“Two shots in there, or three?” she asked the waiting customer.
Adrianne, a big-boned, athletic woman in her forties, opened the microwave, which had just dinged. “I have a Morning Twist here for Roy!” she called out as she placed the paper-wrapped baked good on the counter.
Sean was adding whipped cream to a large drink, and he looked over at Bridget as he worked. “Did you get a chance to talk to Shelby?” he asked. “Everything alright?”
She nodded at him. “I did... She had some interesting news.” She waited for Christine to hand the customer their change, and then she said, “Everybody—quick announcement. We’re going to have a new worker joining us today. I haven’t met him yet, but he’s been approved by the higher ups, so I’m sure he’s going to be a great addition to our team. Let’s do our best to make him feel welcome, okay?”
The team agreed, and quickly got back to the hustle of getting orders ready. At ten after ten, a man walked up to the café. He looked like he was in his mid-thirties. The first thing that Bridget noticed about him was the long, bumpy scar that ran from his forehead to his jawline on one side of his face. It looked very fresh—red, raised, and bumpy. The second thing she noticed was his haircut. He must have cut it himself—perhaps with a hacksaw. It was the worst haircut she’d ever seen—little clumps of hair stuck out at odd angles while some sections were cropped close to his scalp.
He wore a baggy white tee shirt, a sweatshirt that had cartoon characters printed all over it, and stiff khakis that stopped a few inches above his bright white sneakers. Despite his odd-fitting clothes, he looked quite healthy and able. He frowned as he waited off to the side, near the counter but away from the line of customers. “Excuse me—is there someone named Bethany here?” he asked, once he caught Bridget’s attention.
Bridget shook her head. “No Bethany,” she said.
His frown grew deeper. “I was told to talk to Bethany. I’m sure that I’m in the right place. I’m supposed to... wow. I can’t believe I’m going to say this. I’m supposed to work here... serving drinks or something.”
“I’m Bridget,” Bridget said carefully, eying the guy. “Is that what you mean?” As she looked closer, she saw he had a handsome face, though the scar was so distracting that it was almost hard to appreciate. His eyes were dark and bright. What was going on with his clothes? she wondered. His appearance was very incongruent. She was usually so good at reading people, but she couldn’t get a clear first impression of him, besides the fact that he seemed very unhappy about being there, talking to her.
“Oh, yeah. Bridget. That’s who I’m supposed to talk to,” he grumbled.
“You must be Sebastian,” Bridget said.
He nodded. “That’s me. I could really use a cappuccino, if you don’t mind. Light on the foam, with half of a raw sugar, please.” He lifted a hand and rubbed his temple. “It’s been a nightmarish twenty-four hours. Have you ever had to ride the bus?”
Bridget’s mouth fell open. Did this guy just order a drink from her, after showing up ten minutes late for his first shift, and calling her by the wrong name? It was so inappropriate, it was almost funny.
“Let’s get you outfitted in a company shirt and your name tag,” she said. “Maybe you can have that cappuccino on your break. You get one drink per shift. Actually, it’ll be great for you to make that cappuccino to get a little practice on the machine. Have you worked as a barista before?”
Bridget walked to the side of the bar and flipped up the hinged countertop to let him through. She motioned for him to follow her toward the back room. “No,” he said disdainfully. “I’ve never worked before.”
“Excuse me?” she said. “You’ve never... had a job—is that what you said?”
He cleared his throat. “Uh... I meant not in the service industry. I don’t usually serve people.”
“Oh, okay. Well, I think you’re going to like it, as long as you enjoy being around people. Customer service can be very rewarding. Tell me... how is it that you found your way to us?”
She was trying, gently, to furrow out the meaning of Sebastian’s assignment. It seemed strange that he’d been assigned for work at her store from all the way over in Florence. What was the meaning of his appointment? Why was he here?
“I just... well... I was traveling some and that came to an end, rather abruptly.” he said. “And here I am. Lucky me.”
The last bit sounded somewhat sarcastic, which Bridget didn’t like. His answer was entirely too vague, too.
She held all this in. I’m going to handle this carefully, she coached herself mentally. If corporate headquarters wants me to employ this guy, then that’s what I have to do. I just have to roll with it, like Shelby said.
She smiled as she lifted an apron off of a hook. “Here you go, this one can be yours. I’ll print up a name tag for you in just a minute.” She reached for a shirt out of a milk crate on the floor below the aprons. “And here’s your uniform shirt. I’ll send you home with another two. Each employee gets three to start out with. In the fall, as the weather gets chilly, I’ll issue a long sleeve shirt to you, and I’ll give you a fleece when winter comes around.”
Usually, new employees said “thank you” at that point, but Sebastian said nothing as he accepted the shirt. Instead, he held it up and examined it. “Awful,” he said, with a shake of his head. “Just awful. You’re saying I have to wear this?”
Bridget thought his response was odd, given the unstylish assortment of clothes he had on—seriously, who was he to judge? He didn’t seem to care about appearances at all. But again, she let it slide.
“Yep, I expect you to wear that, along with a pair of khakis or black pants—no jeans, please—to each shift. What you have on now will be perfect.” She motioned to his khakis.
“I’d hardly call these perfect,” Sebastian said, eying his pants with disgust.
Bridget shook her head. Sebastian sure was an odd duck. “Get changed up and meet me out front,” she said. “I’ll give you a tour of the bar area, and then I’ll have you make up a few drinks as practice. I think you’re going to like it here, Sebastian! It’s a really pleasant place to work. I always enjoy coming in. We’re glad you’re here.”
She wasn’t one hundred percent sure, but she thought she heard him say, “That makes one of us,” under his breath as she walked away.
3
Beauty
It was five o’clock, and Bridget was helping her crew with the clean up duties when her father, Danny Belvue, walked in.
“Dad!” She leaned over the counter to deliver a kiss to his cheek.
He was grinning. “Hello, Pumpkin,” he said, with a twinkle in his eye. His gray hair was even more of a wild mess than usual, his spectacles were smudged, and there was an ink stain on his worn blue sweater.
“Good day, hm?” she guessed, judging by his disheveled look. Usually his messy appearance indicated he’d had a good day in his science lab. He held a manilla folder in his hands, and it was filled with a thick stack of papers.