The Holy Trinity Series - M.E. Clayton Page 0,3

the dead of night, no one would see me, but I took great care in everything I did. Nothing would lead the cops to my door.

They didn’t call me The Holy Ghost for nothing.

Chapter 2

Francesca~

I stared at the twenty-seven cents on the table, and it was all I could do not to visibly cringe while other customers were still around. I didn’t want to feel ungrateful for the change, but I never understood why people did that. It was insulting and unnecessary. However, scooping up the change along with the dishes, I reminded myself that every little bit helped.

It wasn’t that I was starving or anything like that. I got paid a decent wage at Brighton’s Steak House and, usually, the tips made it possible for me not to have to live paycheck-to-paycheck. But I knew my customer service was worth more than the change I just dropped in my apron. I wasn’t one of those people who thought I was owed a tip, so I made sure to do my best to earn one. I was all smiles and politeness, even to the rude customers.

Plus, I enjoyed my job. Was it what I saw myself doing for the rest of my life? No. But life doesn’t always turn out the way you expect it. A couple of the girls knew I was only a semester away from getting my degree in Business Finance, and they always encouraged me to go back to school, but I was a realist.

Or maybe I was just a loser.

Either way, school wasn’t in the cards for me right now. Or ever if I was being completely honest. I just didn’t have the…drive anymore. When I had graduated from high school, I had been young and eager to conquer the world. I was going to go to college, get my degree, and make a good life for myself. But when that dream died, carving out a nice, quiet, low-key life had become the goal, and I’ve been living it for the past six years.

I finished cleaning off the table and took the dirty dishes back to the kitchen. We had busboys for this, but I liked to keep busy, and being a Tuesday evening, Brighton’s was slow.

“I need some rich, handsome, single stranger to stop in for dinner, fall madly in love with me as soon as he spots me from across the room, and carry me away from this lower-class, change-counting life,” Mona muttered as she dumped a tray of dirty dishes on the counter beside me.

I laughed. “I saw the pictures you posted this weekend,” I informed her. “You wouldn’t be living a lower-class, change-counting life if you didn’t buy top-shelf liquor every weekend.”

Her blue eyes flew sideways, and she smiled. “How else am I supposed to cope with having to count out my change to pay the bills?” she teased. “It’s a vicious cycle, for sure.”

“Well, when you come across that rich, handsome, single stranger ask him if he has a brother,” I joked. “Preferably one who is also single, not gay, has a job, and isn’t an asshole.”

“No rich and handsome?”

I rolled my eyes. “Looks fade, the love of money is the root of all evil, and, Christ, Mona,” I grumbled, “at this point, I’d settle for a man who doesn’t give me a headache when he talks.”

“Amen, sister,” she agreed. “Is Edmond still asking you out?”

The dishes in the dishwasher, I turned towards her. “Yeah, but he just seems too…normal,” I excused lamely. “Plus…I don’t know, Mona. There’s absolutely no butterflies when he flirts with me, and there should be some attraction, don’t you think?”

She laughed. “There’s nothing worse than lugging around a man who doesn’t do it for you. If you don’t feel the butterflies, don’t even bother.” Mona walked out of the kitchen and left me there to stew on my lonely thoughts. Truthfully, the only man who’s ever made me feel butterflies, or any-damn-thing for that matter, was Phoenix Fiore.

I met Phoenix when we were children, five-years-old to be exact. We had all gone to the same neighborhood daycare, and he and my brother, Ciro, had become fast friends. Ciro, being the big brother that he was, always had me with him, so it had been natural to become friends with Phoenix, too.

That was, until we became more.

At seven-years-old, he had told me he was going to marry me and, over the years, our friendship had become more, until I was so in love with the boy,

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