Page 7 of Must Love Flowers
“I need to go, or I’ll be late for work.”
“Okay, but when you finish your classes, would you bring me dinner? I could go for a Whopper.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” Likely that would be the only food he’d eat all day.
—
Because her father had held her up, Maggie arrived at Starbucks with only minutes to spare. She cleared her mind, determined to make the best of her day with a positive attitude.
She took her place at the cash register. Several of the morning customers were regulars, and she’d gotten to know them by name. It took effort to leave the negativity behind. Disciplined as she was, Maggie had learned to smile despite how unsettled her father made her feel. For the first time since her mother’s death, Maggie had hope of escaping him.
“Morning,” she greeted, as she automatically reached for a cup to scribble down the order and the name.
His hard hat identified him as a construction worker and someone Maggie didn’t automatically recognize. There was a huge apartment complex going up down the street, and she suspected he was one of the crew currently on that project.
“Morning,” he murmured, as his gaze lifted to the menu listed on the wall behind her. While he perused the selections, she couldn’t help noticing his dark brown eyes that reminded her of the chocolate brownies that were her favorites. Her mother had baked them for her birthday every year rather than a birthday cake because Maggie enjoyed them so much, plus they were easy to share with her friends.
This guy wasn’t hard on the eyes, either, and she guessed he was probably married. He didn’t wear a wedding band, but few in the trades did, because of the potential risk of injury. Even if he was available, it wasn’t like Maggie had time for relationships. It would be nice, though, one day.
“I’ll take a double espresso, a bagel with cream cheese, and give me a slice of your lemon pound cake.” His gaze left the menu long enough to smile in her direction. Yup, this guy was a charmer, and he knew it.
“You got it,” she returned, ignoring his lazy grin. She gave him the total, which he paid for with cash and left a five-dollar tip. “Your name?” she asked, ready to write it down on the cup to give to Ashley, who was filling the orders. “Einstein,” his friend answered for him.
That was clearly a nickname. “Thanks, Einstein, your order will be right up.”
The guy behind him was apparently working on the same project. “A bunch of us are going out for a few beers after work, you coming?” he said, speaking to his friend.
“Your order?” Maggie asked, not wanting to hold up the line.
“Oh, sorry.” He glanced up at the board. “Give me the double-smoked bacon, cheddar, egg sandwich and a Frappuccino.”
Typing in the order, she heard Einstein respond, “I can’t tonight. I’m taking my mother to dinner.”
“Your mother?” The other guy laughed. “Man, are you that desperate for a date you need to take out your own mother?” He seemed to find this information highly amusing.
“Ha, ha, you’re hilarious. It’s not my idea of a fun night, trust me. She’s been in this emotional slump since my dad passed, like she’s got this dark cloud hanging over her head. It’s hard to ignore.”
“Man, that’s not good.”
Maggie gave him the total for his order and got his name. Kurt. He swiped his credit card across the machine.
“I know I should go by the house more often, but every time I do, I leave depressed.”
“So why are you taking her out?”
The two moved down the line, and another customer, a regular, stepped up to the counter. While Maggie took his order, she couldn’t help overhearing the conversation between the two previous men.
“I ghosted her on her birthday,” Einstein continued.
This guy ditched his mother on her special day. That said everything.
“You ignored your mother on her birthday? Not cool, dude.”
“I know, but I had a good excuse. We were working on Sunday, remember?” Ashley handed Einstein his order. He took it and then waited with his friend.
Kurt leaned against the counter, as if that would hurry things along. “Ugh, that was annoying. I hate spending my Sunday on the job, but the money was good.”
“Real good,” Einstein returned.
