Book 3 Chapter One.....Krista And Her Coffee Shop
1211 Words
The week is almost over and I am trying to catch up on everything before graduation. I have been doing a lot of research on different universities. I am stressed though because I have to take care of my family. My mom and dad swear up and down that they don't need any help and that everything is ok, but I know better. I see them struggling when they think I am not looking. I am an only child. My mom and dad are both sick, trying to make ends meet. I have been going to school and working a full time job since I was sixteen. My parents don't know any of this though. They think that I am out with friends having fun. When I come home after school, I shower , then change, and set off to my job. I work at a coffee shop. It is the best job around here. The tips I make every day are good. I just be myself and everyone seems to love me. They all know that I am helping my folks without their knowledge. I love my job. I am sitting down at the coffee shop looking through my emails on my break when I hear the door bell. I close my laptop and get up and head to the counter. It was Miss Dawson. She was a nice lady. She always wanted the same thing every day. She would get a mocha with extra whip cream and a blueberry muffin. "Hello dearie! How are you and the folks?" said Miss Dawson softly. "Miss Dawson! It is so nice to see you. We are doing well. Thank you for asking. Would you like your regular today?" I say smiling. Miss Dawson just chuckles and nods her head. Once I finish she gives me a twenty and tells me to keep the change. "Miss Dawson! I could not, it is too much." I say exasperated. "Nonsense! You can and you will. I refuse to leave until you do." she says sternly. The manager Mr. Smith comes out and frowns. "Miss Dawson! Is everything ok? Is Krista causing problems?" he says sternly. I am beyond shocked. What the hell is he talking about. I am always nice and never cause problems. He never acts like this. Something has to be wrong. I go to defend myself when Miss Dawson beats me to the punch. "Mr. Smith! Krista is nothing but an angel. She never causes problems, shame on you. I was trying to tip her and she refuses to accept it." Miss Dawson speaks quietly acting like her heart is broken. She is hiding a smile. That old wench! I can't believe her. "Krista! It's rude to not accept something that someone gifts you." Mr. Smith reprimands me, but is smiling softly. "But-" I try to speak, but I am interrupted. "Here take it. I'm leaving. Have a good day Krista, Mr. Smith." says Miss Dawson and leaves. I look down and see the change on the counter. Mr. Smith picks it up and puts it in my pocket and pats my shoulder. "Krista. Just take the rest of the day off. I have some important people coming and I don't need anything else today. I will pay you for your time you missed, but please it is better that you go. Okay?" Mr. Smith says anxiously. I just nod and grab my stuff and leave. When I get out of the coffee shop I see a few black SUV'S pulling up. Several big bulky men get out and stand around like they are waiting on someone. They look scary so I put my head down and walk down the sidewalk rapidly until they are out of my sight. I take a deep breath and go home.
Once I get home I see my parents sitting down eating dinner. "Hey honey. Come sit down and eat. I made your favorite. Lasagna!" my mother says smiling. I can tell she is in pain but she quickly hides it. "Mmm yummy. Okay, let me put my stuff away and I will be right down." I say excited. I rush upstairs and quietly walk to my parent's room and sneak in and find my mom's secret stash and place all my tips from today in there. I smile smugly and put the box back in it's place. I go to my room and place my purse and sweater on my bed, then head downstairs. "So how was school honey." my dad says softly. "It was okay dad. Just the same as everyday." l say as I stuff my face with mom's famous recipe. Once we finished, I cleaned up for my mom and told her and dad to go rest. They were looking kinda pale so I knew they needed rest. I went and took a quick shower before I got my pajamas on and fell on my bed and passed out.
The next morning I went to school and then back to the coffeeshop. I walked up to the coffeeshop shop but it was empty. It was usually jam packed around this time. I walked in and found Mr. Smith laying on the floor groaning in pain. "OH My God! Mr. Smith are you ok? Here let me help you." I say frantically. "Krista, you.... shouldn't be here. I closed the coffeeshop shop for awhile. Please go home Krista." he said growling. I just shook my head and helped him up. "No Mr. Smith we need to take you to the hospital. You need help. Who did this to you?" I say with a fierce determination. He just chuckles and shrugs his shoulders in defeat. "Fine, but I'm not going to the hospital. I'm going to go home. If you think you can handle today, then I will let you open for awhile." He says softly. I nod my head and get excited. I flip the sign and within minutes people start flowing in. I take care of a few customers when I look up and my air leaves my lungs. There was this guy who was so gorgeous. He literally looked like a Greek God. I just wanted to take my tongue and lick him all over his body just to see what he tasted like. How would it feel to have him inside me. I palm my face. What is wrong with me? I have never thought things like this about a guy. He walks up to the counter and smiles devilishly. I blush and my whole face turns red. "C-Can I help you? W-What can I get for you?" I was stuttering as my face gets redder. He chuckles softly. "I would like a coffee and a muffin. Maybe a few minutes of your time?" he says shyly. I smile softly at his attempt to flirt. I have finished with all the customers and decided to go sit down with him and talk. "So what's your name?" I ask curiously. He just chuckles and scratches the back of his neck nervously. "My name is Landon. What about you?" he says softly. "My name is Krista." I tell him. We spend the next several hours enjoying eachothers company and talking about ourselves.
- Writer
