Page 8
Story: Not in the Plan
Customer solidarity for the win.
“Hey, do you have Wi-Fi here?” the woman asked. “The spinny blue ball of death shows I have almost zero cell service.”
“Yep,” Charlie said. “Password #Mack4Ever with the number four instead of the word ‘for.’”
The woman froze. “Did you say Mack4Ever? Like M-A-C-K?”
God, that voice. Brooklyn? Maybe Bronx? Whatever it was, the honey sandpaper tone slid into Charlie’s ears and traveled down her chest.
Ben looped his arm through hers. “Yep. Ms. Charlie here has an obsession?—”
“It’s not an obsession.” She nudged him with her elbow.
“Okay, adelusion… that she and Macklemore are destined to become best friends.”
“I like saying manifestation over delusion. It’s a much prettier word.” She unhinged her arm from his and reached for a coffee cup. “I call him Mack so when we meet in person, I’ll already have become accustomed to his nickname, and we can skip all thegetting-to-know-youformalities.”
The woman’s deep brown eyes narrowed and she tilted her head.
“You know who Macklemore is, right?” Charlie pointed to a framed photo on the wall from when she was an extra in his video filmed downtown. “You know, ‘Thrift Shop,’ ‘Same Love,’ ‘Can’t Hold Us’? The rapper.”
“Yeah, I know who he is.” She kept her gaze on her fingers tapping against the coffee cup. “My name’s Mack, so it threw me off for a second.”
Charlie smacked her hand on the counter. “What? No. Really? No.” Did all her manifestations get cross-wired during Mercury retrograde, and the universe brought a beautiful visitor instead of the rapper?
The woman ran her fingers through herhair and grinned. “My real name’s Mackenzie, but the only person who ever used that was my mom when I did something wrong.”
Whoa.Charlie could get lost in those dimples.
“Well, huh.” Charlie leaned over. A mingling of sea salt and blackberry scent reached her nose, and shehadto google this heavenly fragrance later. “By default, you’ll have to be my runner-up bestie.”
“Hey!” Ben called behind the counter.
Charlie rolled her eyes. “Sorry, second runner-up.”
“Deal.” Mack chuckled.
Charlie indulged in Mack’s deep, throaty laugh that should be bucketed and released on a dark day. “As much I’d love to stay and chat, the tables aren’t gonna clean themselves.”
“And this bagel won’t eat itself.” Mack’s mouth twisted. “That sounded way better in my head.”
Charlie giggled and moved back to the storage area. The stepstool squeaked as she stretched to reach the top shelf and slid a few boxes out of the way. A cup of water that had been sitting there for God knows how long knocked over and trickled down her arm.Really?She wanted to blame it on Ben, but he was the only reason Sugar Mugs stayed even as tidy as it did.
“Don’t hurt yourself,” Ben joked as he reached for stevia packets. “You’re not always the most graceful ballerina in the world.”
“You suck.” She flicked him on the arm. “Here, grab this for me.” She handed him a box of sanitizer and hopped off the stool.
Where is it, where is it?She lifted stacks of paper and boxes. Opened and closed desk drawers. Finally, tucked underneath some towels, she found her yearly goal notebook. She flipped open to the fifth page and grabbed her pen.
#137 Be a better organizer. You got this!
The landline rang, and she shoved the notebook back under the towels.
Ben grabbed the phone and she snatched it from his hands.
He flung his wrists. “What the?—?”
“Sugar Mugs.”
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8 (Reading here)
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
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