Deception - Chapter Two
"Zac, why is there a line? I can hear a line!" Paul calls out from his office. I sigh and wipe my coffee-stained hands on my apron, trying desperately to calm down the crowd of people waiting in front of me. I'm the barista - so this isn't exactly my fault, because I don't take orders from customers. That's Zac's job.
But when did he ever do his job?
Never. So I always take the blame. I poke my head into Paul's office and give him a sheepish smile.
"Zac's on his lunch break. It's my fault, sir," I lie easily, "sorry, it won't happen again."
He smiles at me, probably glad I'm not Zac - he genuinely hates that boy - and I thank god silently that he doesn't hate me, too. But his mouth turns quickly back into a frown.
"Still?" he grumbles. "It's been over an hour. This is the best tea and coffee shop in Manchester and I won't have that boy ruin it!" He slams a meaty fist down on his desk.
I walk back to the front, rolling my eyes once I know he can't see me, and continue taking orders and grinning at returning customers and making their drinks. (I'm the most well known barista at this tea shop partly because I'm the only one who doesn't slack off around here - I haven't had a day off in three weeks).
Once the line finally starts moving, I sigh and look out the window, noticing the rain pitter-pattering down on the roofs of the business buildings across the street. I usually don't mind the rain, but all I'm thinking about now is the fact that I still don't have a car and I'll have to walk home in this weather. Just to make today even better. I sigh once again, looking back at the next customer, and fake my best smile.
"Can I get an espresso?" an orange-skinned fake blonde asks, tapping her long pink nails on the counter.
And I thought those types of girls only existed in movies.
I nod with a grin and turn to the machine, pressing the buttons that will start making her coffee. Spinning back around to see how many more people I'll have to serve before my shift's over, I notice that there's just one more person after the blonde girl.
But what I'm really focusing on was why the blonde girl keeps glancing back at the costumer behind her, flipping her platinum hair over her shoulder and batting her false eyelashes coquettishly.
I mean, seriously. Just order the damn coffee, pay, and go.
I hand the espresso to her once it's done, shoving it quite rudely under her nose, and she hands me some cash with a scowl, taking the cup from me and turning back around to socialize with the costumer behind her. She quietly slips him a scrap of paper and saunters away, giggling, her purple heels clicking behind her.
He looks slightly bored, and I see what looks like an eye roll from him. Throwing the paper away in the nearest waste bin, he walks back up to the counter. He sees me and smiles for real.
"Hi," he says in a low voice.
"Hi, hello, how may I help you?" The words come out shakier than I really wanted. Because, let's be honest: he's probably the most attractive human being I've ever seen.
Jet black hair is peeking out from behind the snapback that's sitting on top of his head. Huge, shining, crisp chocolate brown eyes - a match of mine - are staring at me, and his defined jawline is catching the light and throwing sharp shadows across his handsome neck.
He has his large hands stuffed in the front pockets of his jeans, and his white v-neck t-shirt clings to his body in exactly the way it should.
Damn.
He pretends not to hear the waver in my voice, and politely makes his order instead. And when I move down to the other end of the counter toward the machines, he follows me.
"So, what's your name, freckles?" he asks cutely. I blush at the nickname, but give him a side glance and a little smile.
"Camille," I answer quietly, staring at his styrofoam cup until it's full. I hand him his tea, and he smiles back and hands me some money. When his fingers ghost over mine, I have to suppress my involuntary shudder.
"Hi, Camille," he says, as the door to the coffee shop busts open.
I glance over at the man who's now standing a good three feet away from us.
His buff arms are crossed tightly against his chest and his eyebrows are furrowed. He's dressed in all black, too - trying to look intimidating. I glance back over at the guy in the snapback, thinking he's about to be scared off.
But snapback guy hasn't seemed to have noticed, instead taking a quick sip from his cup.
"I'm Zayn," he grins.
I smile and turn away from the man by the door.
"Well, hi, Zayn-." But I'm cut off by a hand on my shoulder. I turn around to see Zac, all bright eyes and wet hair, who seems to have come back from his break through the back door, finally deciding to actually work today.
"Hi, Camille!" he says lightly, shoving off his jacket and draping it across the counter. "You can take off. I've got it from here!"
Relieved, I watch as he walks into Paul's office to let Boss know he's back. I pretend I can't hear the immediate shouting about where's he's been and 'why did eating a sandwich take an hour and a half,' and I fight down my grin when it sounds like Paul's slammed his fist on his desk again.
I glance back at the guy in all black, still crossing his arms. We make awkward eye contact and I turn back to Zayn.
"Do you, um, know that guy?" I ask, pointing to the buff man.
Zayn chuckles - which makes me feel silly for asking. "Yeah," he explains, "that's Paul."
(So it looks like we've both got a Paul ruling our life.)
But he doesn't explain any more than that, so I look at him again, confused.
Which makes Zayn look at me as if I should know who this 'Paul' is.
He clears his throat, and his dark eyebrow lifts up. "Erm...he's a friend...Well, more of an overprotective brother, I suppose." He laughs, and so do I.
"Oh, I know about older brothers." A bell rings over the door and I suddenly hear someone calling my name.
"Speak of the devil," I mumble to him under my breath as Jesse hurries over to where Zayn and I are standing.
"Camille, I'm here to pick you up," he says, acting tough. He eyes Zayn unapprovingly.
I groan.
"I told you, I was going to walk-."
"Camille, we've talked about this!" He shoots another glance at Zayn, as if daring him to argue. "Get your coat, and let's go."
"Jess, I said I would walk home." I don't know why I'm fighting this so hard - only a few minutes ago I was dreading the walk in the rain - but I am. "You don't need to come and get me every time it's drizzling."
Jesse glares at Zayn again, who awkwardly mumbles a quick 'hey mate,' but Jesse just rolls his eyes and turns back to me. "Let's go. Now, Camille." I grumble a little about him being unfair, but relent anyways and turn back to Zayn.
"I guess I should get going. It was nice to meet you, Zayn." I smile with as much dignity as I can as I untie my apron and grab my coat from its hook behind the counter.
"Bye, Camille. I'm off, too." He nods to Jesse before he and Paul exit the doors. As soon as he's gone, I round on Jesse.
"Jesse, you ruined everything!"
He laughs meanly and then gives me a look as if to say, you're-in-serious-trouble.
Outfit: http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=81308978
Characters: http://www.donncastr.tumblr.com/characters