by Rena Marin
“I see you finally made it,” she says as those funky eyebrows raise, and her piercing blue eyes look me over.
“Zeyda didn’t give me a time to be here. She told me to just stop by.” I can’t help but swallow hard. This woman is intimidating as hell, even if she is sitting behind a desk.
“And that’s why I can’t allow Zeyda to run the show around here. She’s more worried about making people happy than getting the job done. If I hire you, and that’s a big if, you’ll need to be on time, no question. Is that understood?”
“Of course.” I mean, tardiness has never been an issue for me but I’m not about to tell that to this heifer from hell.
“We’ll offer you two weeks of training. If you can’t get things down pat in that length of time, you never will. I don’t have time to waste on people who aren’t cut out for being a barista.”
Yes, she gives me the creeps, but I’m not one to stand around and catch shit from anyone. Especially, not a fucked-up cartoon character with by brows.
“I’m not stupid. I’m not lazy, and I damn sure don’t believe in doing a bad job. If you want to hire me, I’ll do my best. If you don’t like that, then it won’t hurt my feelings a bit to go elsewhere.”
A slight smirk lights her face. “You may have what it takes to handle the assholes who roll through here on a regular basis. I like your sass.”
Was she testing me? If so, I can whip out the bitch quickly and win her over.
“People get a real chip on their shoulder when it comes to their coffee. If you toss in a full shot when they wanted a half, they raise hell. You need thick skin to do this. Some of my current workers, well, they aren’t going to make it.”
I fold my arms over my chest and smile. “Honey, I’ve been dealing with holier than thou asshats all my life. There’s no need to worry about me freaking out. If I can get the drinks down, the people don’t scare me a bit.”
“Well then,” she says as she gets to her feet. My eyes widen again. She’s every bit of six feet tall and built like a female body builder. “You’re hired, Zoey. Let’s see how you handle the madness that is French Vanilla Splash.”
Chapter Three
It’s been three days. Three whole days and I already want to kill some of the people of Willow Creek. I’ve known some of these assholes all my life. Never did I imagine they could be such ungrateful jerks when it comes to a fucking cup of joe.
Millie Forrester, who used to babysit me back in the day yelled at Dan, a sweet little guy who can’t talk about anything except his boyfriend and their upcoming wedding, like he was a two-year-old. She told him he should still be in elementary school if he didn’t know his fractions. What the hell, bitch?
Donovan Peters, a friend of my dad’s from way back, threw a latte at Heather, a barely legal twit but nice girl, simply because it didn’t have enough foam. He’s old and may find himself on my list of people it’s alright to eat. Jerk.
Working at Ollie’s, Cherry’s, and Destiny’s told me people could have attitudes, but I’ve never seen something like this. My momma would beat my ass if she heard even a whisper of me acting like these people. I wouldn’t be able to function for weeks.
“They’re assholes.”
I look over at Dan, who’s smiling at me with his perfect white teeth and black lipstick. I can see the nervousness on his face, but he’s giving it his all to keep this job.
“I try to ignore them. If not, I go home miserable, and Paul can’t stand that.”
“I’m used to this stuff, to an extent. I’ve never seen people act this bad though. Makes me wanna launch a frappe at them like a missile.”
He giggles and suddenly everything seems right in the world. Dan is already my favorite. He likes all the same things I do and has a personality that won’t quit. He feels like the little brother I never had or something. Too bad I can’t introduce him to Dick. They would hit it off great.
“I would love to see that, but the Ice Queen would most likely fire you.”
The Ice Queen. Yes, the employees have a nickname for Monique and her always shocked eyebrows. I can’t blame them. She strolls around this place treating them like they’re nothing. I have yet to see her strike up a conversation with anyone other than the manager, Holly. Even then, it is just a few words, then she is back on her rounds through the shop, giving us all that glare she’s so famous for.
“Yeah, well, one thing the Ice Queen will need to learn about me is my lack of give a damn when it comes to impressing her.”
“I love you,” he bubbles as he hugs me tight, then rushes up to the counter as the next customer makes his way toward us.
“Zoey, it’s time for your lunch.”
I look around to see Holly checking the schedules. She isn’t the friendliest person working here, but she’s not bad either. She’s just very focused on the job at hand. I can’t really blame her. Monique would have her ass if she weren’t. From what I understand, Holly really needs the money. She is recently divorced and raising two little ones. She has a reason to kiss ass.
“Gotcha,” I call out to her as I step out from behind the counter and make my way to the back. A quick swipe of my name badge, and I’m officially off the clock for an hour. One thing I do enjoy about this shop is the hour-long lunch breaks. It gives me plenty of time for my special smoothies without the worry of dealing with people while I chow down.
I grab my insulated bag. I found the perfect one at a local shop here in town. Of course, I did an entire blog about how great it was. I even shared the shop info and bragged on the ladies who ran it. From what I’ve heard, their online sales have increased quite a bit. I’m actually gaining an audience. It’s amazing.
Taking a seat on one of the benches, I pull out my smoothie, this one more tame than normal. Fresh sirloin, trimmed well, from Suzy’s shop. A little time in the blender and voila, the perfect zombie protein shake. Too bad it wasn’t some asshole. I admit, I miss human meat. I’m fucking psychotic.
I’m almost ready to enjoy my first sip when a hand snakes around, covering my mouth. The grip is so tight I can’t bite down, which is my first instinct. I leap to my feet, noticing my assailant doesn’t follow suit. This could be what I need. Taking out some random attacker could fill my freezer and keep me held over for a few weeks.
“And you said you would be keeping your guard up.”
Seeing Parker’s face staring at me with that, you lied, bitch, look enrages me. I ball up my fist and pop him directly in the jaw. I know it didn’t hurt him, but his immediate instinct is to rub his jaw and give me his wounded animal look.
“You fucking jerk! Why the hell would you sneak up on me like that?”
“To teach you a lesson. I told you to constantly be watching your back. What if that had been Eli or one of his goons. You would’ve been up shit creek.”
Thoughts are rushing at me a mile a minute. I want to cuss him more. I want to beat his ass. I want to tell him he’s right. I want to tell him he’s a dick. Then what’s really rattling around in my dead brain comes out.
“You’ve heard something, haven’t you?”
He shakes his head “no,” then sighs heavily. “Maybe.”
“What the hell, Parker? What are you hiding from me?”
He steps over to the bench and takes a seat. I can’t deny how happy I am to see him back to his normal self. I know, beneath the jeans and T-shirt there are signs of what Eli did, but to the outside world, he’s simply Parker again. He’s tan, looking hot, and has a great head of hair. Asshole.
“I’m not hiding anything. I’m just not overly confident of my resources. I’ve dropped Eli’s name a few times, you know, trying to see if anyone has heard anything. One chic...”
“That you slept with?”
“Jealous?”
“Uh, no.”
“Right,” he smirks then continues, “Anyway. She claims she saw him a few days ago out behind Cherry’s. The siblings from Satan’s shlong were arguing about money.
Apparently, Cherry was telling him she was tired of keeping him up and him not helping her out anymore. She was bitching about so many workers suddenly quitting or just not showing back up.”
“And you think he’s doing something to them?”
“Maybe. I do keep up with the local news and stuff, Zo. We’ve had a few people reported missing in the last two weeks.”
“People go missing around here all the time. Willow Creek is fucked up.”
“Yeah, I get that, but I do know of two who were former employees of Cherry’s Chillers.”
“Dammit.”
“You still hooking up with that Ethan guy?”
Okay, Parker isn’t usually this nosey. I want to tell him to mind his own damn business, but I have a sneaking suspicion this may be important.”
“From time to time.”
“Be careful. I know he can’t come to your place; Dick and Clyde are there. When you go out to your little rendezvous spot, keep your eyes open. I get he’s a country boy and will shoot first, ask questions later, but Eli’s gang isn’t exactly normal.”
“No shit. That would be fun to try to explain, I guess.”
I don’t want to think about the fact that Eli is still trying to start his own zombie horde. He’s a dumbass. He truly thinks him and a gang of redneck zombies can take over the world somehow. Or at least, Willow Creek. It’s not happening. Not if I have anything to do with it. I’ll sic Clyde on those bastards.
“Just be careful. I wanted you to know he’s showing back up again. That means he’s found a way to get himself put back together and is working on reinforcements. I also want you to realize, not everyone turns like you and I did. Some go a bit, well, feral. That’s what you saw that night at the rescue. Everyone is different.”
“Yeah, if one doesn’t fit in with Eli’s plans, it’s not hard for him to get rid of them.”
“Not at all,” he mumbles. “Or you. He could take you out easy, Zo. You don’t hide away. Keep all that in mind, please.”
“I won’t be pushed out of living, Parker. Well, shit, you know what I mean.”
“I don’t want that for you but sitting on a bench in an alley having a shake isn’t smart. Especially, when you don’t use your senses. They’re enhanced for a reason. Learn that.”
He gets to his feet, leaving his parting words lingering between us. I expect him to say something else like bye or some shit, but he offers nothing. Instead, he grabs my smoothie, has a sip, then wanders off like he was just passing by without the news of my impending doom. He’s such a jerk.
Since the run-in with Eli, talking with Parker always leaves me thinking. I had no idea people have different experiences when they become zombies. I just woke up like this. There wasn’t any Twilight shit where my body died, and I went through hell like that chic who doesn’t know how to smile right. Nope, I woke up dead as hell. That’s it.
Now, can I honestly say the feral urges have never been an issue. No, I cannot. I have fought them more than once. Sex with Parker, no issues. Sex with humans, yes, something in my brain kicks in, and I think of taking a chunk out of them. I think it’s one of the fucked-up things that helps me get off. I haven’t done it yet. I’m always aware enough to stop myself. It makes sense that others may not have that ability.
Anger is another biggie. When I’m pissed off, I’m always thinking of ways I can eat the person without getting caught. I debated making Mason’s new woman into a pot roast for me and Dick. I also thought about the perfect way to rip Cherry’s throat out and dine on Eli’s hot ass when they pulled their shit. I never acted on it though. Well, not ever. Cunt Leader doesn’t count. She deserved what she got.
Back on my feet, I killed off the rest of my smoothie and packed the evidence away in my bag. Man, if the police ever busted me for something, they would think I was the weirdest chic in the world. Then again, I could probably pass it off as some new wave diet. Extreme Keto or some shit.
“Zoey,” Dan calls out from the back entrance. “Come on, we have a rush. I need you, girl.”
I swing my bag over my shoulder and hurry his way. The people who stop by the shop may be assholes, but I’m in my element here. I know how to win over even the bitchiest of people.
Chapter Four
“I’m sorry. Don’t be mad. It’s just too funny.”
I stand in my living room, my work uniform covered in mocha frappe as Dick laughs his head off on his plate. He’s lucky he doesn’t have an ass anymore, or I’d be kicking it right now.
“It’s not funny,” I insist as Clyde wanders over, takes a lick of my shirt, then shakes his head like it tastes terrible. Poor dude, I feel his pain.
“Well, in all reality, it is. You, the queen of customer service. The one everyone loved at Ollie’s. The one who could make people smile at Cherry’s. You even won over a dead goat. But a little old man with a frappe does you in. It’s genius.”
“He didn’t do me in,” I practically growl at him as I tear off my uniform top and stomp toward the laundry room.
I’ve always prided myself in being able to handle customers. It’s always been my thing. I saw how those who come to the coffee shop act, but I never imagined I’d be on the receiving end. Especially, not from a guy.
I tried all the normal tricks when he was upset with the frappe Dan made him. I flirted slightly. I offered to make him another, my special way. I even offered him a wink and a smile. He didn’t give a damn. Instead, he demanded to speak with the manager. Holly tried. It didn’t work. I couldn’t let the transaction go without at least one more attempt at making him happy. One word out of my mouth and the short, bald fucker tossed the frappe at me, not Dan, liked I’d fucked up his entire world.
Slipping out of my matching shorts, I toss my uniform in the wash and load it up. Standing here in my bra and panties I can’t decide if I want to scream, laugh, or cry. Something about French Vanilla Splash is so stressful.
“You okay in there?”
“Fuck off, Dick.”
I hear his laughter carry throughout the apartment. “Seriously, I think Clyde needs feeding. He’s eyeing me again.”
“Maybe I should let him eat you.”
“Let’s not go there, Zo.”
I throw on an old T-shirt, then stomp my way back into the living room just in time to see Clyde climbing up on the ottoman to lick Dick’s face. This goat could care less about live meat or dead meat. It’s all food to him. If he wasn’t well fed, Dick would be chow.
“Come on, Clyde.”
Without hesitation Clyde follows behind me, doing his normal goat hops and jumps. It’s cute as shit. Watching him prance around is enough to make anyone forget about a bad day at work. Screw Mr. Old Balls. I have Clyde.
I pull Clyde out a fresh slab of steak and wander over to the counter. Yes, Clyde is fully able to take on a big chunk of meat, but as his new momma, I insist on cutting his food up into smaller pieces. The last thing I want is him choking or something weird. I’d just die. Again.
“Did the Ice Queen have anything to say about what happened with the customer?” Dick presses.
“She just gave me one of those looks she loves. She knew I didn’t make the frappe. She also knows I like Dan and was trying to help him out. Who knows if the bitch will try to use that against us in some way? She just seems evil like that.”
“You don’t have to stay there, Zo. There are other jobs out there.”
“I know, but you know me; I don’t like feeling defeated. I gotta get this place down and help the others if I can. She shits all over them.”
“Well, you can’t just eat her.”
I grin. “Who says I can’t?”
He laughs and finally, after about twenty minutes of being home, the mood is lightened and the annoyance lifts.
“Claire stopped by earlier. She fed us, of course, but then she mentioned something a bit strange.”
The sound in Dick’s voice immediately sets off alarms in my mind. Claire, like me, was dumb eno
ugh to date Eli. Has he contacted her? Could him and his mindless asshole brigade be giving her shit? “What’s going on?” I finally ask after leaving Mr. Drama hanging for almost an entire minute.
“She asked if you’d heard from your parents lately.”
My parents? Why on earth would Claire ask about them. I mean, she’s been known to ask how they’re doing and things like that, but she knows they’re traveling in that big ass RV thing Dad is so proud of. She’s even been here when Mom’s called in to say hi. My mother loves Claire and is glad I have such a good friend.
“Why would she ask that?”
“I honestly don’t know, but she had an odd look on her face. Almost like she wanted to say more but wouldn’t or couldn’t. You may want to see what’s going on there.”
“I’m on it,” I tell him as I hurry into the bedroom and throw on a pair of shorts. I offer Clyde a pat to the head then quickly dart out into the hall and knock on Claire’s door.
“Hey, Zo.” Claire’s chipper voice and smile greets me as she opens the door and steps back to let me inside. “How was your day at work?”
“Pissy, but Dick seems to think I should be talking to you about my mom and dad?” I didn’t waste any time getting right to the point. Claire knows I’m not one for beating around the bush.
“Well...”
“Claire, come on, what’s up?”
My mom’s friend lives down the same street as your parents. Earlier today Mom called and asked if I would take her a bit of soup and what not since she hasn’t been feeling good. You know how Mom can be.”
Boy did I. Claire’s mom tries her best to be the Mother Theresa of Willow Creek. She’s the sweetest lady ever but will work tooth and nail to make everyone love her. It’s so strange at times.
