Note: this chapter contains transphobia. Please note that any negative views are not a reflection of my own views, but rather a reflection of the characters within the story.

P.S. Sorry for taking so long to update!

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"Michael, I'd like you to meet two of the other girls on our team: Rita and Joanne." Allie gestures to each woman respectively, as not to confuse Michael regarding who is who. "They will be working alongside you making drinks today, while Laurie and Avery wait tables and clean up."

"It's a pleasure to meet you both," Michael answers, his attention on the two new faces. "I'm certain we'll have a wonderful time workin' together."

"The pleasure is ours," Joanne answers, flashing a quick wink at him. "Especially mine."

Michael picks up on Joanne's body language, deciding to play along for the sake of avoiding tension between himself and his new colleague. "So, you're gonna help me with makin' coffees and stuff?"

"I can help you with anything you want me to," Joanne assures him, giving him a teasing smile. "I think you'll fit in really well here. It's nice to have a guy around here."

"Tell me about it," Rita chimes in. "The closest we've got to a man is whatever the fuck Avery thinks she is."

Michael frowns at Rita's words, uncomfortable with such unnecessary hatred towards an individual he considers a friend. "That's not very kind."

"I don't give a fuck," Rita retorts, laughing. "If she wants to pretend she isn't a woman, then she can live in her fantasy world. She's just a delusional little bitch who needs mental help."

"Or maybe Avery just wants to be the person they feel they are inside," Michael answers. "Who are we to judge or spread negativity about it? Avery rocks their look and their vibe, and I think it's real neat, the fact they feel comfortable enough to be themself with us."

"You're such an arse-licker," Rita scoffs, getting to work on making a latte for a customer. "Is it because you're the new guy and want to kiss everyone's ass?"

"Not at all," Michael responds. "I just believe in kindness. Avery has done nothing wrong at all, and deserves to be treated as they are — human."

"I totally agree with you, Michael," Joanne adds. "It's so harsh to judge somebody for who they are."

Michael smiles to her. "Thank you, Joanne."

"Oh, here we go. Joey, there's no way you're changing your tune just because you fancy the new guy." Rita raises one brow in an accusatory manner, as she finishes pouring the freshly-steamed milk into the latte glass in front of her. "Un-bee-lievable."

"It's nothing to do with that, Rita," Joanne corrects her. "I just believe that everyone deserves a fair shot. We've never really gotten to know Avery because we let our judgement get in the way. Maybe Michael will have a positive influence on us."

"Fuck me backwards and call me Sally," Rita huffs, lifting up a tray of drinks ready to take to a table. "I can't believe what I'm hearing."

Michael watches Rita with disapproval as she saunters over to one of the tables to give the customers their order, but chooses to strike conversation with Joanne about the topic. "Has she always been so hateful?"

"Unfortunately, yes." Her blonde ponytail swishes over her shoulder as she turns her head to look at him. "And admittedly, I've been the same. But you're right — we should give Avery another chance. She—they seem nice."

"I'm glad you're willing to broaden your perspective on it," Michael answers. "You guys seem like polar opposites in every single way. Hair colour, style, personality."

"We're like yin and yang, in a sense," Joanne chuckles. "She's the edgy lass with black hair, and I'm the bubbly blonde. It's so cliché, isn't it? But usually, it works for us. Maybe she feels threatened that you're here, because usually she's the closest thing to an alpha male in this place."

"I get that." Michael shifts his focus towards preparing the saucers and spoons for the next order, but continues the conversation as he works. "But I'm honestly no threat. I just wanna get along with everybody. I'm not here to make enemies — although Rita seems like one to look out for, based on the past five minutes."

"Other than her ... obvious prejudices, she's actually a really sweet girl." Joanne follows suit with helping Michael as she elaborates. "You know, behind all that dark hair and eyeliner, she's a total sweetheart. She just needs to, kind of, learn not to judge people before really knowing them."

Michael shrugs, not wanting to voice too strong of an opinion so soon into his employment. "You might be right about that."

Joanne acknowledges his words with a nod of the head, but jumps to a new conversation to avoid awkwardness. "So, Michael, what brings you to England? Your accent gives away you're clearly not from here."

"It's a long story, really," Michael replies. "In case you couldn't tell by the obnoxious accent, I'm from The States. Recently moved here because I got divorced and needed a fresh start. I'll spare you the details, but it's been rough."

"Oh, I'm so sorry." Joanne's expression contorts into one of pity, as she grants herself permission to rub his arm comfortingly. "That must have been so hard for you."

Michael's gaze averts down subtly to the physical contact of her fingers against his skin; and although he would never confess to it, it causes him to hesitate a moment. He hasn't experienced the touch of another human — much less a woman — in this way since Valerie. Despite his reservations towards flirtation or intimacy with anyone so soon after the breakdown of his marriage, he finds himself welcoming this gesture from such an unfamiliar individual with no protest. His eyes move back up, meeting hers, and a brief silence falls between them until it is brashly interrupted by the grating voice of their colleague.

"Get a room, will you?" Rita says, tutting immediately after she has spoken. "You've known each other for ten minutes."

"How about get a grip, chica?" Joanne fires back, rolling her eyes upwards playfully. "He was just telling me about his past a little. He's been through some stuff."

"Let me guess — it involves a woman cheating or lying or backstabbing him, and it's totally not his fault," Rita answers. "Spare me the sob story, mate."

"You're very aggressive, aren't you?" Michael asks, in hopes that she will interpret it as a rhetorical question. "I mean, I just wanna get to know everybody equally and feel like a part of the team. I don't wanna cause any trouble."

"Trouble is my middle name." Rita tosses a dirty spoon into the sink to be washed later. "And Joey's is Suck-Up."

"Behave." Joanne rips away a piece of paper from the long line of orders, having fulfilled the request written on it. As she scrunches it into a ball and throws it away, she justifies her actions. "I just believe that we should give Michael a chance. And if he thinks we should go easier on Avery, then I think that too. Who knows? Maybe we could discover two new friendships."

"Hm." Rita seems unconvinced, but she doesn't dwell too much on the subject. "So, this is your second day, Mike?"

"Uh, yes. Yesterday was my first day. I worked mainly with Laurie and Avery, learning some of the basics." As he talks, he carries on fulfilling orders with their help. "Allie seems to believe I'm doin' good, so that's a good sign."

Joanne passes Michael a mug to speed up his task. "Well, that's amazing."

"Thank you."

He grasps the mug in his hand, before placing a teabag and some hot water in it. While the tea brews, he gets to work on the following drink order, effortlessly going through the motions as though he has been doing the job his entire life. Joanne works with him, passing him any utensils he requires and acting as an extra pair of hands if there is more than one beverage in an order. The pair complement each other beautifully, bouncing off one another without the need for communication. They weave past one another; they finish each other's orders; and they work through the long list together gracefully, with minimal disruption. Professionally speaking, they appear to be the missing jigsaw piece to one another.

"My gosh, guys," Laurie gasps, setting a tray full of dirty pots down by the sink. "I can't keep up with you. You're sending drinks out before I can even clear the tables. How are you working so fast?"

"Because we make a good team," Joanne answers, a satisfied smile on her dainty face.

"Oooh, we make a good team," Rita mocks, in a disparaging tone. "Laurie, these guys have been flirting all bloody morning."

Laurie looks to Michael, unsure of how to react to this statement. She musters some laughter, albeit fake laughter, and decides to joke along with Rita. "Wow ... it doesn't take long for you, does it, Michael?"

"We weren't flirting," Michael says. "Like Joanne said, we just make a great team. We didn't even need to talk; we just knew what we had to do, and went with it."

"Well, you guys can continue to do that while I take my lunch break," Laurie responds, slipping past them all to get to the staff area. "You lot have tired me out."

"Have fun," Michael calls after her, amused at the interaction they've just shared. "Whew. That was intense. Now what?"

"I guess we need to catch up on pots," Joanne answers. "And then after that, I'll show you some other new stuff."

Michael glances at her, confused. "Is there other stuff to learn?"

"Oh gosh, yes. Loads of stuff. Managing the till and making drinks isn't the end of it, you know." Joanne gets to work on washing some pots, leaving them on the draining rack for Michael to dry with a cloth. "I mean, there's housekeeping for a start. And there's cake portioning. Oh, and there's stock take. Have you been shown the stock room yet?"

"No, I don't believe I have," Michael tells her. "I wasn't aware there was a stock room."

"Yeah, there is. I mean, clue's in the name really. It's a room full of stuff that we use for the business. There's fridges and freezers and cupboard space in there so that everything can go in one place. I'll give you a little tour of it later on, if you like."

"I'd appreciate that," Michael responds graciously. "Thank you."

"It's not a problem. That's what I'm here for." She places down a sud-covered plate on the draining rack, which Michael reaches to take so that he can dry it. As his hand grabs it, he feels her hand graze over his, for she too has reached to take it again. "Sorry. I missed a spot that needed cleaning."

"O-Oh, uh, of—of course. Uh, my bad." Michael stumbles over his words due to a combination of bashfulness and nerves, but ultimately lets go of it in favour of Joanne rewashing it. He can't help but halt what he is doing to observe her for a moment as she runs the soapy water back over the plate. Although she doesn't look like Valerie, there are elements to her such as her mannerisms, body language and facial expressions that remind him of his doomed ex-love. She has an aura about her that seems to ignite a spark in his soul, though he is cautious of making any rash decisions purely based on a moment of reminiscence.

"There you go."

Michael snaps back to reality, to find he has been staring directly at her face for at least the last thirty seconds. She stands waiting for him to take the clean plate from her, but she senses that he is deep in thought, so she tries her luck at finding out what is on his mind.

"What were you thinking about?"

"Oh, nothin'." Michael can feel his cheeks burning with humiliation at being caught in the act, but he tries to keep his cool. "Just couldn't focus my eyes, that's all."

"I don't believe that," Joanne says. "You can be honest with me, you know."

Michael looks to her for a moment more, trying to gauge how genuine she seems, before he lets his guard down entirely. "You remind me of my ex-wife a little. Not how you look — but more the way you act. It just kind of took me back in time a little, that's all."

"Oh, I'm so sorry." Joanne's eyes soften at his explanation, but she wishes to reassure him. "No judgement here, at all. Not everybody can be totally different. There's going to be similarities somewhere in the world."

"I guess that's true. I just hope it didn't make you uncomfortable for me to compare you to her, when you barely know me."

"Of course not." She finalises washing the pots and rinses the suds from her hands with water, before deciding to help Michael with his task of drying. "As I said, anyway ... I'll show you the stock room after this. Just so you know where to go if you need supplies."

"I appreciate you being so helpful," Michael responds. "I think everybody I've met so far has been pretty nice to me — well, maybe not so much your friend."

"Just ignore her," Joanne says. "Like she said herself — Trouble is her middle name. Pay her no mind and she'll back off."

After a few minutes of drying plates and cutlery, the pair finally catch up on the pots and they toss their towels to one side.

"So, the stock room?" Michael asks. "Would you, maybe, show me the ropes with that?"

"My pleasure." She gestures with her hand, leading him in the direction of the staff area.

As they walk down towards the stock room, Michael evaluates in his mind how the day is going so far. He cannot deny that Rita is a little intimidating for his liking, but with some effort he is certain he can steer clear of her if needed. What he also notes, however, is that Joanne is undeniably attractive — he'd even go as far as considering her gorgeous. Their professional chemistry has been unmatched in these last few hours, and they both know it. He has never found an individual so in sync with his style of work ethic, to the point where nonverbal cues could enable them to complete a common goal together. She seems almost a little too perfect, but by the same token, perfection is subjective and may not quite be unattainable, if observed through the eyes of the right person.

"So, here it is." Joanne unlocks the door, opening it wide enough for him to enter the room. "Take it all in. It'll probably come in handy at some point."

"It's smaller than I expected," Michael comments. "You know, especially since there's fridges and freezers in here."

"Yeah, it's a little tight," Joanne answers, her wording purposefully vague to leave it open to Michael's own interpretation. "But it can handle a lot. It's the way it was designed."

She turns her attention to him, entering the compact room herself. By the time she is inside, their bodies are only a matter of inches away from one another's. Their eyes meet, thickening the tension between them immensely, to the point where even conversation could not alleviate it.

"It's nice to have a man around here," she utters, barely above a whisper. "Evens the playing field a little."

"Well, I have a wonderful team." Michael speaks just as quietly as she does, for he senses the intent behind her words. "And I think I can see myself fitting right in."

"You could fit right in any time you wanted to," Joanne says, her eyes moving to Michael's mouth. "If you want to, that is."

Michael laughs softly and knowingly. "I'd love to."

Hearing his response is enough for Joanne to close the small gap between them, forcing herself onto him in an aggressive, passion-fuelled kiss. She pushes him against the back wall, trapping him between herself and the concrete as she tangles her fingers into his ponytail of curls. After the initial shock wears off, Michael gives in to his lust, bringing her in closer with a deliberate tug to her waist. The harsh breaths between the two of them mingle with the messy sounds of their lips as their intimate affair continues on, but, overpowering his satisfaction is the intense guilt that floods his heart. He wants to do this, but, even more than this, he doesn't want to do this.

Not yet. It's too soon.

Michael carefully pushes her body away from him, cutting their kiss short. "This was a mistake."

Joanne's smudged red lips contort into a bewildered frown. "What?"

"This shouldn't have happened. I—"

"I thought you might be in here! I barely heard your voices from down the corridor." The sound of Laurie's chirpy voice fills the stock room. "Michael, I just wanted to let you know that Sean and Casey are h—"

Michael attempts to dissuade her from venturing too far into the cramped vicinity. "Laurie, we were just—"

"—Oh, shit." Laurie spots the dishevelled pair and the red lipstick evident on Michael's lips. "I-I'm clearly interrupting."

"I-It's nothing, Laurie," Michael stammers, knowing that very little can excuse the sight she is seeing before her. "Let me just go say hi to them both."

Michael slips past his friend, devastation coursing through every inch of his body at what has unfolded. It was such a mistake; such a moment of weakness — and now, it may have cost him his chance at a future with his son.

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Chapter ten! Things got intense! Sorry it took so long to update. Hope you still enjoyed the chapter. xx