to talk.
Later, I signaled.
Now, hers said.
Great.
I followed her into the back, where she crossed her arms.
"Why did you do that?" she snapped.
"What did I even do?"
"You didn't listen to him the first time."
"He was the one who—" I caught myself. "Oh. Right. That. Sorry. I was…distracted."
"Family issues?"
"No."
"Boyfriend?"
My silence stretched just a little too long.
"Hailey," she warned. "Do you know how much that slip-up cost us?!"
"Why did you make it free then?" I shot back. "You could've just asked him to repeat his order."
"This is about reputation. Customer first, always. You think people will come back if we argue with them?"
"And now look what it cost you," I muttered. "His original order was probably just two iced coffees. Now he's walking out with ice cream, cake, and half the menu. At his age, he should be ashamed—"
Sam cut me off. "You should've repeated his order to confirm. End of story. Because of you, this is coming out of your paycheck."
My stomach sank. "Sam, my pay's already small. If you deduct this, what's left?"
"If I don't, it'll look like favoritism. You know how this works."
The word made my stomach drop. My paycheck was already stretched to cover groceries, utilities, rent and sending something small back home to my parents, which part of it would most likely be used to pay my sibling's school fees. Even a small cut would throw everything off.
"Maybe just…a little deduction?" I tried.
She sighed, rubbed her temples. "Fine. But never again. Now get back to the counter."
I trudged out, forcing my "customer smile" back on. My cheeks ached with the effort.
The next customer stepped up—and my jaw nearly dropped.
"Hiii!"
I almost laughed in relief. Sophie. Of course.
"Hiii… what are you doing here?"
"What do you mean, what am I doing here?" She flipped her hair dramatically. "We're here for market research."
We?
I tilted my head and spotted Brian trying to make himself invisible at a corner table.
"You dragged him here? On a date?"
"Yes. At the Love & Love Café. Perfect venue, don't you think?" She winked.
I shook my head, laughing. "You're impossible."
Sophie leaned in conspiratorially. "Give me everything that tastes good. We're stealing your recipes."
Typical Sophie.
I rolled my eyes but quickly rang up her order, noticing the impatient line forming behind her.
"Talk later, Soph. Or these people will murder us both."
"Fine, fine. We'll wait for you to close. You don't look good anyway—something you want to tell me, right?" She winked again, grabbed her tray, and skipped off.
This girl. If she wasn't psychic, I didn't know what she was.
I moved through the next few customers quickly. Time ticked slower than usual, but finally, only three minutes left. My smile came easier as I glanced at the clock.
"Good evening. What would you like to order?" I asked the next customer automatically, still half watching the clock.
"Your favourite, Cashier No. 3."
The voice froze me. My head snapped up.
And there he was.
The stranger who knew my name. The one I had given up on seeing again.