Chapter 9 - The One Time Pierre Had Fans

I barely make it two steps inside the bodega before I hear it.

"Oh hey, you're that line cook from La Riviera, right?"

I blink.

Standing by the snack aisle is a guy I vaguely recognize—early thirties, dress shirt slightly wrinkled, probably coming off a late shift of his own. One of our regulars.

"Oh, yeah," I say, nodding. "What's up, man?"

He grins. "Dude, I love that place. You guys make the best steak frites."

"Appreciate it," I say, grabbing an iced coffee. "We try."

At the register, Catherine is staring at me like she just found out I'm a celebrity.

"You have fans?" she asks, pure disbelief in her voice.

I smirk. "What can I say? People love me."

Luis, already sensing the incoming disaster, leans on the counter, fully invested.

The guy follows my gaze to Catherine, then back to me. "Oh, is this your girlfriend?"

Oh. Oh, this is perfect.

Luis visibly perks up. "OHHH. Here we go."

Catherine, slow blinking, turns to me. Daring me to make it worse.

I consider my options for exactly three seconds before making the dumbest decision possible.

I sigh dramatically. "Yeah," I say, shaking my head. "We're in a very passionate enemies-to-lovers arc."

Catherine exhales through her nose so hard it might start a small hurricane.

Luis nearly drops the register.

The guy, not picking up on the absolute war about to break out, just nods approvingly. "Man, I get it. My wife hated me when we first met, too."

Catherine slowly turns her head to face him.

"…How nice for you," she says, voice so flat it could level a city.

Luis physically has to turn around because he's laughing too hard.

I take a slow sip of my iced coffee, watching Catherine vibrating with unspoken rage.

Finally, she turns to Luis. "How much do I have to pay you to ban him from this store?"

Luis, still wiping his eyes, snorts. "Not enough, sweetheart."

I grin. Victory.