A storm was coming, another one like the night I woke up, all fierce and savage, but that wasn’t what I was looking for.
As pathetic as it sounded, I was looking for tall, dark, and deadly. Another force that was fierce and savage. He came in every morning for breakfast as well as every day for lunch. And, apparently, for dinner as well. Every time I’d come to the café in the evening – because I had no life – he was here, too. A bona fide three-meal-a-dayer.
We had several three-meal-a-dayers, actually, and we had some drop-dead lookers in the bunch, but the regular I both feared and salivated to see was named Reyes Farrow. I only knew that because Cookie ran his card one day and I peeked at the name on it. Where others exuded aggression, deception, and insecurity, he literally dripped confidence, sex, and power. Mostly sex.
Admiration was not my immediate reaction to him, however. The first time I saw him and realized he was something else, something dark and powerful and about as human as a fruit basket, I fought the urge to make my fingers into a cross and say, “I think you’re at the wrong address, buddy. You’re looking for 666 Highway to Hell Avenue. It’s a little farther south.”
Thankfully, I didn’t, because in the very next instant, when my gaze wandered up his lean hips, over his wide shoulders, and landed on his face, I was dumbstruck by his unusual beauty. Then I was all, “I think you’re at the wrong address, buddy. You’re looking for 1707 Howard Street. It’s two blocks over. Key’s under the rock. Clothing is optional.”
Thankfully, I didn’t do that either. I tried not to give out my address, as a rule. But he had a prowess about him, a feral bearing that tugged at my insides any time he was near. I kept my distance. Mostly because he was bathed in fire and a billowing darkness. The kind that sent tiny shudders of unease through my body. The kind that kept me from getting too close for fear of being burned alive.
Of course, it helped that he never sat in my section. Ever. Probably a good thing, but I was starting to get a complex.
He hadn’t come in that morning, though, and that fact had me a little more down than usual. Tormenting Cookie would lift my spirits. It always did.
I spotted Kevin, one of our busboys, through the pass-out window and asked if he could keep an eye on things for me while I took five. He waved, his mouth full of Sumi’s incredible banana pancakes, then went back to his phone.
Grabbing my jacket on the way out, I found Cookie in the alley behind the café, very close to the spot where I woke up. The Firelight Grill sat on a corner lot on Beekman Avenue, in an old brick building with dark inlays intricately placed to create gorgeous arches and carvings, to the utter delight of the tourists. It had a very Victorian feel.
Right next door sat an antiques store, with a dry-cleaning business beyond that. A white delivery van had backed up to the cleaners, and Cookie was busy watching the men haul boxes out.
“Hey, you,” I said, walking to stand beside her.
She smiled and wrapped an arm in mine to pull me closer. Our breaths misted in the chilly air. We huddled together, shivering as I scanned the area for the disturbance I’d felt the moment I stepped outside. A smattering of unease rippled in the air around us. A strong emotional dissonance. A pain.
At first, I thought it was coming from Cookie. Thank goodness it wasn’t. That couple clearly did not take offense. No need to worry about the incident overmuch. But now I was curious about the source.
“How are you doing, sweetie?” Cookie asked.
I refocused on the closest thing to family I had. “I’m more worried about you.”
She chuckled. “I guess if that’s the worst thing I do today, it will be a pretty good day.”
“I agree. On the bright side, after the way you saw to that customer, I see a promising career on a street corner for you. You got skill, girl. We have to work with what God gave us.”
Completely ignoring what I said, she leveled a bright cerulean gaze on me. “And?”
It was almost like she was used to inappropriate, X-rated ribbing. Weird. I nudged a rock with the toe of my ankle boot. They were my