April Loves Black Coffee: First Impressions by T.B. Solangel Read Free Book Online

Joolie stops fixing her hair and lowers her voice. A look of secrecy and fixation crosses her face. Joolie leans against the sink and watches me clean my shoes. “A Crist member. Have you heard of them?”
    “No,” I answer shortly. I continue running my hands up and down the soles of my shoes. “What does it matter, anyway?” Son and Joolie have the same look in their eyes when they talk about Crist members.
    “Hah!” Joolie lets out a scoff as though she can’t believe my ignorance. “A Crist member visited The Trax, May. Even if you don’t know, you should at least understand that we are going to be getting a little more popular. Think of it as a celebrity going to eat at an unknown restaurant. Pretty soon, everyone will want to eat at that restaurant too!”
    I stop wiping my shoes to look at Joolie. I am not oblivious to the world around me, but brushing up with a gang member sounds like bad news. Joolie sees it from a publicity perspective while I regard it as a bad omen. “Son kicked him out. It’s a bad omen to have him here.”
    “What the hell does Son know?” Joolie snaps adamantly. “You can’t keep a Crist member from going anywhere he wants! No. Super-Gorgeous-Sexy has his reasons for coming here twice in two weeks. He’s planning something.”
    Hmm. Is Joolie onto something? “I think he just came back tonight to have a drink. He seemed upset over something. He probably got drunk to forget what he really needs to deal with,” I reply with what I believe is an insightful comment.
    “Uh huh.” Joolie nods her head for a moment, but then changes her mind as she shakes her head in the opposite direction. “Nah. He has an ulterior motive for coming here. Probably wants protection money from the club.”
    “Well, whatever he is here for has nothing to do with you or me.” I throw the dirty towels in the trash can and wash my hands again.
    Joolie’s cell phone lights up in her bag at the same moment, playing an upbeat electronic dance music anthem. Joolie gives me a playful push as she heads out the bathroom with her cell phone in hand. “You might think I’m crazy, but there’s a reason why he was here last week and again tonight. Good night May. Sweet Dreams. Don’t let the gangster bite!”
    Before she exits, Joolie marks her right hand across her upper body to create the symbol of a Cross.
    Did she really just do that? “Good night Joolie.” I feel incredulous from her exit display. Joolie knows how to rile things up.
    I do my best to ban my thoughts about the night and Brown Eyes. I spend another five minutes in the bathroom cleaning myself up. When I finally decide there is nothing more I can do, I head straight to the employee’s room. I change into my regular clothes. I end up wrapping my work uniform in a plastic bag. Ever the light traveler, I tie the plastic bag around the strap of my worn-out tote bag. 
    Most of my co-workers are already gone when I head out of the front door. There is only one way in and one way out for Trax employees and customers. It is some sort of policy implemented for this kind of establishment. Son told me once that it is easier for police to keep track of people coming in and out with only one front door. Again, this is just one of the stringent staples that comes with working at a place like The Trax.
    “Good night May!”
    “Get home safe!”
    “Good night!” I wave to a couple of co-workers who are still lingering around.
    The cool summer air greets me as soon as I exit The Trax. The Trax is at basement level; grand steps lead up to street level. These steps are usually not a problem, but after tonight, my legs threaten to give in with every step I take.
    I take in a deep breath and inhale sweet, fresh air once I reach street level. I pull the strap of my tote bag higher on my shoulders and begin my trek towards the nearest bus stop. I am off-work mode, daydreaming about my warm bed and maybe a glass of milk before sleep. Coffee is a long,