Meet-Cute

03. mehr

m e h r
HOSAIN

chapter three — ❛ What can I get you? ❜
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THE AROMA OF FRESHLY BAKED GOODS saturated the establishment; Mehr tucks a wavy strand of her dark hair behind her ear as she gently places the snowball cookies down onto a cake plate, passing it on to Zoya, who was busy pouring customers' drinks.

"You don't know how thankful I am that you came to save my ass," she quips while reaching for the small plates filled with mouth-watering pastries only to put them on the correct tray.

Mehr could only purse her lips, shrugging her shoulders, letting her hair sway from one side to another, "I needed an escape from the workload anyway, so in a way, you're helping me out as well."

The comment made her best friend pause, scrunching her eyebrows teasingly, "Is your mentor giving you a hard time?"

She quirks an eyebrow, sending her a stoic expression, "What do you think? After making a fool out of myself, not once, not twice, but thrice? He sure is trying his best to ruin my life."

Khayr Ahammed wasn't to be messed with. Not in a million years did Mehr think she would have someone so close to her father as her mentor. He wasn't bad per se; he was just unattainable—in the sense that she could never meet his expectations.

Suddenly, they hear someone clear their throat, causing them to jerk back at the disruption. Removing her eyes from Zoya, they trail behind her, following the delicate voice. Zoya's aunt's arms were crossed over her apron-covered chest as she taps her fingers onto the side of her left arm while the other held an empty tray. "Did I call you two in to work or to gossip?"

"Technically, I don't even work here–"

"Don't get cheeky with me," jutting her head forward, she leans back against the clear counter whilst scanning the new incoming crowd.

"But it is true. Are you going to pay for my services?" Mehr always loved to be playful with her; the sweet-looking woman could not harm anyone. It's one of the reasons as to why her café is so renowned, and everyone just loves her personality and handmade desserts.

"I think you took your payment early," her hands gesturing towards the slightly empty display, "With the number of croissants and cupcakes you've been eating, it should be enough, don't you think?"

Zoya suppresses a laugh before elbowing her friend, signalling her to shut up. "Sorry, Khala Irhaa, we will go back to it now."

Mehr watches her friend scurry away to the back room, and before she could step away from Irhaa, she steps in front of her. "Ah ah ah, where do you think you're running off to?"

"To the back? I'm sure Zoya will need some help–"

"I can tell you now she doesn't," she drawls out softly before handing her a small iPad, which makes Mehr meet her eyes in a confused manner.

Irhaa extends her arm further, encouraging her to take it from her grip, but Mehr stills, "What am I supposed to do with this?"

"Take orders," she calmly explains as she forces the small item into her hand, "Humble yourself."

Mehr is too stunned to speak; as she opens her mouth to reply, Irhaa has already left to assist another customer. She curses under her breath before walking around the counter in an attempt to find someone who requires help. Flickering her gaze towards the booth at the far end, she notices an ominous silhouette whose attention was purely trapped in their book.