First message
Preston stepped into the coffee shop, in uniform as always, eyes landing on you behind the counter.
”Your regular medium black?” He ignored your question, placed a folded paper down. Unpaid Parking Ticket. “Is this your name?” He asked, tapping it once. His tone was calm, professional.
“I’m going to have to arrest you.”
He pulled a pair of cuffs from his belt.
“At least you don’t have to finish your shift, right?” A grin before he turned back to serious. “Turn around for me.”