Keep the Change

[Charlotte]

   

“Another day, another dollar,” I whisper to myself as I try to wiggle out of the bed I share with my twin daughters, Raine and Rose. It’s 7 o’clock, time for me to start my morning. Looking at my sweet angels I place a kiss on each forehead.

   

Raine’s eyes blink open. “Mama, where are you going?”

   

“Work, sweet girl,” my finger brushes a stray hair from her eyes. “You go back to sleep. Auntie Juni will take care of you until Ms. Lacey comes to watch you.”

   

“Love you, Mama,” she yawns as she snuggles into her sister’s back. I take a deep breath as she lets me go. It looks like today is going to be an easy day. Sometimes she starts crying when I leave. Those mornings are always rough.

   

Juni is standing at the breakfast bar with some microwaved pancakes and a cup of fresh coffee. I skip the coffee, I’ll have enough of that at work, but I snatch a pancake from her plate.

   

“Get your own, you vulture,” she laughs at me. “There are plenty in the freezer.”

   

“No time,” I swipe another, shoving it into my mouth before she can protest. Juni already knows I’m a brat, but she forgives me almost instantly. We aren’t blood-related, but we’ve been friends for about forever. Some bonds are much deeper than blood.

   

“Are you sure you don’t mind watching the girls for another hour?” I check. “The babysitter should be here by 8:30.”

   

“Not a problem,” she yawns.

   

“You are a saint,” I praise her. “I hope you know how much I appreciate you.”

   

“About that,” her smile grows a little darker. “You know I love you, and I love your girls but…I’m going to need a little help covering the mortgage this month.”

   

I dig around in my purse until I find the envelope of bills. When I find it, I hand her my tips from last night. “I know it is not enough I...?”

   

She sighs deeply. “Are you still looking for another job? I know you aren’t happy at the coffee shop and…” Her voice trails off. She doesn’t need to finish the sentence. I know she needs me to find a better-paying job, and soon.

   

“I have a few leads,” I remember the business card from last night. What if the job offer was real?

   

“I’m sorry it isn’t more,” I apologize, looking at the sadly empty envelope. “I know you’re putting your neck out there for us to take us in like this and I appreciate everything you are doing, especially with how you are helping with my girls.”

   

“I wish I could do more,” she looks down at her hands. “But if you cannot find more regular work, I might need to find someone to rent your room,” she is having a hard time looking at me, her gaze flicking back and forth from me to her plate, “I have a medical assistant who lives in Oakland who might need a new roommate next month and…”

   

“Do what you need to,” I walk toward the door. “Don’t worry about it. I understand. You’ve already done more than enough for us.”

   

Rushing to get to the bus stop, I arrive just in time to catch the express into town. I cannot afford to be late.

   Running from the bus stop, I make it to the café with ten minutes to spare before the start of my shift. Perfect. Heading straight for the locker room, I stow away my bag, grab my apron, and sweep my ponytail into a sensible bun before placing my visor with the company logo and the words “Coffee Matters” embroidered in block letters.

   

Closing the locker door, My boss, Ricky, is standing on the other side, staring at me with his arms crossed. His greasy brown hair is pulled away from his face  and the pimples on his cheeks and neck stand out as his skin begins to flush. “You’re late, Charlie.”

   

I flinch at the unwanted nickname. “My watch says I have 3 more minutes until the start of my shift.”

   

“On time is late,” he insists. “In the coffee business, you always need to be 10 minutes early.”

   

I am about to say something snarky but then close my mouth. I need this job, damn it.

“Sorry Sir,” I bow my head. “It won’t happen again.”

   

Smirking at me as I approach the door, he stands in the way, not letting me pass. “Excuse me, Sir. I need to start my shift.”

   

He moves over just enough for me to have to rub up against him to ease out the door. Feeling the hardness in his pants against my hip as I try to brush past him makes me want to vomit, but I try to ignore it as I head to my station.

   

Relieving Tiffanie, an adorable blond college student working the drive-thru window, she gives me her headset and whispers “Good luck,” as she heads to the locker room.

   

Giving myself a little shake, I take my position. 9 o’clock exactly. Take that, Ricky!

   

My first customer of the morning rolls up to our menu.

   

“Welcome to Coffee Matters, where every cup is important. What can I get started for you today?”

   

The voice behind the speaker asks for a variety of coffee drinks, easily enough to supply an entire office staff.

   

“That’ll be $31.57,” I recite as I total up the cost and send the order to our barista. “Please pull up to window number three.”

   

Closing my eyes for a moment, I attempt to rub away a stress headache. I still have 6 hours ahead of me. It’s going to be a long day. Smiling my brightest smile, I lean out the window to receive payment from the customer.

   

A sleek, black SUV pulls up to the window. It rolls by at a snail's pace, not stopping until the back seat is level with my station. The back window slowly descends. Sitting in the back seat is my mystery man from the night before. Micah, his card said his name was Micah McKaine. I wonder if "Kane" is just his nickname.

   

Pretending not to know him, I repeat the final cost. “It’ll be 31.57.”

   

“I didn’t come for coffee,” he explains. “I came to pick you up for your job interview. You’re late.”

   

“I am not late,” I whisper harshly, hoping nobody notices this conversation. “I said no, there’s a difference.”

   

He smirks. “I thought I’d give you another chance to make the right choice.”

   

I exhale loudly. “If you aren’t here for your order, I’m going to have to ask you to move along, Sir.” I put a hard emphasis on the last word, hoping he’d get the hint that he was interfering with my job.

   

He leans forward, and pulls a single bill out of his wallet, and hands it to me.

   

It’s a one-hundred-dollar bill.

   

“I’m sorry, Sir, but we are unable to accept bills of this size at this time,” the grin I have plastered onto my face becomes painful as I stretch it even tighter. “We cannot take bills larger than $50.”

   

“Then keep it, I don’t need the money. Use it to pay for your day off from work. Pretend you’re suddenly sick. Or better yet, quit,” he looks around at my surroundings sneering. “You’re better than this, and I have a job for you.”

   

Unimpressed by his arrogance, I hand the money back to him. “I’m sorry sir, but that would violate our current employee policies,” I explain, “But we take credit and debit as well.”

   

“Is there a problem,” Ricky appears behind me. I’m not sure how long he’s been standing there, but his face is red.

   

“No, Sir” I cringe as he moves closer, his hardened member resting against my hip again. I try to ignore it and just move myself out of his reach. “I was just explaining our company policies to this customer.”

   

“Did you see the line,” he leans into me again. I try to mask my disgust but I think I’m not succeeding because Ricky’s expression turns cold. “Just give this man what he wants.”

   

I look down and see Micah isn’t smiling anymore.

   

He’s seething.

   

“No need, Mrs. Slate,” he folds his original bill along with another bill into my hand. “This is for you. I don’t need the coffee after all.”

   

He then drives away without another word.

   

“Bella, take Charlie’s spot,” he yanks the headset from my face. “Charlie come with me, we need to talk.”

   

He leads the way to the locker room, marching with as much command as his scrawny frame can manage. I find myself growing angry as well as I follow him, thinking about what Micah did just now. Why can’t that man take “no” for an answer?

   

As soon as we enter the break room, Ricky reaches behind me and locks the door.

   

“So Charlie,” his voice is as slick and greasy as oil. “What was that between you and that customer? Two hundred dollars seems like a VERY big tip for a cup of coffee that he didn't even want.”

   

“There’s nothing between me and that customer.” I insist. “I don’t even know him.”

   

“Strange, because he

seems to know you,” his breath smells foul, like stale coffee and cheap cigarettes. “Is that how much it costs to get to know you, Charlie? Two hundred dollars?”

   

“I’m sorry for getting distracted at work,” I apologize. I need this job so much. “Please," I plead, "Can I please return to work?”

   

“No,” he snaps, pushing into the front of my body with his hardness. “If you want to keep this job, you need to show me a little more appreciation and respect. His hand comes to rest on my hip, slowly moving lower.

   

“Stop, Ricky,” I try to move away, but he boxes me in with his other arm. “This isn’t right.”

   

“Oh, I know you won’t tell anyone,” he smirks. “Because I know you need this job. You’re desperate for it.” His hand reaches around to the button on my waistband.

   

“I said stop, Ricky,” I try to push him away, but he doesn’t move.

   

“Is it about the money,” he pulls out a wad of bills from a back pocket and places it into my hand forcibly. “Consider it a pay advance.”

   

My head bangs into the metal of the lockers as forces his tongue down my throat, his crotch now rubbing up and down against my front while his hands try to reach past my panties and…

   

Something in me snaps.  I bite down hard on his tongue while kneeing him in the crotch. In minutes, he’s squirming on the ground, his mouth bleeding.

   

What did I just do?!