Read Online Getting Over Garrett Delaney by Abby McDonald - Free Book Online Page A

the staff here were all the best of friends. It sure seemed that way from my vantage point at the back table, watching them laugh together across the room. But after listening to LuAnn talk about Carlos, and Dominique talk about … well, just about everyone else, I can see they’re really more like family — the big, dysfunctional kind that fights over everything and doesn’t care what each other thinks.
    “Josh!” LuAnn yells, pulling her hair back into a twisty bun that she secures with a couple of pencils.
    He pops his head out and affects a low southern drawl. “Yes, ma’am?”
    “Get this girl some sustenance before she passes out.”
    “Really, I’m fine,” I say, embarrassed, but LuAnn is in full flow.
    “Fetch a chair! Find some water!” she cries, dancing around the small space. “We don’t want the child-labor people beating down our door for exploitation again!”
    I cringe, but Josh just laughs along.
    “Look, she’s pale with malnutrition.” LuAnn squeezes one of my cheeks. “Make her one of those fantastic BLTs.”
    “Um, actually, I don’t eat bacon,” I pipe up awkwardly. “Or ham. Or, you know, any pork products, really… .” I trail off.
    Josh throws a dishcloth at LuAnn. “And the award for cultural insensitivity goes to …”
    She smacks her forehead. “Jewish! Man, I’m sorry!”
    “It’s OK,” I say quickly, burning up now. “Really. I don’t even keep full kosher — it’s just a habit, I guess.”
    Finally, Dominique looks up. “Leave the poor child alone,” she tells them. I smile at her, grateful for some support, but then she adds, “If she quits on us, I’ll have to take her shift tomorrow.”
    Charming.

Chapter Seven
     
    With the Beast just about tamed and my magical Post-its marking the route to coffee utopia, my first week at work soon slips into a steady rhythm of grind, pour, froth, and serve.
    “I even made twenty whole dollars in tips,” I tell Garrett as I clutch the phone between my ear and shoulder and shimmy into some jeans on Saturday morning.
    He laughs, his voice clear and strong even a hundred miles away. “Big tippers, huh? Don’t go spending it all at once.”
    “I have to.” I sigh. “I’ve nearly ruined all my cute outfits with coffee grounds. I don’t know how Amélie didn’t wind up with cappuccino foam all over her dresses.”
    “It sounds like you’re having fun, hanging out with all these new people.”
    “I am,” I agree. I hesitate, then say casually, “I wish you could meet them all. You’d get a kick out of LuAnn, she’s the one with red hair. She’s great.”
    “I keep thinking the same with people here,” he says. “My bunkmates are probably sick of hearing about you. It’s ‘my friend Sadie’ all the time.”
    Delight dances in my chest. See, he’s thinking about me. He’s
talking
about me! But before I can find out exactly what he’s been saying, Garrett sighs.
    “Look, I’ve got to get to a workshop.” He sounds regretful. “Will you be around later? I’ve got a ton of stuff to tell you.”
    “Yes!” I cry. “I mean, sure, just call anytime.”
    “Great, later then.”
    He hangs up, and although I’m tempted to just mooch around the house for the rest of the day until he calls back, my poor, coffee-stained wardrobe is calling out for reinforcements, so I grab the keys to Mom’s car and drive out of town thirty minutes to the looming concrete vista of the Hadley mall. I usually try to stay away from this place — Garrett calls it a soulless temple to modern capitalism — but my budget limits my options.
    I’m browsing the department store bargain basement when a familiar face appears from around the next aisle.
    “Sadie? Hey!”
    “Kayla.” I pause, embarrassed. She’s looking cute and shiny as always, in jeans and a snap-front plaid shirt.“Um, hi.”
    “Hey!” She beams, her blond hair falling in effortless waves. Effortless for her, anyway — she was born without the dreaded