Winning Me Over

by Amber Garza

  “You guys should come in!” He calls, cupping his hands around his mouth.

  “In a minute!” Hadley yells back.

  “I’m not going to tell the cops,” I say. “He said he had nothing to do with the robbery.”

  “And you believe him?” Hadley asks, sitting up.

  “I think so.” I adjust the large brimmed hat on my head. Glancing down at my red bikini, my gaze roves over my pale skin. Even though I’ve lathered with sunblock several times, I worry that I’ll burn. It happens so easily.

  “Just be careful, okay?” Hadley places a hand on my arm.

  “Yeah, yeah. Enough of the peptalk. I didn’t come here so you could act like my mom.” I roll over. “Can you put some sunblock on my back, please?”

  “Again?” Hadley teases.

  “I care about my skin, okay?”

  “Okay.” Hadley giggles, and I feel cool lotion as she squirts it on my skin. After she rubs it in, she stands. “Wanna get in the water?”

  I shake my head, resting my head on the towel. “Not now. You go ahead though."

  “You sure you don’t want to come with?” Her shadow casts over me.

  “And watch you and Tripp make out in the water? No, thank you.” I shoo her away. “Go be with your boyfriend. I’m fine right here.”

  “Okay.” Hadley’s shadow disappears as she walks off. I close my eyes, listening to her and Tripp splashing in the water. Every once in awhile I hear Hadley giggling or Tripp chuckling. Once my back is too warm, I roll back over. Squinting through my sunglasses I scour the area for the two of them. Sure enough, Hadley has her arms wrapped around Tripp’s neck in the water and their lips are attached. I’ve often teased them that they’re attached at the mouths. Usually it doesn’t bother me, but for some reason today I feel a little tug of jealousy on my heart. As I continue to watch them, the image morphs and I imagine that it’s Colt and me in the water. I imagine what his lip ring would feel on my lips. Also, after hearing him talk yesterday I suspect he has a tongue bar. There was a slight lisp when he spoke, and every once in awhile when he opened his mouth wide enough I could see something metallic. I’ve always wanted to kiss someone with a tongue bar. One time I admitted this to Hadley and she thought it would be gross. I guess that’s why she’s going out with a clean cut, former football star that wears collared shirts and pressed jeans. Not my type at all.

  Colt said this town is filled with plastic people. Maybe that’s been the issue. Perhaps I’ve been looking for someone who doesn’t exist in this town.

  Only now he’s here. The words pass through my mind, causing me to shiver.

  SIX

  COLT

  There is an article on the robbery in the local paper. It’s only a matter of time before the cops question me. And when they do, then they’ll know the truth. And so will Paige. That’s the reason I need to just stay away from her. We only spoke a couple of times. If I never talk to her again it won’t be a big deal. Right? Even as I think it, I know it’s not true. That girl has already gotten under my skin. I can’t get the image of her sweet face and quirky style out of my head. I even keep thinking I smell her everywhere.

  It’s crazy. And it’s making me do crazy things. Ever since I saw that NOW HIRING sign in the window of Bud’s Bean Shop I’ve been itching to apply there. However, it’s a stupid plan. With my background and Paige’s suspicions, I’m just asking for trouble. The smart thing would be to stay as far from the coffee shop as possible. Then again, I’ve never really been known for doing the smart thing. No, I’m pretty much the guy who does impulsively stupid shit on a regular basis. So, really, why should I change now?

  “Hey, Aunt Callie.” I step into the kitchen early in the morning while she makes Bristol’s bottle.

  “Morning, Colt.” She already sounds exhausted, and it causes the familiar sick feeling to sink into the pit of my stomach. As always, I wonder when she’ll tire of the three of us. We’ll end up in the system this time. There aren’t any more family members left to take us. They’ve all tried before, and it’s never worked out. I may not love it here, but it’s a hell of a lot better than ending up in foster care. Besides, I can’t let that happen to Zander.

  “I’ll take Bristol for a little while. Let you get some rest,” I offer.

  “Thanks. That would be great.” Relief sweeps over her tired features.

  It’s now or never. “I was thinking maybe I could get a job. Help out a little. There’s a coffee shop around the corner that’s hiring.”

  Aunt Callie looks surprised. “Of course. That would be wonderful.”

  I nod. “It’s just that if I get it I won’t be home as often.”

  “What?” Zander appears seemingly out of nowhere.

  My heart plummets. I drop to my knees in front of him.

  His lips tremble. “You’re leaving us…again?”

  “No. No, champ. Of course not.” I draw him to me, pressing his face into my chest. As he trembles against me, my heart wrenches. “I was just thinking of getting a job. But I’m staying here, okay? I’m not leaving.” Damn, Mom and Dad. No child should be this scared of being abandoned. The familiar rage that lies just underneath my skin pulses through my body, poisoning my veins and consuming me.

  “Promise?” He peers up at me.

  I hate when he does this. How can anyone promise anything to another human being? Aren’t we all flawed? Aren’t promises made to be broken? “I’m staying,” I say firmly, not able to actually promise him anything. When I release him and stand back up, I see traces of tears on Aunt Callie’s face. I know this is hard on her too. She didn’t ask for any of it. I try to imagine how terrible it would be to wake up one day only to be saddled with the three of us.

  I take Bristol from her, who is uncharacteristically quiet today, and bounce her in my arms. Callie thanks me and then hurries down the hallway. I hear the click of her bedroom door and surmise that she’s probably going to take a nap. I carry Bristol into the family room, my spirits lifting when I think about the possibility of working side-by-side with Paige.

  Before reaching the couch, I catch my reflection in the mirror above the fireplace. I better lose the piercings and cover my tattoos when I go apply. I have to do everything I can to get this job. It’s my one chance to start over; to do something worthwhile for a change. And maybe even make a friend in the process.

  Bud is just an older version of that tool Paige always works with, almost like he could be the kid’s dad or something. Maybe he is. What did she say his name was? Something with a J, I think. I wasn’t really paying attention to what she said – more how she looked when she said it. I worked really hard on making myself look like one of the plastic people this morning. I combed my unruly dark hair to the side, shaved my usually scruffy chin, lost the piercings, and covered my tattoos with a long sleeved shirt.

  Bile rises in my throat, and my body turns into a ball of sweat while filling out the application. I know I can’t be completely honest on it. If I do, I’ll never get the job. I just hope Bud won’t do a full background check on me. I pretty much live on the hope that everyone around me is more trusting than I am.

  Bud offers me a free coffee during the interview. I’ve never had coffee that wasn’t made at home or at a gas station, so I ask for a mocha. I figure you can’t go wrong with coffee and chocolate. They both contain caffeine, I know that much. And isn’t chocolate supposed to boost endorphins or something? Maybe if I drink it I will seem happier, more peppy, more like someone Bud should hire.

  The drink is pretty good, even if it upsets my stomach a little. Then again, my stomach is usually upset. I think it’s from walking around in a state of nervousness and stress.

  I answer Bud’s questions the best I can.

  “Any previous work experience?”

  A lot, but it’s all illegal, so I didn’t put it on my application. “No.”

  “Why do you want to work here?”

  I have a thing for the sexy girl who works
behind the counter. “I’m looking for a summer job before my senior year, and I really enjoy coffee and meeting new people.” Now I sound like a tool.

  “You have any experience making coffee?”

  Nope. “Not in a professional setting, but I brew it every morning at home.” A complete lie, but surely it can’t be that hard to learn. Right?

  By the end of the interview I feel like I don’t even know myself anymore. The guy I described to Bud isn’t even someone I would associate myself with. But my guess is that the real me is someone Bud would never hire. In my experience, people aren’t generally a fan of the real me. Then again, they’re not usually a fan of the fake me either. Me in any form seems to be a turn off.

  Bud says he’ll give me a call when he makes a decision, and I feel like it’s a lost cause. If he liked me, wouldn’t he have just offered me the job right away? Oh, well. I tried. As I’m leaving, Bud answers the shop’s phone. The call lasts only a second, and then he hangs up, cursing under his breath. I reach for the door.

  “Colt?” Bud’s voice rings out.

  I spin around.

  “That was the guy who is supposed to work the morning shift. He can’t make it. Broke his arm or some crap excuse. Are you available to start right away? If so, the job’s yours.”

  Good luck is not something I’m familiar with, and my mouth drops open in shock. When I find my voice, I say, “Sure.”

  “Great. See you at six.”

  “AM?”

  “Is that a problem, son?”

  “No, not at all. See you then.” I push the door open and race out into the night before Bud can change his mind.

  SEVEN

  PAIGE

  I hate working the morning shift. Sure it’s nice to have my evenings free, but I’m so not a morning person, therefore when I have to get up at five A.M, I’m pretty much the biggest grouch on the planet. Ask my parents.

  After pulling my hair back into a messy bun, I don my fake glasses, slip on a pair of flats and head out into the crisp morning air. That’s the only good thing about early mornings. It’s cool. By this afternoon it’s supposed to be at least a hundred. My purse thumps against my hip as I hurry to my small car. My skirt swims around my legs, and my large earrings tinkle with each movement. Accessories are my friend. I almost never go anywhere without bracelets riding up my arm and earrings lining my ears. It makes me feel like me, I guess. I like being different. The worst thing in the world would be to fit in, to look like everyone else. Ever since my talk with Colt, I can’t get his words out of my head. Plastic people. That’s exactly what I don’t want to be. I don’t want to fit into anyone else’s mold.

  The sky is light, the sun fuzzy around the edges when I pull into the parking lot of the coffee shop. I step out of my car, eerie silence surrounding me. Jon’s car is already here, and my stomach clenches. I thought I was working with Eric this morning. Not that I like him very much either, but he’s better than Jon. He is a little bit of flake though, so I’m not surprised he isn’t here.

  I push open the glass door with the palm of my hand and step inside. The familiar aroma of coffee beans wafts over me. Jon turns from where is stocking the shelves. “Hey. Eric called in, so I’m training the new guy.”

  New guy, huh? Hope stirs. Maybe he’ll be more fun than Jon and Eric. It would be cool to work with someone I enjoyed being with for a change. “Okay. I’m just going to grab my apron.” I head into the back room, and grab my apron off the hook. As I’m tying it around my middle, a guy appears in front of me. I glance up, my gaze colliding with Colt’s. My heart leaps into my throat, making it hard to breathe. I step backward, slamming my head into the wall.

  “What are you doing in here?”

  “I work here.” It’s then that I notice his apron matches mine. He’s not wearing his lip, ring and his hair is combed neatly. It looks funny on him.

  “You’re the new guy?” I am dumbfounded.

  “Yep.” He tosses me a smile, and my palms fill with moisture. It’s quite possibly the sexiest smile I’ve ever seen.

  “But…does Bud know? I mean, about the other night? Have the cops talked to you?”

  His eyes darken. “I had nothing to do with the other night. And no, the cops haven’t talked to me, but when they do I’ll prove my innocence.” He looks irritated. “I thought we moved past this.”

  Shame burns through me. “We have. I’m sorry. I’m just…you know…surprised. I didn’t realize you wanted to work here.”

  “I didn’t.” He moves in close to me. So close his breath fans over my face. “Until I met you.”

  When he exits the back room, I clutch my chest feeling the frantic thumping of my pulse. I take deep breaths to calm my body down, but every time I get it settled I remember the way it felt when his face neared mine. After a few minutes I realize it’s a losing battle. This guy makes me feel things I’ve never felt before. The problem is that I can’t figure out if that’s a good or bad thing.

  My shift flies by. Morning shifts always do. It’s our busiest time. Colt seems to be getting the hang of things. He’s mostly been occupied by Jon, even though I do keep catching him staring at me. It shouldn’t make me as giddy as it does. When the morning rush subsides, I leave the counter to wash off the tables. As I wipe down a table with a wet rag, I feel someone beside me. I look up to find Colt staring down at me, wearing a heart stopping grin.

  “Jon is taking a break. He said you could show me how to clean the tables.” He cocks a brow, and it’s so hot it makes my stomach roll. “It sounds like a pretty tough job, so I plan to pay close attention.”

  I giggle. “Yeah. There really is a science to wiping down a table with a rag. You have to be pretty smart to figure it out.”

  “So, Jon’s not good at it. Is that what you’re saying?”

  The giggle turns into a flown blown laugh now. “When you’re the owner’s son, you don’t have to clean the tables.”

  “Ah.” His eyes shine. “That makes sense. I thought they looked alike.”

  “Jon is pretty much just a younger version of Bud, that’s for sure,” I concede, running the rag over a small round table. The light pours in from the windows, making every swirl of the rag visible on the slick surface.

  “You’re really good at that.” Colt leans over the table, bending down until his face is inches from mine. “You’ve been cleaning tables awhile, haven’t you?” There is a teasing gleam in his eye.

  “Since I was little,” I counter. “You?”

  Something flickers over his face and our teasing moment is broken. “Yeah.” He clears his throat, pushing off the table and standing up straight.

  “Wanna try?” I thrust the rag into his hand. “Since I’m supposed to be training you.”

  He shrugs, palming the towel. “I suppose I could give it a shot.”

  I watch him swirl the rag over a dirty table. The muscles on his arms bulge with each movement. I’m not sure what he did prior to working here, but he’s definitely built.

  “How was that?” He breaks into my staring, and I feel a little embarrassed.

  “It’ll do,” I joke.

  “Oh, really?” He glances from the table I cleaned to the one he just finished. “I think mine looks better than yours.”

  “I beg to differ,” I say, a light chuckle under my words.

  “Take it back.” He rolls the towel in his hands, snapping it out like he’s trying to hit me with it.

  “No.” I cross my arms over my chest, an amused smile on my face.

  “I’m giving you one last chance.” He holds the rolled up towel between both hands.

  I bite my lip to keep from squealing, and shake my head.

  He releases his tight grip on the towel and it snaps near my leg, but misses me. I hop away and he leaps forward. A giggle escapes from between my lips.

  “What is going on out here?” Jon’s voice stops us.

  We both freeze. Colt wears a guilty expression. He hides the offending towel
behind his back.

  “Sorry,” I say. “It’s my fault. I’m not sure I was the right person to train him on cleaning the tables. I haven’t quite mastered that skill yet.”

  Colt snorts beside me, and I toss him a stern look. He presses his lips together and stares hard at his feet while trying to gain composure. Jon doesn’t look amused, but he just nods as the bell on the door dings.

  “Saved by the bell,” I mutter under my breath to Colt, as I take off toward the register. Just as I reach it, I see Colt watching me wearing a grin on his face. It’s the happiest I’ve seen him since we met.

  “You walking home?” I catch Colt heading out of the parking lot on foot after our shift is over.

  He nods, shoving his hands into his pockets.

  “Wanna ride?” The minute the words leave my mouth, I regret them. I mean, what if he’s some serial rapist or something? This is the first time I’ve offered a stranger a ride. Then again, he’s not exactly a stranger. I mean, I’ve had two conversations with him, and I spent all day at work with him.

  “Sure,” he says.

  “Okay.” I push down the nagging doubts, and head to my car. After unlocking the doors, Colt opens the passenger door and hops inside. I slide in next to him, ignoring how much my hands tremble as I turn on the car. I’ve never been this nervous around a guy before. Maybe because I’ve never been around a guy who looks like Colt.

  “Have you worked at Bud’s for long?” Colt asks as I pull out of the parking lot.

  “Only about a month.” I glance over at him. “Which way?”

  “Oh. Left.”

  I take the turn.

  “Do you like it?”

  I shrug. “It’s cool. I mean, Jon’s a total jerk, but Bud’s nice. And as long as Bud likes you, then you’re golden. Jon thinks he has so much control, but he doesn’t have any.”