say?” They both paused when they got to the café, and Aaron smiled at Justin. “Thanks for the cover. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Keep your tits up, sweetie. Send that hot barista over with a toffee latte and a scone for me later.”
“You’re practically engaged. How does Dil— feel about you ogling my coffee slingers?”
“He doesn’t care as long as I only touch them in front of him.”
“I didn’t need to know that.”
“Then don’t ask.”
“Fair point.”
Justin gave him a fluttery little wave and skipped—yes, literally skipped —off down the street. At least someone was enjoying the weather.
Aaron paused to pick a few fallen leaves out of the planters by the door. In the spring, they would be bursting with flowers, and in another week or two he would have fall foliage and little light-up jack-o’-lanterns in them, but for now they were down to English ivy.
Two regulars occupied the purple velvet sofa in one corner of the café. Aaron nodded and smiled to them in greeting, but they were deep in conversation over their large mugs and Aaron didn’t want to interrupt them. Simon, one of his two employees, stood behind the polished wood bar whipping something up for a couple of giggling college girls as they flirted with him. In their defense, Simon was one of those super-hot ‘is he gay or is he just British’ kinds of guys. Technically speaking, he wasn’t British, but being raised in England until he was sixteen had left him with a pleasant accent. Aaron tried to ignore it. And his perfect ass.
He couldn’t complain, though. Simon’s favorite thing to do was flirt. Grandmothers, hot guys, puppies… Simon would wink and smile at just about anyone and most of the customers ate it up. Even Aaron’s father seemed to enjoy the attention. So did Aaron’s mother.
“You ready for a break, Simon?” Aaron asked as he came around the counter to wash his hands.
Simon, true to form, shot him a wink. “Soon as I’m done with these lovelies.” He swirled the foam in their mugs into two small hearts and passed them over. The girls giggled again and left him a five-dollar tip for their cookie (to share?) and two small fat-free, half-caf, sugar-free vanilla lattes. Or what Simon called hyphen lattes.
Aaron wondered what their reactions would’ve been if Simon had done his trademark ejaculating penis in the latte foam. Probably more giggles and a bigger tip.
“I’m just running down to the gym, and then I’ll be back,” Simon said, glancing at the clock. “I’ll grab a sandwich when I get back if it’s not too busy.”
Running down to the gym was Simon’s code for getting a quick blow job in the sauna after twenty minutes of cardio, but who was Aaron to judge? That was his own gym routine on a good day too.
“Take your time. It’ll probably be slow today.” As if to illustrate his point, a bright flash of lightning struck somewhere in the distance, followed by a loud thunderclap that practically shook the windows.
“That’s good. Clara called, said she’d be late.” Simon shrugged into a bright yellow raincoat and headed toward the door.
“She actually called this time? She’s getting better.”
“You know how she is. If she called, that means she won’t be here at all more than likely.” Simon pulled the door open, the bell chiming as he did so. “Back in half an hour.”
“Your ‘half hour’ is more like an hour. Why don’t you just say that?”
“If I said an hour, you’d dock my pay.”
“I should dock your pay anyway.”
“I’m getting paid for this, though, right?” Simon grinned at him before leaving.
Maybe he was too easy on his employees. They showed up late if they showed up at all, but when they were there, they worked hard and made Aaron’s customers happy. And in some weird way, their floating schedules and allergic reactions to punctuality added to the laid-back vibe that Aaron had come to cherish. The place wouldn’t be the same if
“Keep your tits up, sweetie. Send that hot barista over with a toffee latte and a scone for me later.”
“You’re practically engaged. How does Dil— feel about you ogling my coffee slingers?”
“He doesn’t care as long as I only touch them in front of him.”
“I didn’t need to know that.”
“Then don’t ask.”
“Fair point.”
Justin gave him a fluttery little wave and skipped—yes, literally skipped —off down the street. At least someone was enjoying the weather.
Aaron paused to pick a few fallen leaves out of the planters by the door. In the spring, they would be bursting with flowers, and in another week or two he would have fall foliage and little light-up jack-o’-lanterns in them, but for now they were down to English ivy.
Two regulars occupied the purple velvet sofa in one corner of the café. Aaron nodded and smiled to them in greeting, but they were deep in conversation over their large mugs and Aaron didn’t want to interrupt them. Simon, one of his two employees, stood behind the polished wood bar whipping something up for a couple of giggling college girls as they flirted with him. In their defense, Simon was one of those super-hot ‘is he gay or is he just British’ kinds of guys. Technically speaking, he wasn’t British, but being raised in England until he was sixteen had left him with a pleasant accent. Aaron tried to ignore it. And his perfect ass.
He couldn’t complain, though. Simon’s favorite thing to do was flirt. Grandmothers, hot guys, puppies… Simon would wink and smile at just about anyone and most of the customers ate it up. Even Aaron’s father seemed to enjoy the attention. So did Aaron’s mother.
“You ready for a break, Simon?” Aaron asked as he came around the counter to wash his hands.
Simon, true to form, shot him a wink. “Soon as I’m done with these lovelies.” He swirled the foam in their mugs into two small hearts and passed them over. The girls giggled again and left him a five-dollar tip for their cookie (to share?) and two small fat-free, half-caf, sugar-free vanilla lattes. Or what Simon called hyphen lattes.
Aaron wondered what their reactions would’ve been if Simon had done his trademark ejaculating penis in the latte foam. Probably more giggles and a bigger tip.
“I’m just running down to the gym, and then I’ll be back,” Simon said, glancing at the clock. “I’ll grab a sandwich when I get back if it’s not too busy.”
Running down to the gym was Simon’s code for getting a quick blow job in the sauna after twenty minutes of cardio, but who was Aaron to judge? That was his own gym routine on a good day too.
“Take your time. It’ll probably be slow today.” As if to illustrate his point, a bright flash of lightning struck somewhere in the distance, followed by a loud thunderclap that practically shook the windows.
“That’s good. Clara called, said she’d be late.” Simon shrugged into a bright yellow raincoat and headed toward the door.
“She actually called this time? She’s getting better.”
“You know how she is. If she called, that means she won’t be here at all more than likely.” Simon pulled the door open, the bell chiming as he did so. “Back in half an hour.”
“Your ‘half hour’ is more like an hour. Why don’t you just say that?”
“If I said an hour, you’d dock my pay.”
“I should dock your pay anyway.”
“I’m getting paid for this, though, right?” Simon grinned at him before leaving.
Maybe he was too easy on his employees. They showed up late if they showed up at all, but when they were there, they worked hard and made Aaron’s customers happy. And in some weird way, their floating schedules and allergic reactions to punctuality added to the laid-back vibe that Aaron had come to cherish. The place wouldn’t be the same if
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