Beautiful Failure by Mariah Cole Read Free Book Online Page A

you in the past?”
    He laughs. “You have a very smart mouth.”
    “Pay me enough and I’ll show you what I can really do with it.”
    He raises his eyebrow. “ Excuse me ?”
    I don’t back down. That’s one of Leah’s old lines—it used to net her an easy four hundred bucks, and I’ve often wondered what would happen if I ever used it.
    “Are you propositioning me to pay you for a blowjob?”
    “Is that what it sounds like?”
    “It does.” He smirks. “It also sounds like you’re full of shit.”
    I blink, and then I burst into laughter. “It was a joke.”
    “So you are a child?”
    I roll my eyes and stand up. “Whatever. Enjoy your coffee.” I walk away without letting him get another word out.
    Sexy as hell or not, I don’t need an unnecessary distraction; I need to focus on getting out of this city.
    Over the next few weeks, he comes in every day—at the exact same time, ordering the exact same coffee. He always lets his fingers linger against mine for a few extra seconds after I hand him his cup, and he always asks me a random question after he does his customary test sip: “What’s your favorite color?” “Are you having a good day?” “Why haven’t you quit yet?”
    I almost start looking forward to seeing him every day—until he stops coming altogether.

Chapter 4
    I t’s raining again.
    The days of bright sunshine and cloudless skies that I’ve been enjoying at the bistro are no longer here. They’ve been replaced with ominous gray skies, wild winds, and a torrential downpour.
    The bistro is closed until later tonight—when the storm is supposed to pass, but the manager wants me to show up anyway. He says he needs to talk to me one on one about some new employee procedures.
    It takes me a few minutes to realize that I still don’t know his name, so I look it up online before I head out.
    Mr. Wes...Mr. Wes...Mr. Wes...
    As I pull into the parking lot, I notice that there is only one car here: A gray pickup truck.
    I park my car right next to it and pull out my phone—ready to call and ask why no one else is around. Before I can hit the call button, there’s a tapping on my window and I roll it down.
    “Yes?” I see Mr. Wes holding a poncho over his head. “Why is no one else here?”
    “Can I sit inside your car?”
    “Go ahead.”
    He reaches inside my car and pulls the button up to unlock it. Then he slips inside, getting water all over my seat. After he rolls the window up, he turns to face me and sighs. “I’m going to have to let you go, Emerald.”
    “ What ?”
    “I was running the numbers yesterday. You logged five hundred orders of coffee last week, but the amount of receipts don’t reflect that...I did some investigating and found that you were letting forty percent of the patrons get their coffee for free.”
    “Are you fucking kidding me?”
    He clears his throat, clearly taken aback by my language. “You also told ten different customers to ‘fix it your fucking self’ when they asked you to remake their coffee. That’s against company policy. Now,” he says as he shifts in the seat, “I’m really good friends with your grandmother so I won’t tell her about this if you won’t. I’ll put in a good word for you at the soup kitchen or something and tell her you decided to go the volunteer route, or—”
    “Get the fuck out of my car. Now.”
    “Emerald...” He sighs and places his fat hand over mine. “It’s not personal, but we do sell coffee and expect good customer service for a reason . I need someone who is going to—”
    “Do you think this is the first job I’ve been fired from?” I yank my hand away from his grasp. “ It’s not , so you can save me your shitty pep talk. It’s not personal ,” I mock him, “but you could’ve told me this shit over the phone and I could’ve saved my goddamn gas. Out .”
    He shakes his head, whispering something that sounds like “I’ll pray for you” and steps out of my car.
    I shut my