THE PROSPECT: Chapter Three

Chapter Three

One Year Ago

Tricia

Clutching my sad resume in my hands, I walked into the Harrison Street Crew Coffee shop that was next to the garage that the local car club ran. They were a rough crowd. Always had been.

Everyone in our neighborhood has always warned us away from hanging out with any of the members. They were a glorified gang, though God help the person who said that to their face.

A beautiful woman who looked just a little older than me met me at the door with a warm smile on her face. “Hi there, I’m Priya, the manager. You must be Tricia?”

I gave my best smile which was also faker than the tits of the model posing in the car calendar on the wall. “That’s me!” I said, my voice just a little too shrill.

“Relax,” Priya said. “They’re not so scary. I promise. C’mon in. Let me make you a coffee. Latte okay?”

“Uh… sure.” I cleared my throat and sat at the counter as she bounced behind it and immediately got to work grinding some beans for me.

“You ever worked in a coffee shop before?”

I stared down at my nearly blank resume and gulped. “Not… exactly.”

Priya arched a dark brow in my direction. “What does that mean?”

“It means that I’ve spent the last ten years being the first one awake in my house and brewing coffee for me and my family.” I gave her a smile that I hoped was cute.

Lucky for me, she laughed. “Please don’t tell me it was a Keurig.”

“Nope. French press most days. Sometimes on weekends, I got fancy with the pour over coffee for them.”

She placed a small metal cup beneath a tiny spout and steamed milk. “Well, that’s something at least,” she shouted over the screaming sound of milk frothing. “Any waitressing experience?” I shook my head. “Retail? Ever used a Point of Sale system?”

Again, I shook my head. “I helped my mom at the Christmas craft fair every year?” I offered weakly.

Priya pressed her lips together tightly.

“Look, you’re a sweet kid. I like you. But when Patrick comes in here to conduct the interview, you have to sell yourself better than this.”

My face blanched. “Wait… you’re not conducting the interview?”

She shook her head. “I get to weigh in on who they hire, but ultimately, it’s up to them.”

“But… but how do I do that?”

Priya shrugged. “These guys are funny, sometimes. You just gotta win them over, ya know? Go big or go home. Find something, even the tiniest thing only you can offer and show them that.”

Almost on cue, the door swung open and in walked a hulking man with bright eyes and curly dark hair.

“Patrick,” Priya said. “This is one of our applicants for the barista position. Meet Tricia Jenkins.”

“Tricia,” he said, his voice deep and gruff. “That your resume?”

I nodded, throat tight and handed it over to him.

Looking it over, he exhaled a sound that was half-scoff, half-laugh. “This it?”

I caught Priya’s eyes beside me. Go big or go home. I’d lived among the Harrison Street Crew my whole life. I knew how they talked. I knew their humor.

“Unfortunately, yes,” I admitted. “But, I make the best latte you’ve ever had. It’s smooth and so creamy, you’ll feel like you’re drinking from your mom’s tit.”

Holy. Shit.

Did I just say that?

Priya’s eyes went wide beside me.

Patrick’s brows lifted, disappearing behind the flop of curls on his forehead. “Okay, then. Make me a titty latte. Actually… make two. My prospect’s coming inside in a minute and after the year of celibacy we tortured him with, he could use a titty latte, too.”

“You make your prospects be celibate?”

With a smirk, Patrick shrugged as I slipped behind the counter beside Priya. “Hazing, you know?”

I guess. Didn’t make much sense to me, though.

Good God. The espresso machine was huge and way more complicated than the little one Jenna’s parents had at their house.

Okay, it had to be generally the same idea, right? I’d just seen Priya make one.

I grabbed the scoop handle and added some ground espresso in when Priya caught my gaze. She was trying to tell me something… her chin inclined to another stamp looking apparatus.

Oh, right. I needed to tamp the coffee first.

Thank God for Priya.

I finished up the espresso portion of the lattes, then got to work steaming the milk, careful not to scald it, and creating enough foam at the top for the part of my masterpiece that would surely win him over—the art design on top. I couldn’t describe why, but I was damn good at creating designs in the foam.

A weird gift of mine, I supposed.

As I poured the milk into the lattes, I moved the spout around until in each cup, there were two perfectly drawn breasts… nipples and all.

As hard as I’d been focusing, I didn’t hear the bells chime as the prospect entered.

Beaming, I slid the two mugs across the counter, eagerly waiting to see what Patrick thought of my x-rated creation.

With a barking laugh, he clapped his hands. “I didn’t realize you meant it literally when you said you could make a titty latte!”

“Kiddo, check this out!”

I didn’t see the newly arrived Prospect standing there beside him until that moment.

I froze, my gaze meeting the icy blue eyes of Miles.

Or rather, Kiddo.

The guy who haunted my dreams almost every night.

“Tricia, this is our Prospect, Kiddo,” Patrick said, clapping him on the back.

Kiddo looked almost as stunned as I was to see him there.

“Here,” Patrick said, sliding the latte over to him. “Drink up!

Blinking, Kiddo looked down into the cup, then back again at me. “You made boob lattes?”

“Isn’t it great?” Patrick said. “We’re putting this shit on the menu. The guys will love it. You’re hired, Tricia!”

Still laughing, Patrick took his latte to go, strolling out the door back toward the garage.

“You’re one of them now?” It was the only question I could bring myself to ask.

His glare hardened, narrowing at me. “Got news for you… you are too, now.”

Keep reading Chapter 4 here! ---> https://www.patreon.com/posts/prospect-chapter-75972826