George turned to me. The smile on his face disappeared as if it hadn’t been there just a second ago. 

“What is it you want here, Madison?” he asked, sounding both insulting and disinterested at the same time. 

I’d expected as much since I was late and had just ruined his cheap fun for the morning, but I felt something stir inside me, telling me I deserved better.

This was the part where I had to start begging him to keep me on as a barista. Maybe even allow him to ...