"Crap."
Olivia tossed an empty carton of almond milk in the recycling bin. The morning rush at the coffee shop depleted their current supply, as well as the new seasonable syrups. Unfortunately, when things were moving at a crazy pace, it wasn't always easy to replenish and standing on her toes would not solve the problem. Pondering which doofus kept all the extra containers in the upper cabinet — a full seven inches higher than what her fingers could reach. It happened every time during her shift. Her gene pool was failing her and of course, heels weren't an option.
As much as she didn't want to bother anyone, like clockwork, she would ask one of the other baristas, "Can someone get—?"
Before she could finish, an long arm reached above her head, quickly setting down two cartons and a huge bottle she had requested.
"Thanks," she mumbled, rushing off to complete the orders.
The tall one always came to the rescue.
It was her turn to open the store. It was her least favorite day of the month, but that's what she had to do as a team member. Besides, once her shift was done at 11:30, she could sleep for the next 36 hours if she wanted to. Olivia put on her glasses when she noticed something unusual.
A stool.
With hearts.
And in a sloppy cursive font, her name.
She thought it was a practical joke; the crew always found her dilemma amusing, to which she would respond with two middle fingers. It was a distraction and a reminder, so moving it out of sight was the best option.
When everyone began their shifts, she casually asked, "Did you do this?"
Every answer was the same. "Nope."
The first rush arrived. Pacing back and forth, cranking the espresso machines, adding flavors and milk. Giving each drink a special touch. She was on her game. An hour later, she needed more lemonade mix. Olivia turned to the back counter and realized they were out. Not wanting to make a scene, she left to get the stool, pushing it against the wall. It was tall enough so she could get anything she needed.
What an improvement.
On her fourth try with the stool, she heard a familar voice.
"Good work, Pope."
Olivia stepped down, narrowing her eyes at Fitz, standing a few feet away, arms crossed, with a generous smirk on his face. Of course, they always worked together and he was the one person she hadn't asked. Quite a constant at the bar. At least, that's all she noticed, other than his beautiful eyes and physique.
"Was it you?"
He grinned, taking the container, pouring the liquid into a tall plastic cup. "Yeah."
"Is that so?"
"Mmhmm. You needed it, so I got it. Who else is going to help if I'm not here?"
Staring the espresso machine, Olivia smiled to herself, then locked eyes with him.
"Touché. Thank you."
The prompt was from Tumblr: "We're both baristas and sometimes I have trouble reaching for things and I show up to work one day to find a personalized stool with hearts and my name on it i hATE YOU but also thanks" - Thanks for reading! ore short drabbles and one-shots will be coming this week. xo