“Ma’am?”
Blinking, I looked down at my finger. “It’s not that bad.”
“Even the tiniest cuts can get infected,” he stated with my hand still gently gripped in his.
I pulled my hand away, brushing my finger on my apron. I internally cursed at the blood that smeared the fabric. That’d be a pain to get out.
“I can’t have a customer clean this,” I said, grabbing the towel again. If he cut himself, it’d be on me. Though, with hands as thick-skinned as his, I doubted anything could pierce the flesh.
“It’s not a problem.”
I focused on soaking up the coffee with the rag. “It’s a liability thing.”
I needed something to put the glass in so I could clean the rest of the mess. I stood at the same time he did, our foreheads banging into one another. I squeezed my eyes shut for a second as he steadied me with rough hands on my shoulders.
“Should someone this clumsy really be working in a coffee shop?” he asked, his voice sounding accusatory. As if I was the problem here.
I straightened, narrowing my eyes at him. “I am not clumsy.”
He pursed his lips, his eyes shooting to the mess on the floor and then back to me. “You’ve hit me twice in the last two minutes.”
“Hit you?” Was he serious?
“What else would you call it?”
I grabbed an empty coffee cup off the counter, bending back down to gently pick up the glass on the ground. My head pulsed where we’d bumped into each other, and my finger was still bleeding, which had to be a sanitary issue, but I couldn’t care less right now.
The man’s boots shifted in my peripheral as I plucked the shards, then disappeared for a second until they came back into view.
“If you won’t take care of it, then at least let me,” he started.
I looked up at him from where I was still crouched. “I’m fine.”
He took a step back, holding his hands up, one of them gripping a wad of paper towels. “Alright.”
I was so over today.
My eyes fell to the stain of coffee on his shirt and another curse rolled off my tongue. I tried to keep the swear words to a minimum around Avery, but today was not my day.
Heaving a sigh, I stood again, taking the paper towels from his raised hand. I pressed my finger into the wad, the cut stinging slightly. “I appreciate you trying to help, but I assure you I can take care of it. You’re not supposed to be behind the counter anyway.”
His gaze darted to the door I’d come out of, then back to me. “I wasn’t sure if anyone was working here.”
“So your plan was to check in the back?” I asked, looking down at my finger to see how bad the cut was.
Thankfully, it didn’t look like it needed stitches.
“Yeah,” he admitted.
“Well, the door wouldn’t be unlocked if there wasn’t someone working here,” I said, hating the anger in my tone.
He slowly nodded, like he knew that.
“I’m sorry about your shirt,” I blurted.
He looked down like he was just now realizing there was coffee on it. “No biggie.”
I turned to the sink, running my finger under the water. The bleeding was slowing, but I didn’t want coffee or other bacteria sitting in the wound.
“You can have a coffee on the house,” I said over my shoulder, my focus on my finger as I rinsed it clean.
When I didn’t get a response, I looked in his direction, but he wasn’t there.
My eyes raked over the rest of the cafe, but he was gone.
I shouldn’t have been so irritated with him. It truly wasn’t his fault. I was typically able to keep my calm, but after everything that had already happened today and it barely being nine a.m., my self control snapped.
“Mama, can I have a—”
“Avery, don’t come out here! I have to clean this glass,” I hurriedly said before she could slip out from behind the door. “I’ll let you know when you can come out.”
“Okay.” The door swung back shut.
My chest rose with the deep inhale I took in an attempt to calm myself even the slightest, placing both hands on the metal countertop beside the sink.
Only four more hours, and then I could go home and crawl under the soft covers of my bed before I had to do it all over again tomorrow.
2
