Veronica POV
Two weeks.
That was how long Veronica had been living this hell that people called a job. It was horrible and to think people did this for forty-plus years. How? Why? When will it end?
“Miss?” a man called out to her, snapping his fingers, “I didn’t order this. I asked for a black coffee and this is a latte,”
“Oh, are you allergic to milk?” she asked, looking sympathetic.
“Oh, no,” the man smiled.
“Then stop complaining and drink up,” she snapped.
‘I must say, I admire you, Hale. Most people would get better after practicing something for two weeks. But you seem like you’re getting worse,’ Simon drawled, making Veronica roll her eyes.
‘You better reel it in. If Rosemary gets wind of this, it’ll be dish duty for you tomorrow,’
That got Veronica’s attention. Waiting ta
