The bodega feels different tonight. Not in any big way. Same flickering sign. Same shelves stocked with overpriced snacks. Same too-loud bachata playing from the radio. But something's off.
Then Pierre sees it.
Luis isn't at the register.
Instead there's some new kid behind the counter. Barely older than twenty. Eyes flicking between their phone and the few customers wandering in.
Alright. No big deal. Just a change in routine.
Catherine notices it too the second she steps inside. Luis isn't there. Some too-young, too-nosy cashier stands in his place. Eyeing her like they know something she doesn't.
This was supposed to be my safe place.
She ignores it. Or tries to.
Pierre heads straight to the fridge. Grabs his iced coffee. Quietly this time. Because he has some self-control. He makes his way to the counter.
The door chimes behind him.
He already knows who it is.
Of course it's her.
Pierre doesn't even turn around before the cashier suddenly perks up. Looking between them with a slow, knowing grin. "Okay, wait. Are you guys always here at the same time?"
Catherine and Pierre both pause.
"What," she says flatly.
The cashier leans dramatically on the counter. Eyes lighting up. "Because I swear I was covering Luis's shift like two weeks ago and you two were literally doing the exact same thing."
Pierre glances at Catherine. Her expression shifts rapidly between horrified, murderous, and looking for the nearest emergency exit.
Beautiful.
He takes a casual sip of his coffee. "Finally. Someone who understands us."
Catherine slowly turns her head toward him. It's the kind of look that could send a weaker man straight into cardiac arrest.
"Pierre," she says. Voice dangerously calm. "Shut up."
The cashier gasps. Grips the counter. "Oh my god. She said your name like she's in denial about her feelings. This is SOOO good."
Pierre grins. "Right? We're working on our communication issues."
Catherine slams her tea onto the counter. Hard enough to shake the mint display. "I am pressing charges."
The cashier wiggles their eyebrows. "Enemies to lovers? Oh this is gold."
My soul leaves my body.
Pierre glances at Catherine's hands. They're balled into very professional, very controlled fists.
The smart move would be to stop.
But he's never been smart.
"Should we tell them about our secret engagement?" he muses.
Catherine exhales sharply. "If I commit a crime right now do you think Luis would testify against me?"
The cashier hums. "Mmmm. Hard to say. But I would livestream it."
Pierre laughs as he pays for his drink. Slides his change across the counter. Catherine swipes her tea and storms out like she's resisting the urge to throw it at him.
I barely make it a few steps before I hear him behind me. Unbothered. Leisurely.
The cashier watches her leave. Then turns back to Pierre. Grinning. "Damn. She's totally in love with you."
Pierre takes another sip of his coffee. Watches her retreating figure.
"Yeah," he says. "She just doesn't know it yet."
Outside Catherine stares out at the street. Sipping her tea. Ignoring him. Maybe if she stays completely still he'll disappear.
"You okay, sweetheart?" he asks. Voice dripping with amusement.
She lets the silence hang just long enough to make him wonder if she'll answer. Then finally she turns to him. Completely deadpan.
"I hope your iced coffee is expired."
Pierre bursts out laughing.
I hate him.
And worse?
I'll be back tomorrow.
And so will he.