His plan would have worked if not for those meddling kids.
Scooby-Doo villain line or not, it’s true. If those stupid middle school kids who came in here every day after school and made a mess of the back tables with their stupid “sugar art” hadn’t come in here and made a mess that he, as shift manager, had to deal with, then he would have been the one to give Zoe her Alex-bought peppermint latte. And all would have gone as planned.
But sadly . . .
“What the hell is this, Eddie?”
Ah, Andi Grenowitz. She’s lovely when she storms into the back supply room/janitor closet in a towering, murderous rage. With an attempt at a disarming grin, Eddie takes the crumpled note she’s waving under his nose and reads it, though he already knows what it says.
“‘I like you a latte.’ Why, Andi Grenowitz,” he says, pressing a hand to his heart. “I like you a latte, too!”
She punches his arm. “I just took this off of Zoe’s drink, numskull.”
Eddie gasps theatrically, tsking her with his tongue and looking disappointed. “The drink Alex bought her? Now, what happened to non-interference? If Alex wants to confess his love in such a way—”
“Don’t play dumb, Gillespie. I may not be Alex Carter’s best friend, but I do know him well enough to know that bad coffee puns? Aren’t his style. Now, you, on the other hand, Mr. Coffee Diem, well, this has you written all over it.”
“Looks like Alex’s handwriting to me,” is all Eddie will say about it. Andi rolls her eyes.
“Yes, you have a bright future as a forger. Your parents must be so proud.”
“Well . . .” Andi rolls her eyes again, but Eddie can tell there’s affection in the gesture. Andi plants her hands on her hips and glares at him.
“The bet is barely a month old, Edward. Do we really need to have a conversation about cheating?”
“First of all, name’s not Edward. Second of all, no.”
“No?”
“No. Because the way I see it, I’m gonna cheat a lot more before this is over, and if you wait and are able to catch me then, you’ll probably get to keep more of my money.”
He watches her eyes narrow from the corner of his eye as he continues filling his mop bucket. He’s taking a risk, he knows, openly admitting to cheating and confessing his intention to absolutely do it again, but he’s got Andi’s measure. The girl is as devious and scheming as he is. After a moment, she speaks.
“You realize, if you admit to future cheating, then I’m going to have to resort to cheating, too. Just to even the playing field.”
Eddie grins and turns to her. “Then may the most creative cheater win.” And he holds out his hand to her. Andi takes it, but rather than shaking, she jerks him closer to her so she can whisper, with menace, “I catch you at it, I’m still kicking your ass out of the betting pool.”
“Likewise. But you won’t catch me. I am a master of loopholes.”
She smirks. “Likewise. So may the most creative loophole exploiter win. And of course, we let no one else in on this second tier of the betting pool.”
“Of course not. They’re chumps. We take their money and leave ‘em in the dust.”
Andi smiles and pumps his hand up and down. “Deal.”
Eddie folds his hands together in front of him and bows to her. “You are a worthy competitor, Andi-san.” Andi rolls her eyes.
“You’re such a dork,” she says, reaching around him for more napkins.
“And you love me,” he says with a waggle of his eyebrows.
“And your mop bucket’s overflowing,” she observes. He frowns at her for moment, confused. Then her words sink in. Either that, or the water suddenly soaking his shoes clues him in. With a yelp, he turns, hastily shutting the water off and trying to shake his high tops dry. When he turns around, Andi is gone.
Later, when he’s finished mopping up the sugar residue and is taking the bucket and mop back to the closet, he catches a soft breath of laughter from her as he passes. “What?” he asks.
“‘I like you a latte,’” she mutters. He grins.
“You love my coffee puns and you know it.”
“Ha! What were you even thinking? You know nothing’s gonna happen before Christmas. That’s why you didn’t take any days until Christmas!”
He leans on the mop and shrugs, still grinning. “Well, yeah, but I snagged this Saturday because no one else had, and I figured on the off chance we’re wrong, the money might as well go to me as opposed to all of us. Then he came in and bought her the drink, so I thought, you know, might as well go for it.”
She shakes her head, still grinning. As he pushes through the swinging door, he hears her mutter again, “I like you a latte . . .”
“Just jealous you didn’t think of it first!” he calls back over his shoulder.
Another derisive “Ha!” follows him back to the closet, but it can’t dampen his smile.