Chapter 2 The Daily Hustle

I only had to take one metro and one bus to reach the hospice care home where I worked in Westwood. It surrounded a pleasant residential neighborhood, separated from the Fortune 500 companies on the other side by a grove of covered trees and a million home-brewed coffee shops. Despite Sophia's ranting, I was able to catch the early bus, which gave me enough time to drop into my favorite of these businesses before my shift began at ten.

The pavement was cluttered with a mix of fancy dogs and tied bikes. I laughed to myself as I avoided what I'm sure would have been referred to as a 'labra-doodle-retriever-pug.' This was one of the reasons why I like working at Westwood. It was not clearly characterized by annual gross income, like Santa Monica and Pasadena were; rather, it was neutral ground. A safe haven where the two sides might gather and share a simple cup of coffee. There's no need for class conflict when everyone just wants to grab some caffeine, right? There was ample space on the sidewalks for both the poodles and the Schwinns.

With this unusually optimistic view, I marched right into a brawl.

"I don't care what kind of hurry you're in, just move the damn car!"

I stood in place, staring in disbelief at the two men standing before me. At least one of them had to be a maintenance worker. He wore a drab slate-colored outfit with a smudged name tag and far too much facial hair. He was still clutching his keys, and given the way he had hastily double-parked next to a town vehicle, I assumed he had just abandoned his truck and bolted out onto the pavement.

The man standing across from him had a different story.

Everything about him was sleek and crisply cut. From his suit to his hair to the stiff way he clenched the muscles in his angular jaw. His hands were empty, and despite the fact that the maintenance man appeared to have simply retired from a life of UFC, his fingers twitched as if he was eager for a fight. Two silver rings, one for each hand. And a set of fucking diamond-studded cufflinks-I'm not kidding. I assume he hailed from an affluent family, had a large home, and even hired help.

I assumed the town car was his.

"Look."

I swear I noticed the man's eye quiver behind his thickly tinted spectacles.

"I'm not trying to cause trouble, but I was already parked when you pulled up behind me. "It is not your spot!"

"Already parked?" A pair of work gloves were thrown to the ground. "Already parked, my ass!" You swerved up from nowhere and snatched my position!"

Mr. Ralph Lauren simply grinned. "You may take the spot in five minutes. "I'm just stopping in for a quick coffee."

"Think I'm going to let you out, you stuck-up shallow prick?" he shrieked. "I'll block your automobile in. I'll make you late to work. What are you planning to do? Call a tow truck. "I will fuck you up, asshole!"

Is there an ongoing disagreement about a parking space? Seriously? I needed to step in. A brawl like this might go from 0 to 100 very quickly.

The maintenance person was on the edge of a complete system failure. As a health-care practitioner, I was concerned that the throbbing vein on the side of his neck would burst. Either that, or he might just run up and bite the rich boy in the face.

Both are intriguing options from a "my first fight" standpoint. But both meant that I was late for work. My dull pacifist side kicked in, and before they could launch into some serious sixth-grade name calling, I stepped in.

"Hey, hi there! "Calm down!"

Perhaps it was the ludicrously disappointing appearance of my little bird-like physique, holding up two twiggy arms to either of their chests, but both men took a large step back after one look at me. A surge of gratification warmed my veins, and it was everything I could do not to smile. Maybe it was because I was such a badass!

Keep it together, Shay. This is when you come off as cool and heroic.

I removed my sunglasses with the seriousness of an experienced detective. "Now what seems to be the problem here?"

The rich man began to talk, but I carefully turned to face his opponent. The maintenance man-Jason, I noticed his tag now-had gone the color of boiled shrimp.

"The problem is, this guy cut me off with his damn town car!" Jason stated.

"Not me." The man raised his hands and expelled a long breath. "My driver. Listen, I'd want to discuss this further, but I'm late for an important meeting."

"Your driver?" Jason took another aggressive step forward. "I swear, you wealthy son of a bitch. I have half a mind-"

"Listen," I stopped him off gently. A throng had began to form, and I was concerned that once the fun was finished, they would stream into my coffee shop, and I would never make it to work on time.

Another maintenance worker approached his buddy. "Nothing says, 'I'm a prick' like a town car and a sixty-dollar haircut."

There was a muffled reaction next to me, which I disregarded.

"I hear you," I responded, attempting to calm both of them before a riot erupted. "But let me tell you what, why don't we get inside and I'll buy Jason an espresso-just for keeping the peace?"

I gave Jason a wink for good measure and watched as his pigmentation restored to normal.

"Make it a double," he murmured as he marched obediently inside.

I defused a bomb. She shoots; she scores! First, no dark circles, and now this? I am on a roll today!

The people surrounding me cheered. I gave a slight bow, and a man let out a long whistle. Was this how celebrity felt like?

"Way to go!" a woman exclaimed. "That was so sweet of you!"

"Paying it forward," another man stated.

"You rock!" someone exclaimed.

Maybe Jason should look for a proper parking location. He wasn't going to remain double-parked, was he? Oh well. At the very least, I stopped the battle. I was practically beaming with pride as I began to follow Jason when a chilly voice abruptly stopped me.

"Don't I get an espresso?"

The rich man had removed his sunglasses, and my automatic reprimand was delayed for a moment or two as I lost myself in his green-gray gaze. They were the precise hue of the ocean, but not the crayon blue waters found on overcrowded beaches in Southern California. No, it was one of those icy oceans with large rock beaches rather than sand. The kind of ocean where I could sit for hours in complete alone, peering into the waves while salty spray misted my face.

My goodness. The man was really stunning. I was taken aback by how hot he was, and I couldn't speak. "I'm sorry." I shook my head swiftly and resumed my focus to the man. "What?"

I had been thinking about the ocean, you see.

His mouth twitched up, and he inclined his head to one side. "I said, don't I get an espresso?"

I returned my gaze to where his driver had finally exited the car, peering at the man with tense anticipation. Cufflinks-again! Even the help made me want to pull my hair out.

The ocean-eyes magic had worn off, and I put on my real glasses. "You are late for a highly important meeting. "You said it yourself." My gaze shifted back to his driver, and I smiled. "Besides, you can obviously afford it."

He smiled back at me as I turned to enter the shop. As a champion for the common man, the crowd parted in solidarity, and I was only a few moments away from reaching the counter. Kelly, my favorite barista, was already busy setting timers and sprinkling cinnamon, but she looked up and smiled when she saw me.

"Morning, Sharon-the usual?"

I lowered my elbows to the counter, staring bleakly at the latest pop star's new Thanksgiving album. "Yep. Oh, and I'll get that guy Jason's too." I pointed at the maintenance worker, and he smiled.

"You got it."

I took out a ten and waited while she hustled around. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the wealthy man enter the café and take his place at the back of the line. My cheeks flushed slightly, and I kept my gaze forward. These spectacular takedowns were always more effective when you could make a clean run afterwards. And the elevator music was not helping.

"You and Sophia miss another casting?" Kelly asked when she returned, carrying two steaming drinks. "You look tired."

I handed her my cash. "I just haven't been sleeping that well."

She frowned as she handed me back my change. "The dragon dream again?"

"Yes!" I leaned over the counter excitedly, eager to commiserate. "I don't know what's going on, but every time it gets close to me, it suddenly-"

"Hey! You in the scrubs!" An impatient voice cried out from the line. "Some of us have to get to work."

I threw back a sneer in their general direction. Just like that, my adoring crowd had changed on a dime. Fame was a fickle friend.

"I'll tell you later," I said with exaggerated importance to Kelly, "I have to get to work."

I snatched up my mocha-chino with all the dignity I could manage and strode out of the café with my head held high. I could feel the rich guy staring at me as I swept past him out the door, but I kept my eyes on the pavement. With my luck, I'd trip or something as I tried to deliver the final one-liner to seal the deal.