Chapter 15

Ricky

I stretch my back and wince silently as a sharp pain shoots through my neck. I stood for most of the day. I intermittently massage my heels through my socks — bare feet are not allowed in the kitchen anyway.

The door swings open as I hurry to clean the kitchen table, and the cook plans to close quite early. I sigh, slumping my shoulders.

“Ricky.” My boss knocks on the door, “looks like we have one more person to serve. Your training has to wait.”

“Sir, I—”

“I know. Serve her first, and—”

The doorbell rings aloud again. Three boys. Three young boys with the stench of tobacco wafting off them and spiky hair walk through the door. The chains on their heavy boots make the loudest of noises.

I hear a loud sigh from my boss. Thank God I’m not the only one tired. The day hasn’t gone halfway, but it can be recorded as the busiest I have had at Moka’s.

My eyes catch the young girl as she moves uncomfortably to the far end of her seat. I’m