Page 3 of Undeniably Corrupt

Liora’s head whips over, and that smile is still in place. She comes to the other side of the counter, having someone else take over the screen.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. What did you?—”

“I ordered a tall latte with half skim, half whole milk, one pump of espresso, one pump of vanilla, one pump of hazelnut, and one and a half shots of espresso with extra foam.”

“Um. Okay.”

“This garbage”—the woman sneers, sliding the cup across the counter toward her and nearly having it topple over and spill before Liora catches it—“is full-fat milk. I know. I can tell. How can this be your job, and you get something so basic wrong? It’s not exactly brain surgery.Ishould know.”

What a bitch. I’m about to tell her off for being just that when the manager comes out from the back room.

“Is there a problem here?”

“Yes!” the woman cries and repeats her coffee tragedy for him.

But instead of soothing the woman and offering her another drink and sayingthat’s a stupid order, and these things happen, he lays into Liora.

“Let me see what you put in the computer for her order,” he barks harshly, and Liora, all flushed-faced and flustered, grabs an extra tablet and pulls it up. “I see. It’s in here correctly.”

“Yes,” Liora states. “But I’m the one who made it, and she’s saying I didn’t do half-skim milk.”

“Because you didn’t!” the woman shrieks indignantly. “Are you suggesting I can’t tell the difference between half-skim and all whole milk? I get this order every day.”

“I’m very sorry,” Liora tries again. “I’d be happy to remake your order.”

“Which will come out of your paycheck,” her manager states coldly, and Liora winces as if having to pay for it is worse than getting yelled at publicly by these two assholes. “Errorslike that are unacceptable. I don’t care that you’re new here. Get it right or don’t let the door hit you in the ass on your way out.”

Liora audibly swallows, and I can’t stand this. What the fuck is wrong with people?

“For fuck’s sake, it’s coffee,” I snap, no longer able to stand it. “It’s a cup of coffee. How awful and miserable of a person do you have to be to berate someone for making a simple mistake on a stupid order like that?”

The woman gasps, completely affronted. “Excuse me. This does not concern you.”

“And you.” I point at the manager. “What kind of asshole speaks to their employees that way? There have to be a hundred wrong orders a week at least, and you make her take that out of her paycheck?”

He squints at me. “We do not allow vagabonds in our store. How did you even get in here?”

I laugh. I guess I shouldn’t be shocked he thinks I’m unhoused by my appearance, but damn. I pull out my wallet, slip a fifty from it, and hand it across the counter to Liora, though I am tempted to hand him my black Amex just to see his face. “Here. Pay for the princess’s coffee from this, and you can keep the change again.”

“Um, that’s very nice, but?—”

“I insist.”

Liora takes the fifty and starts to make the woman’s coffee. I stare her boss down until he gets uncomfortable and steps back. “Well, I guess it’s under control now. You should leave after you get your order. As I said, we don’t allow certain types of people in here.”

“Then I’m shocked they allow either of you in.”

Much to my dismay, he doesn’t reply. He’s anxious to go and does, flying through to the back room. Likely because we’ve drawn a bit of an audience.

“And who did you steal that wallet from?” the doctor snips primly.

I round on her, looking at the name on her coffee cup. “What hospital do you work in?”

She straightens her spine, trying for self-importance. “I’m a neurosurgeon at Brigham and?—”

“Not anymore. I know your chief, Luca Fritz, very well. Maybe next time you won’t be so nasty and take your shit out on others simply because you can.”

Liora slides her new drink across the counter to her. “Here you go, ma’am. Sorry for the error.”