So you see, I don't have much to complain about. However, on this dreary Monday morning, I sit here on my stool behind the counter of the coffee shop where I work watching the rain pour from the sky. I'm pondering what I'm doing with my life. I have a Bachelor in Business Administration and I work at a coffee shop. It's hard for new graduates to find jobs. Everyone wants experience, but how in the hell am I supposed to get experience if no one gives me a chance? See my dilemma? So, instead of putting my education to good use, I work the early shift at the local coffee shop.
Before I can let myself get lost in my own pity party, the bell over the door sounds and the noise from the thunderous rain fills the small shop. I quickly stand to greet my first customer of the day, but when my eyes land on him, I freeze.
Sweet mother of all that is good in life, he's gorgeous. Dark hair, cut short on the sides and a little longer on top, but not so much that it hangs in his eyes. His strong jaw is covered in a light beard. It's sexy, more than a five o'clock shadow, but not as prominent as a full-on Duck Dynasty beard. His eyes, like milk chocolate, study me like I have two heads. It's not until he smirks that I realize this super sexy man has just busted me checking him out. I want to feel embarrassed and I do, kind of, but not really. Trust me, if you could see what I see, you would roll with it too.
"How can I help you?" I finally say.
"Coffee, black, biggest cup you have," he replies, reaching up and wiping the rain from his forehead.
"It's wet out there, huh?" My lame attempt at making conversation. I blame Mr. Super Sexy Beard. He's distracting and has my brain scrambled.
That smirk again. "You could say that."
I can feel my face heat. Funny how when he blatantly caught me checking him out, I couldn't care less, but the minute I open my mouth and words fly out, I'm embarrassed. Lesson learned: ogle the sexy man, but do not engage in conversation.
I fumble with the cup, making an even bigger spectacle of myself. I focus on the task at hand and fill the extra-large to the brim with steaming hot brew. Carefully I add the lid and then turn to face him. "That'll be two dollars," I say, carefully sliding the cup across the counter.
He gracefully pulls a five out of his wallet and hands it to me. I don't make eye contact as I make his change from the register. When I lift my head to count back his change, he's already at the door. "Sir," I yell out, waving his three dollars in the air. "Your change."
"Keep it." He winks.
Then he's gone. Like a figment of my imagination, no one here to witness that he truly does exist. I should have snuck a picture. Damn! I always think of that after the fact. Not that I could have been covert about it anyway. I barely held on to the stupid cup.
The rain is still pouring outside and Mr. Super Sexy Beard has been my one and only customer all morning. With a heavy sigh, I perch on my stool and pull out my phone. I scroll through my social media accounts and get lost in what everyone I know had to eat in the last twenty-four hours. This is what my life has been reduced to.
IT'S AMAZING HOW money can change your life. A year ago I was working construction, busting my ass day in and day out, living paycheck to paycheck. I enjoyed the work, being able to build something from the ground up, seeing my progress. I started right out of high school, since college wasn't my thing-hell, school wasn't my thing-and I was good with the choice I made. I knew I would never be rich, but I was able to support myself.
Life was good.
Then it got better.
At least after the initial shock wore off. The condensed version is that my grandmother, my dad's mom whom I thought was dead, wasn't. Until she was. When she passed, she left me, the grandson she'd shunned, her fortune.
Ten million dollars.
At first I refused it, but after some thought and talks with my parents and my best friend Zane, I decided to accept. My first order of business was to pay off my parents' house. I tried to buy them a new one, but they threw a fit insisting that their home was all they needed for the two of them. Mom cried and said all of our memories are there, and her tears had me conceding. I also bought them both new cars and transferred a million to their bank account. They were pissed but soon got over it.
My next step was an investment banker. I wanted to use the money wisely. I kept my job at the construction company and pretty much just laid low. Six months after meeting with the investment banker, I had gained just under one million.
"Sleeping on the job, I see," Zane says, pulling up a bucket beside me.
I motion toward the laptop I'm holding. "Not hardly. Just thinking about how things have changed in the last year."
"True that." He holds his fist out for me and I don't leave him hanging.