I leaned in. “I cannot believe this,” I snapped and shook my head because I really couldn’t. “Which one of you started the rumor about last night?” I asked.
Sniff went silent and I got my answer.
“So, you’re sitting around waiting for one of the Nightingale Boys to show up, is that it?” I went on.
“Wanna talk to Crowe,” Roam finally spoke.
I opened my mouth to reply, or maybe yell (okay, probably yell) but I was interrupted.
“Hey woman,” the big guy behind the espresso counter boomed at me and I looked at him, “you wanna latte? I’ll make you my special. On the house.”
His generosity was a surprise and I looked around the room again.
Most of the customers from around the espresso counter had cleared; the rest of the folks who looked like regulars were all watching me openly and grinning like lunatics. I didn’t want to upset the lunatic asylum and didn’t know how it’d look if I waltzed in, yelled at a couple of runaways and didn’t buy a coffee.
So I said to the big man, “Sure.”
“I’m Tex,” he informed me, even though I didn’t ask, and he started banging on the espresso machine in an alarming way.
“I’m Jules,” I replied because I didn’t want to appear rude.
“She’s called Law,” Sniff declared loudly.
Oh crap.
“Law?” The blonde behind the espresso counter walked to our side and looked at us, smiling. Her smile was amazing and, for a second, I was dazzled.
“Yeah. She’s Law. Street name. Got it ‘cause she’s The Law. Gonna bring down all the dealers. She goes out huntin’ ‘em down at night, just like Batman,” Sniff announced.
“Enough, Sniff,” I said, my voice low.
The blonde’s eyes turned to me. They’d grown round.
In fact, the whole place had gone silent and there was a tremor in the air that was almost physical.
Then the big man pointed at me and boomed, “Fuckin’ A, darlin’!” Then he threw his head back and shouted, “Yee ha!”
Yikes.
Indy, the blonde and the Dolly Parton lady had approached us.
“Seriously?” the blonde from the book counter asked, staring at me.
I glared at Sniff.
“I’m Indy.” The redhead came up to me and shook my hand, saving me from having to answer.
“Jet,” the blonde behind the espresso counter said and waved.
“I’m Roxie,” the blonde from the book counter put in, she shook my hand too.
“Daisy. Sugar, I like your boots,” the Dolly Parton woman offered, also shaking my hand but she was looking down at my shiny, black cowboy boots. They were a Christmas present from Nick the year before.
“Me too,” Indy said, “they’re the shit.”
“Um… thanks,” I replied as the bell over the door went.
“Holy f**k,” Roam breathed from behind me.