Whatever It Takes

You had been managed the coffee shop for about a year now. It wasn’t anything fancy, just a small Mom and Pop coffeehouse that you had stumbled across after moving to Vancouver. You had stopped in for a quick caffeine fix while continuing your job hunt, trying not to leave your son with your mom for too long, and noticed that they were hiring.

The interview happened then and there where Monica Goddard hired you on the spot, asking if you could start the next day.

It wasn’t a glamorous job, half the time you went home beyond exhausted by the number of people who would behave rudely because you couldn’t have their complicated drink order ready at the snap of finger, but it paid the bills and kept food on the table.

The clock read a little after nine o’clock in the evening, which meant that it was time to lock the doors and finish up mopping before heading home to tuck D into bed. You knew that he had to have been harassing the poor babysitter for five more stories to postpone falling asleep.

Smiling, you were too focused on the dried coffee stain that needed some elbow grease to notice that someone was standing in front of the shop’s door, knocking gently at first, but then the rhythm pick up more quickly and frantically.

“Seriously?” You glanced up and saw the silhouette of a man, waving to get your attention. You marched closer to the door and pointed to a sign that held the stores hours. “We’re closed.”

In the darkness that was enveloping the outside, you could make out the man shake his head and point to the door handle repeatedly. Sighing, you decided that maybe he couldn’t properly hear you and needed to be told off a little more up close and personal – so against your better judgement, you unlocked the door and poked your head out.

The man quickly pushed his way in and locked the door behind him, making you suddenly nervous since you were the only one in the shop. He was bent over like he was catching his breath, but that didn’t stop you from clutching the mop in cause of needing to use it as a weapon.

“Um, sir,” you paused, deciding to brave a step closer. “I was just trying to tell you that we are closed.”

“I know,” he panted out, his voice sounding deep and a tad strained. “I just needed a place to duck down for a bit.”

“A place to duck -” You paused when the man looked up at you, his green eyes pleading with you not to kick him out. Your breath caught a bit when you registered who was crouched over in front of you at that moment.

He seemed to stare at you for a bit, trying to decide if you were going to give him the boot or let him stick it out. With a heavy exhale, you nodded towards one of the unstacked barstools and decided not to freak out about one of your favorite actors asking you for a favor.

Hearing the stool scratch the floor, you focused back on your mopping, realizing that you were going to probably have to go over the floors once more before you left. “I’d offer you a snack, but -”

“You’re closed,” the green-eyed man finished offering you a sorrowful smirk. “Ah, um, I’m Jensen, by the way. Figured if we are going to be stuck with each other for a bit, we may as well have a conversation.”

You nodded your head, still focusing on the floor at your feet – that coffee stain was really stuck on the tile. “I’m Lydia.” You glanced at the clock, seeing that you should have been out of there by now. “Are you waiting for someone to pick you up?”

“Um, not exactly, just waiting for certain group of people to be out of my way,” Jensen explained. You caught him running a hand through his slightly disheveled hair when you stole a glance. “I didn’t mean to just come barging in here like I did.”

Shrugging, you decided to move on to another part of the floor. “I’m sure hiding out just comes with your line of business.”

You heard him take a sharp inhale at your words. “So then I guess you knew who I was without me having to introduce myself then, huh?”

A smirk appeared on your lips as you looked up at him, holding onto the mop that it was a pole of support to lean on. “It’s kind of hard to not know who you are in this neck of the woods.”

“Damn,” you heard him mutter before letting out a small laugh. “Just my luck.”

You scrunched your eyebrows over at him, not quite sure what to make of what he just said. “I’m sorry, would you like me to scream and fangirl over you like,” you peek out the window to up the street where a hoard of girls was heading your way. “A typical blonde woman?”
“What!” His eyes got wide while you smirked and continued to eye the girls as they glided closer to where you guys were hiding. “No! I was... I was just hoping for once I could run into someone who didn’t know who I was.”

Nodding, you turned your focus back to the floor, thinking about what he had just said. You knew what it was like to want to not have to run into people who would know your story – hell that was one of the biggest reasons you picked up your life and left for Vancouver. You needed a fresh start, a break from the havoc life had thrown at you.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, as you heard the stool start to slide back. “I didn’t mean for that to come out so harsh.”

You shook your head in his direction, finishing up mopping in the seating area away from the bar and making your way back towards the counter, deciding to give up on making the place look spotless. You were going to be there in less than twelve hours anyway. “Don’t be sorry, I know what you meant.”

“Well,” you felt his eyes on you, almost like he was studying you. “I’m also sorry that you are still here right now, stuck with me.”

You laughed, heading back towards the mop bucket and sliding it to the sink to be emptied. “I don’t feel stuck. Those girls should pass in about ten minutes or so and we can be on our separate ways.”

Using all the strength you had, you hoisted the bucket up, balancing it on the edge of the sink, watching as the dirty water made its way down the drain. It was oddly soothing to watch. The two of you remained quiet as the group of girls made their way past the shop, making the coffeehouse seem more tranquil than it usually was.

After double checking that you had locked everything up and it had all been put away to make for an easy opening, you turned towards the door only to practically bump into Jensen. “Oh,” you squeaked out, surprised that he was still there and hadn’t snuck out.

“Sorry,” he smirked down at you while taking a step back. “I just wanted to say, ‘thank you’ before heading out.”

“It wasn’t a problem,” you answered, suddenly shy again which caused you to chew on your bottom lip. “You can always hide out here when you need it.”

You stepped around him, trying to focus on finding your keys in your bag while the both of you slipped out the door. You could feel Jensen still behind you, almost shielding you from the rest of the world around them. It was making you nervous to have him this close to you.

When you turned around, he was still looking at you intently. “I may have to take you up on that.”