The Harem on the Hill (Part X)

"More coffee, hon'?"

Marge, a matronly, gum-smacking woman armed with a coffee pot and a drawl hovers over you once again.  She just filled your cup minutes ago and you've barely taken a sip.

"No, thank you.  Just my check."  

Marge responds with a nod and a gum-smack, then scurries off behind the counter.  

Visiting Cornicupia has been a waste of time.  Outside of a "Help Wanted" sign on the window (apparently Marge isn't the long-term solution, thank god), it appears to be business as usual.  At least your signature will be on the check, providing proof of your visit.

Rather than Marge returning with it, however, it's Paul, the shop's owner.  You're glad to see him.  If for no other reason you've now been witnessed by a familiar face.    

The happiness you feel evaporates the minute he opens his mouth, however.   

"I figured the police would be by to ask about you," Paul says, setting the check beside you on the table.  

You stare slack-jawed at the paunchy, middle-aged man.  "What do you mean?"

"Tina, the girl who used to wait on you?  She was obsessed.  I thought she might've kidnapped you...or worse."  Paul plops into the chair beside you with a heavy sigh.  "I'm glad to see that's not the case."  

"Obsessed?  With me?"

"Oh, yeah.  She started work here right before you started coming in.  Once you did, she never wanted to work a shift unless it was a day and time you might come."

"That's odd,"  you say, shifting in your seat.  "She seemed a tad shy."    

Paul leans forward.  "It's the quiet ones you have to worry about."  

You swallow hard.  "Where is she now?"  Like a clever attorney, you're keen asking questions to which you already know the answers...but not when the answer implicates yourself.     

"She no-call-no-showed a little over a week ago and I haven't seen her since.  With you here, it wouldn't surprise me if she suddenly stopped in to pick up her check."  

It would surprise me, you think.   

"She was a hard worker though.  I'll miss her."   Paul stands and begins to clear an adjoining table.  As he gathers up a newspaper spread across it, he smiles.  "I won't miss having these torn-up though.  If you were mentioned in an article, rest assured she'd rip it out!"   

You rise, take a final sip of your coffee, and nod to Paul as you throw $10 on the table.  As you turn to exit, he calls after you--

"I hope you realize I was being tongue-in-cheek. Tina's just an overzealous kid.  I wouldn't be worried."

You wish you could share his sentiment.