.06 thin ice (courtney)

                                    

                                          
"Look, let's start over," he offered. "I'm Shayne. Thank you for helping me out."
                          
Sincerity radiated through his words, though Courtney steadfast remained skeptical of his words. To her surprise, a warm, calloused hand reached out to fill the space between them - a handshake. She stared at his extension while internally debating the best course of action.
                          
Her justification for letting him seek shelter was two-fold. Given the ever-inquisitive passerbys with cameras at the ready, Courtney reasoned that Shayne could overstay his welcome. It wouldn't do either of them good to fend for themselves - Shayne due to the reporters, and Courtney due to her anxiety of being alone. At least, that is how she argued it in her mind.
                          
If she didn't accept his offer, she would be utterly alone. That creeping feeling lingered when she was isolated. For starters, taking out the trash earlier that evening had been a total nightmare come to life. Her heart palpitated even further when she toyed with the idea of leaving him stranded. But having another human being around, albeit a conceited asshole, quelled her frantic mind. In other words, she was thankful for the company.
                          
Reluctantly, she met him halfway, the rough skin of his worn hand wrapping around her delicate palms. "Fine. I'm Courtney," she replied curtly. "Just don't offer me money again."
                          
An earnest smile curved towards her. The blue of his eyes sparkled in the starkly bright fluorescent lighting of the coffee house. Alluring didn't even begin to describe the way he seemed. An electromagnetic field pulled her toward him. The scent of his faint cologne was intoxicating in the most irresistible way.
                          
Snap out of it! she mentally cursed.
                          
Drawing her back to reality, Shayne chuckled, shaking her hand a few extra times for good measure. "Wouldn't dream of it."
                          
Courtney returned to her work diligently, cleansing the various steel cups and pipes used to brew the shop's signature drinks. Her eyes trained on the task in front of her, careful to let her pupils - or worse, her mind - wander to a certain man nearby.
                          
A curious voice cut through the clanking of utensils against the sink. "Can I ask you something?" pipped Shayne.
                          
Shayne's piqued interest intrigued her. The surprising turn in their newfound acquaintanceship couldn't have been predicted. The smallest part of her was thrilled to be the center point of his attention. But this was contraband, and illicit actions at the risk of Damien's expense were off the table. It was safer to deflect Shayne's questions. 
                          
Rather than entertain him, Courtney deadpanned, "You just did."
                          
"Oh, be quiet. You know what I mean," he chuckled.
                          
Sighing, she caved into his request. "Sure." 
                          
"What's it like working here?" Shayne asked. 
                          
Why would he want to know? She never expected him to ask a question like that - something as ordinary as her job. It made the gloss around his celebrity status more of a surface-level opinion. 
                          
"It's good. The customers can be demanding, but my manager is awesome and usually handles them. I like making drinks. Coffee is a super methodic, and it's super comforting to know that if I follow the steps, I know I'll get a good result."
                          
The ghost of her smile lingered until she realized who she was speaking to - an actor with assistants who probably had their own assistants. "I should be asking you the same thing. Acting and making coffee are not even in the same realm of interest."
                          
The blond-haired man chuckled lightly. "Do you want the cookie-cutter answer or the real deal?" he smirked.
                          
She smirked. "You and I both know the answer to that."