Chapter 978: Making An Appointment
Coerced and threatened, I was left with no other choice but to opt for a hot cup of a simple caramel latte.
Yet despite demanding that I do so, Nick still took my order with such deep seething begrudgement, like how dare I order him around like this… so I'm not sure what the hell I'm supposed to do anymore.
Nevertheless, a minute or so later, he was back with my drink and something must have gotten confused with something, because the moment I took a sip, I knew whatever the hell he made sure as shit wasn't a latte.
More like water. Very tangy water. Like maybe he went out back, scooped up a puddle of rainwater, and just added a bit of cream and cocoa powder to pass it off as something worth the five bucks I wasted on it.
I did a double-take at the other patrons nearby, and it was as clear as day I wasn't the only one feeling a tad bit unsatisfied with what we were served. Barely anyone had touched their drinks, or if they were, then the abundance of ripped sugar packets scattered across their table showed a valiant attempt to salvage the unsalvageable.
No one was saying a word about it. Much like me, they've all just simply accepted it rather than confronting a guy twice, maybe even thrice their size. 'Course it's against employee policy to snap customers like a twig should they have any complaints, but with a guy like Nick, the way he looked, acted—sure you wanna take your chances?
The only one who didn't seem to mind this drop in quality was Irene, sipping away as usual without the slightest disinclination to what she was putting in her mouth.
Now I'm just left wondering if she's ever had a palate in the first place. Next time she comes over for her usual, could I just give her whatever? Like, would she even notice the difference?
"Just you today?" I questioned Nick.
"Hayley handed me a leave form yesterday," Nick said, throwing occasional glances at me in between everything he was doing. And from what I can see, he was also doing everything wrong. "Last-minute. No chance to find a replacement. So, yes—just me today."
I felt myself swallow something prickly. Must have been guilt. I assumed Hayley would've gotten me covered.
"Fred?" I said. "Oh, Diane still owes me for covering her last time. Did you try—?"
"If you're so concerned, why don't you get change and just clock in now?" Nick was eyeing me hard again, except now, Irene was also finding herself in his field of view too. "Hayley said it's your birthday today. That you're gonna be busy celebrating. Doesn't look like it to me."
"It's not even ten yet, Nick," I scoffed. "How early do you blow your candles?"
"Exactly. Which is why it makes no sense to me for you not to be back here doing your job."
"Oh, give it a rest already."
That disgruntled tone. The hard edge layered in the words. I wish I could say that that was me who spoke… but in reality, the credit goes to the lady who was beside me, matching Nick's rigid scowl with equal intensity.
"Mr. Leonard, from what I understand you are the manager of this establishment. If you're short-staffed, that's on you to rectify the problem. And you already have, haven't you? You're here, you're doing the job. Him being here doesn't change that. Once again, you are the manager—so manage. Stop bugging your employees."
Other than the shock of Irene suddenly speaking out for me, there was the momentary surprise and reminder that the two of them were already sort of acquainted in a way. After all, it was her that Nick had to go through when he had reported his dad missing all that time ago.
"Believe me, it's not like I'm complaining, Detective," Nick said, his mute expression just the slightest bit fazed. "I'm just wondering why my staff would choose to be here today of all places. And with you of all people."
"You say that as if it's your right to know everything about your employees' private affairs. So you tell me—is it? Do you have the right to know mine?"
"Well, no, but—"
"But? Are you really going to add a 'but' there?" She cut him off. "For your sake, I'll end your sentence there for you and that would be that. Goodbye, Mr. Leonard."
Something was still at the tip of Nick's tongue. But I guess up against someone like Irene, even he knew to think twice before opening his mouth. Nick walked to the other end of the counter without another word and stayed there, fiddling around with the POS system which I'm not even sure he was trained to properly operate.
"Wow…" I went, utterly amazed, but before I could continue on, Irene quickly whipped around toward me, holding that hard glare still.
"And you—" she said, flaring her nostrils like a fire dragon tempering its anger. "—would it kill you to start standing up for yourself for once? How you talk… you would have been going on like that with him for an hour. It's okay to tell people to mind their own damn business if you didn't know."
"That's just Nick being Nick. That's him being friendly, trust me," I tried telling, but she didn't seem too convinced. "What? You worried I'm getting pushed around in my life? Think I might be too frightened?"
"Too kind's more your style," she said, sipping her mug and glowering at me over the rim. "You don't start setting boundaries with people, eventually you're going to wind up with having none at all."
In that aspect of things, she had a good point. I couldn't refute that, nor do I think I could refute any other stuff she could bring up if tried fighting this fight.
"More importantly, I hate seeing people think they can just shove you around," she put her drink down, and I felt a slight rattle on the countertop as she did. "Pisses me off."
"Yep, I can see that," I said, trying and failing to not feel too flattered. "Alright, I'll start putting my foot down on more things than I used to. How's that?"
Irene didn't seem to be satisfied with that just yet. "So long as you know exactly the type of things you need to put your foot down to."
"Maybe. Or maybe I don't, who knows?" I smiled at her. "Have I ever told you how irresistible you look when you're angry? Maybe I might need your help again to do it for me… show me again how it's done."
Oh, there she goes with that 'I'm-too-serious-and-cool-for-that-kind-of-talk' look on her face again. But she's not fooling me with that. It's a pretty convincing mask, I'll give her that. Nevertheless, it's still just a mask. I've slipped under the gaps too many times to count now, to not know what she's got hiding under that exterior.
"Whatever," she said, simply moving on from the whole thing with a slight shift in her seat. "Time with you's precious, and I'm not gonna waste another second of it lecturing you. So let's start again, before we were rudely interrupted—what should we talk about?"
Here we were again with a nice moment all to ourselves while unbeknownst to her, I had an elephant at the door just waiting for my permission to come stampeding in.
I leaned closer against the counter, letting my arm dangle loose over the edge of it, then casually, or at least something resembling that, I said, "Mind if we talked about my dad for a bit?"
Irene didn't give any sort of outward reaction, just a sprinkle of suspicion when she asked, "What about him?"
"I actually met him earlier when I went to pick up my bike…" I thought about starting from there before promptly deciding not to waste any more time beating around the bush. "...remember when I mentioned he wanted to talk to you?"
"Yes, I do," she said, the suspicion in her tone even more prominent now. "I also remember my answer to that. Do you?"
The jig was up. She knew already where I was going with this and it showed. The flap of her folder as she flipped to a page, the way she turned her gaze to the lines on a random section with clear dispassion.
"I do. And he does too," I answered. "He knows, but he still wants to talk to you."
"What for?"
"He… didn't say. I didn't ask, but I get the feeling right now he just needs someone to talk to, y'know? Someone like you."
"Someone like me?"
"We had dinner with Amanda sometime ago," I explained. "One thing led to another, and she wound up having to show him Asteria. You remember Asteria?"
"The game based on Kronocia, yes," Irene let out a long sigh, flipped close her folder once more, and turned back toward me after an even longer blink. From that alone, I could tell she had already pieced the rest of the story herself. "What—is he feeling homesick now? Sentimental? Regretful?"
"I don't know for sure. All I know is—whatever he's got going on, seems like you'd be a big part of seeing him through it so long as you agree to meet with him."
"When? Today?"
"No. No timeframe, I mean he didn't give one… but the sooner the better, right?"
"And it really has to be me? I'm not the only Kronocian still around. Adalia's—"
"Not who he's asking for," I interjected. "Irene, please?"
It was silent for the longest time. Irene, again, kept her emotions muted and stiff. But I've seen under that mask, seen what's really there… and really I knew the fierce battle she was waging under there.
"Fine," she said after a while. "In the evening, after practice—tell him seven. Have him meet us at the place we're training you. Tell him I'll talk to him then."
I let out a small breath, but hearing her heavy reluctance, I didn't want to make light of her choice by smiling. Despite that, I still wanted to convey my gratitude in some way.
"Thank you, Irene," I said. "I know you—"
"No, don't thank me for this. I'm not doing this for you, and I'm certainly not doing this for him alright?" Irene interrupted before downing the rest of her drink with a single gulp. She put her mug down, leaving a frown on her lips… either from the strong bitter flavor of her coffee or something else entirely. "I'm just curious to find out what kind of justifiable reason an individual like himself has got to mope about."