Mr. Garcia by T.L. Swan

I applied for this job months ago. A girl who used to work at the café worked at Club Exotic one night a week at the bar, and it covered her entire rent.

I jump off the couch in excitement.

I mean, I know it’s not ideal. It’s a gentlemen’s club, but it is only behind the bar.

How hard can it be to pour drinks?

Plus, I’ve had to listen to Penelope having sex every night for free, anyway. I’m pretty sure my pure eyes and ears can handle anything these days.

If I don’t find something beforehand, this could work out okay. I speed read the email again. Gosh, that’s five weeks away, though.

Damn it, five weeks is a long time.

My phone begins to vibrate.


“Hello, April?”

“Yes.” I don’t recognize the voice.

“This is Anika from Club Exotic.”

“Oh,” I frown. “I actually just opened an email from you.”

“Yes, that’s why I’m calling. We’ve just had somebody leave without notice and you were the first person on our interview list who has answered.”


“Do you want to come in tomorrow for an interview? I know it’s last minute, but otherwise your interview isn’t until next month.”

I quickly run through my schedule for tomorrow. I guess I can skip my lecture. “Yeah, sure. That would be great. What time?”

“Can you be here at eleven?”

I don’t finish my shift at the café till 10.30 a.m. Although, I could get ready before my shift. “Okay, that sounds great, thank you.” I smile, excited. “I’ll see you then.”

“Can I help you, sir?”

“I’ll have a toasted cheese on rye and a flat white, please.”

“Sure.” I smile as I tap his order into the computer. It’s another day at the cafe, another few pounds. “That will be nine pounds ninety-five, thanks.”

He hands over his money, and I hear the distant bell over the door as someone new enters the building.

This is the longest shift I’ve ever done at the café. I’m nervous about my interview this morning. After thinking on it all night, I’ve decided that I really want that job.

If I could just work two shifts a week, then I could move out of the dorm and into my own studio apartment.

Imagine that!

Don’t get excited. You haven’t gotten it yet, I remind myself.

“Can I help you?” I ask as I glance up and stare straight into the eyes of Mr. Garcia.

He came back.

“Hello,” he says in his deep voice.

The air between us doing that thing again… electricity and butterflies all rolled into one.

“You back for more of my great coffee?” I smirk.

He gives me a slow, sexy smile. “I am.”



“Well…” I drop my shoulders and stand tall, as I try to act cool. “How can I help you?”

Amusement flashes across his face. “I’ll have a double macchiato, please.”

“Of course.” I type it into the computer then glance up at him. “Will that be all?”

His eyes hold mine. “For now.”

I roll my lips as I try to hide my smile. Why does everything that comes out of his mouth sound sexy?

For now isn’t theoretically a hot sentence.

Lance looks over my shoulder to see the screen. “It’s okay, Lance, Mr. Garcia likes it when I make his coffee,” I say as I try to stay straight faced.

Sebastian’s forehead wrinkles, and I know he’s inwardly cringing inside. Ha-ha, this is classic. Oh well. That will teach him for throwing away my coffee yesterday.

“Okay, okay,” Lance says, taking over from me at the register.

I turn to the coffee machine, and I really want to burst out laughing. I’m so shit at this, it isn’t funny. Right. What do I do again? This coffee machine is so confusing.

I glance over my shoulder to see Mr. Garcia waiting patiently as he watches me. His hands are tucked into the pants pockets of his grey suit. He’s wearing a cream shirt today, and it really makes his dark hair pop.

He gives me a soft smile, and I smile back.

He really is dreamy.

I make his coffee and turn back to him. “Here you go.”

“Thank you.” He takes it and dips his head. “Have a nice day.”