“Excuse me.”

  Ever turned around. “Yes?”

  The balding man placed his cup of ice cream on the glass display with a clatter, a complex look on his face. It was fear and… greed? Ever was getting better at reading straightforward, strong emotions, but not blended ones. There were sweat patches under both of his armpits.

  “You put hazelnut ice cream in there. I’m allergic to it. I wanted pistachio.”

  “I’m sorry about that, let me make a new one for you right away.”

  “I don’t want a new one, I want compensation.”

  Ever looked at the man blankly. “Compensation? Is that another word for a refund?”

  “No!” The man barked, a little too loudly. It was the hottest day in June for years and all the indoor and outdoor tables had people sitting and enjoying their ice creams. Everyone within earshot had gone quiet and was looking at the exchange between Ever and the unhappy customer.

  “I’m the manager here,” Taylor said. Her practiced customer service smile hadn’t appeared for the last hour or so. “What’s the matter?”

  “Your employee made a smart ass comment when I said that I wanted compensation for him almost killing me by giving me hazelnut ice cream, which I’m allergic to.”

  “So you didn’t eat it then,” Taylor said.

  “Ex-excuse me?” The customer stammered.

  The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

  “You’re not having an allergic reaction right now.”

  “Are you accusing me of lying?” The man hissed.

  Taylor grabbed the ice cream cup the man had placed between them. “Wait, what are you -” She dug out a spoonful of the beige ice cream and put it in her mouth. “That’s my ice cream! I paid for that!”

  “I’m testing for allergens,” Taylor said. “That tastes like pistachio to me. I know you can’t eat it, so I’m happy to review security footage,” she gestured towards the camera in the corner of the ceiling.

  The man clenched his fists, fresh beads of sweat forming on his head. He stormed out without another word.

  —-

  The door was shut, the sun had set. Taylor and Ever were cleaning up.

  “That customer before was lying, the one who said that I had scooped hazelnut. I knew that I had given him pistachio. Why did he do that?”

  Taylor was in the backroom, just out of sight. No answer. Maybe she couldn’t hear him.

  He said he wanted compensation, aka lots of money. Wasn’t entitled to any of it. Never my place to say, but souls like that I always hated reaping. They always got last priority, Death said.

  Ever thought back to how his face looked. Fear and greed. It was never about the ice cream.

  “How do people contort their faces like tha-”

  “Stop.” Taylor snapped, cutting off Ever. “If you knew that you didn’t screw up, why didn’t you call him out on it?”

  Ever was lost for words. “I… I didn’t know how to.”

  “And what is your deal, with all the bullshit questions? ‘How do people contort their faces?’, ‘how do you change your face?’”

  “I… I’m trying to learn.”

  “Well, I’m done teaching you.”

  Ever stared at Taylor. She glared back, her blazing eyes belying the shadows underneath them.

  Best to go for now.

  Ever left and Taylor locked the door behind him, continuing to close up by herself.