The Billionaire and His PA novel Chapter 12

Felix mirrored her scowl. “Grown-ass adults.” He replied. Hell would freeze over before he added anything to alter the taste of his coffee. And heaven forbid that he ever drink one of those abominations that were more sugar than caffeine like a cappuccino. From the corner of his eye, he saw the new waiter leave to get their order. He and Amy dived into more frivolous conversation topics until the food arrived.

He was just about to dig into his pancakes when he spotted the sloppy smiley face that had been drawn on them. It seemed that Amy’s stack of pancakes also had a similar drawing as he saw a smile enveloping her features. It was either that or she was really happy to be eating pancakes. Felix didn’t know why but for the first time in ages, he felt the corners of his lip pull up in a genuine smile.

*****

Cassie POV

As I walked through the front door of The Bean House, the tiny bell attached to the door rang out. I was immediately hit by the smell of fresh coffee and newly baked pastries. The café was decorated with varying hues of brown, white, and yellow. The seats in the middle parts of the café were arranged in groups of twos and threes around circular tables. The seats closer to the walls and corners of the café were arranged in booths with the chairs having bright yellow cushioning. Various handing and potted plants littered the café giving it the feeling of a cutesy cottage. The floorboards shone as they had probably been freshly mopped and polished. A chalkboard situated directly opposite the front door boasted of the Bean House menu and special for the week. Apple cinnamon waffles with oat milk latte, the chalkboard read in colorful fancy cursive letters. Secretly, I hoped that they wouldn’t sell all of the apple cinnamon waffles by the end of the day as the café staff usually divided up whatever was left unpurchased after the day’s sales. The air conditioner was on full blast, slowly drying off the sweat that had formed on my brow and armpits

The café was already filled with customers – the regulars and new faces alike. Most of the tables had at least one patron on them. My colleagues were working tirelessly with some of them behind the counter and the others moving around the café serving the waiting customers. I knew that the ones currently not on duty were slaving behind in the kitchen. Even though the staff of the Bean House was working at full capacity, the line to the front desk stretched out for what seemed like miles.

“You’re late.” My colleague Austin Stone stated as he shot a smile my way. His chestnut-toned skin looked like a canvas, bearing various tattoos. He had wavy brown hair which fell over his eyes in wispy bangs. As he was always pushing his hair back up or bowing the strands out of his face, I was repeatedly tempted to ask him to put his hair in a man bun or wear a headband.

I grabbed a rubber band from the counter and put my hair into a loose ponytail. “Yeah, I know. I’m sorry.” I offered apologetically. “I should have been here ages ago but Isabel asked me to walk her to work. Then I stayed to chat a bit with the ladies at the salon and I got a bit distracted.”

Austin paused from wiping down the counter. “I didn’t mean it as an admonishment. I was just trying to make small talk.” He said, offering me a nervous smile. “I heard about what happened at the club. No one deserves to have gone through that. You should have taken a break today.”

“Yeah right.” I scoffed. “I’m here for the same reasons you and everyone else working here are: I need the cash. And I’m not going to make money by sitting on my ass all day, now will I?” I said while putting on my apron.

“Well,” Austin started in a singsong voice as he tossed the napkin over his shoulder. “You could always work as a cam girl. You get to sit on your ass while you make money. It’s a pretty good idea. I think you could pull it off. You certainly have the body for it.” He complimented me as he brushed his hair out of his eyes and raked his eyes over my body.

I grunted as I fastened the bands of my apron. I was saved from making a rebuttal comment by the very welcome interference of another of my colleague.

Diana Coleman pulled the napkin Austin had hung over his shoulder and used it to whack him on the head. “Stop looking at her like she’s just some hot piece of ass you want to fuck and get back to work.” She commanded.

Austin glared at her but backed down when he realized that she had been lenient with him by hitting him with a napkin and not with one of her ring-ladder hands. Diana had a ring for every finger and he had been struck by her hand before. He didn’t want an occurrence of that ever again.

As Austin took his leave to refill the coffee maker, Diana beamed up at me. “Thank you so much,” I said as I handed a customer an extra-large Styrofoam cup. The line was dwindling as the morning’s rush hour came to an end.