Sugar came next and finally, milk,
which she was very relieved not to
spill on the counter. With all of the
ingredients packed safely inside
the metal cup, she walked over to
the milkshake mixer.
Ignoring the feel of her customer’s
sinful blue eyes against her back,
she proceeded to begin her task.
She slipped the cup into place
beneath the metal stirring wand.
Breath held, she flicked the switch.
Turning the cup in slow circles,
Abigail mixed the ingredients.
After about thirty seconds, her
confidence began to grow. Ice
cream and syrup had become a
smooth, drinkable liquid she was
almost proud of. Beaming, she
reached across the counter for the
whipped cream, which she’d add to
the top when she was finished.
Turning her attention back to the
machine, Abigail gave the metal
cup a final spin then pushed the
switch downward. But instead of
turning off, the wand spun harder,
causing the chunky white liquid to
spill over the sides of the cup. She
placed her finger firmly over the
switch, but it wouldn’t move. She
forced it down as hard as she
could, but the metal nozzle popped
upward and the stirring wand spun
at lightning speed. The contents of
the cup flew up and out, landing on
the floor and all over the ceiling.
Abigail gasped, turning to where
her handsome customer stood. His
shirt was covered in thick chunks
of ice cream.
“Oh my God!” She grabbed a
towel from the counter. Racing
from behind it, she went to where
he was standing and began rubbing
his shirt vigorously.
Seeing that there was an enormous
white streak near the bottom of his
shirt, Abigail went to work on it.
She quickly realized that she was
only setting in the stain. She
slowed her strokes, inadvertently
lifting the ma