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"This is exactly what I'm talking about," she hissed. "You're careless."
"The customer didn't want cinnamon," I protested, picking up my own drink.
"That's not the point." Helena leaned closer. "So tell me about this sudden marriage. Is it for a green card or something?"
My coffee cup froze halfway to my mouth. "What? No."
"Then why would someone like you marry someone like him?" She gestured vaguely in the direction Novo had driven off. "He looks dangerous."
I remembered how Novo had looked after me yesterday, held me through the panic attack. "He's not," I said, my voice sharper than I intended. "And it's none of your business."
Her eyes widened, then narrowed. "Excuse me?"
"I said it's none of your business," I repeated, heart hammering in my chest. I'd never stood up to Helena before.
"Watch your tone," she snapped. "I'm your boss."
"You're the assistant manager," I corrected. "And my marriage has nothing to do with my job."
Helena's face flushed an ugly red. "Maybe I should call Marco and tell him how you're speaking to me."
"Go ahead." The words came out braver than I felt. "He knows I'm a good worker."
For the next hour, Helena made sure I got the most difficult customers and complicated orders. During the lunch rush, she assigned me to handle both the register and drink-making while she disappeared into the back "to do inventory."
By two o'clock, I was frazzled and exhausted. I didn't have time for a break, just guzzled black coffee, which we were allowed. My hands were shaking from stress and too much caffeine on an empty stomach. When the door chimed, I looked up automatically, hoping it wasn't another rush of customers, and my heart dropped somewhere into my boots. Mrs. Kazinsky was a friend of Helena's and the most demanding and nit-picking customer I'd ever met. I was sure she only visited to make my life hell.
I looked up to see Mrs. Kazinsky approaching the counter, her designer purse clutched in her manicured hand. Her face was already set in that pinched expression that meant trouble.
"Matthew," she said coldly. "I'll have a large skim latte, extra hot, with exactly one and a quarter pumps of vanilla. Not too much foam, but not too little either."
"Yes, ma'am," I said, forcing a polite smile as I rang up her order. "Anything else today?"
"A heated blueberry scone. Make sure it's warm all the way through this time." She slid her credit card across the counter with two fingers, as if touching the surface might contaminate her.
I processed her payment and turned to make her drink, feeling her eyes boring into my back as I worked. My hands were shaking so badly I had to concentrate on each movement.
"I heard you got married," Mrs. Kazinsky said, her voice dripping with disdain. "Helena tells me he's some kind of criminal."
I nearly dropped the milk pitcher. "He's not a criminal," I said quietly, focusing on steaming the milk to the exact temperature she preferred. "He's in a motorcycle club."
"Same thing, isn't it?" She sniffed. "I always knew you'd end up with someone... unsuitable. Birds of a feather, after all. Where did you meet?"
"I'm sorry, ma'am, but my personal life is just that." When I turned to hand it to her, she reached across the counter and grabbed my wrist.
"Didn't your mother ever teach you respect," she hissed.
Her sudden grip startled me, and the hot latte tipped, pouring over the counter and her purse. She shrieked, leaping back.
"You did that on purpose," she screamed. "Look what you've done. My Hermès scarf. My phone."
"I'm so sorry," I gasped, grabbing napkins and rushing around the counter. "You grabbed my wrist, I didn't—"
"He assaulted me," Mrs. Kazinsky announced to the now-silent café. "This employee deliberately threw coffee at me."
Helena materialized from the back room as if summoned by the commotion. "What happened?" she demanded, then saw Mrs. Kazinsky's stained scarf. "Oh my god, Elaine. Are you alright?"
"No, I am not alright," Mrs. Kazinsky seethed. "Your employee attacked me with scalding coffee. He could have burned me. I'm going to sue this establishment for every penny."