Chapter Text
Sansa leaned on the counter and let out a great sigh. Training new employees was a strain on the worst of days, but putting her baby brother through orientation?
“Oi, Sansa! What does this button do?”
Before she could explain that the particular button did not actually do anything, Rickon had pushed it anyway.
“Sansa,” Rickon whined, pressing the button repeatedly. “I think it’s broken.”
“It’s doing exactly what it was meant to,” Sansa replied, barely holding her shit together after two hours of this nonsense. If this wasn’t her brother, she would have suggested that Robb fire the newest recruit at Stark’s Coffee is Coming Cafe. A family business really meant that the whole family could get involved if they were interested.
Walking Rickon through the point of sale system again, Sansa wondered whether she would have to train Arya again when she inevitably asked Dad for money. “It’s like clockwork,” she murmured, recalling that the six month mark since Arya’s last quitting was coming up.
“Cock work?” Rickon echoed way too loudly, mashing at the button to open the cash drawer. “Big words coming from the Ass Man.”
“No! Don’t act like a goober with customers around,” Sansa said, gripping at the counter’s edge to keep herself from considering tying up Rickon to leave him in the back room for a few hours. “If I have to tell you or Arya that it’s Assistant Manager one more ti-”
Someone else clearing their throat made Sansa and Rickon look away from the register. “Not to make things awkward, but I’m a little crunched for time and one of your mochas would save my afternoon.”
Robb always told Sansa that it was way too easy to know she was feeling purely based on facial and body language, so she was sure that this gorgeous stranger thought her a frantic fool already.
“Yes, of course,” Sansa said, gently pushing her 14 year old brother away from the register. “Anyway, what can I get for you? B-besides the mocha of course.”
You’re such an idiot, Sansa Stark, she told herself. No wonder you can’t get anybody to listen to you.
“Mmm, let’s see.” The customer twirled a perfect curl around one finger, and then let it spring back into place. “I’ve heard your scones are dynamite. Which flavor do you recommend?”
Wasn’t she supposed to be in a hurry? Sansa thought to herself. Aloud, she suggested. “Cinnamon chip, all day, every day.” The scones weren’t her favorite dessert ever, but she had definitely gotten through her sophomore year of college all-nighters thanks to those.
“Can’t argue with that logic. Two, of those, then. That’s all for me, thanks.”
Sansa found herself hoping that the second scone wasn’t supposed to be for the customer’s probably handsome boyfriend or something. She fought to keep up that customer service smile, though, and punched everything into the register. “That’ll be $10.17, please. And could I have your name?”
“Margaery... It’s hard to get the spelling right, so you can just take my business card.”
That seemed a little weird to Sansa, but she wasn’t complaining about getting to know more about her new crush. She accepted the business card and exact change, and watched Margaery drop a couple bucks in the tip bucket.
“Thanks so much, Miss Margaery,” Rickon shouted, reaching across the counter to try to grab for those tips.
“Yes, thank you so much.” Sansa swatted at Rickon’s hand instinctively. She weighed the options of how to get this drink made and the register watched. Going through the process of making the drink, she instructed, “Rickon, warm up the scones like I showed you, then stand by the register and don’t do anything stu- that I didn’t train you to do.”
Rickon grinned, but it was his scheming grin. Every few seconds, Sansa glanced up to make sure that her brother had not burnt the place down. To her relief, Rickon’s smirk faltered- probably because he could not figure out a way around that order.
Sansa finished up drink prep, and took a look at the business card to see if she could get the spelling right. Luckily this was the slow part of the day so she could print ‘Margaery’ on the cup perfectly. Satisfied with her handiwork, she snagged the warmed pastries from Rickon, and handed over the scones, coffee, and business card.
“Thanks,” Margaery said, accepting the scones. “You can keep that card, though. Never know when you might need it.”
With a wink that made Sansa’s chest feel too tight and her head start to spin, the customer left.
“What the fuck was that?” Rickon, of course, had to be annoying at all times.
“You know mom hates it when you swear, goober.” Sansa, of course deflected the situation. “But anyway, can you stop pretending like you don’t already basically know how to use the register? You’ve been lurking around back here since you were, like... I don’t even know.”
Rickon shrugged, and leaned over to look at the business card. “Tyrell Supply Company... That sounds super familiar.”
“What?” Sansa snatched the card up. “They’re our biggest coffee bean supplier. It says she’s the VP of Operations, but she’s like, probably my age.”
“What the fuuuuuck,” Rickon said obnoxiously. “Why is she going around giving out business cards and pretending that she isn’t one of our clients or some stupid shit?”
Sansa had to ask herself the same question. What the fuuuuuck, indeed.