“You’re sure you won’t take any money for gas?” I questioned, accepting my suitcase from Jack’s hands. He was happy, but I couldn’t decide if he was just generally good-natured or if he was high as a kite. Either way, it was strangely calming.
“Not at all. I like helping people.”
“But,” I shook my head, “this is the second thing you’ve done for me in a day, Jack. At least come here sometime soon and let me repay you with coffee.”
“Deal.” He extended his hand to mine, slapping our palms together in agreement. “You sure you’ll be okay alone? I can give you my number if you want someone to call. I can’t imagine it’s too cozy around here at night.”
“It certainly can be frightening to the unaware,” Julian’s words tumbled from my lips, “but I know my surroundings. Nobody in their right mind would come out in this anyway.”
“Except us.” Jack laughed, his chuckle warming the snow-laden air. I was flattered with his humor and the gentle grin against his mouth. I couldn’t remember if he moved in before or after I went into the hospital, but I made a mental note to make him brownies or something sometime. Truthfully, I dreaded walking across the city in the middle of the night in a blizzard. It was Jack, my feet, or Satan’s luxurious, black chariot.
I spun from Jack’s departure, my suitcase in the protective grasp of my frigid arms, and studied the exterior of our shop. It was a monochromatic melody, the creamy bricks blending into the white night. Traffic lights flashed across the nearby intersections with no response, no movement. Nobody was out there. I was alone, vulnerable, but more aware than I’d ever been. I knew exactly what waited for me in the dangerous night: demons, one wanting me alive and the other wanting me dead, both for reasons I couldn’t comprehend.
The snow wasn’t plowed along the sidewalk in front of the building. Emma must not have come in at all today. That’s a few thousand down the drain. Rattling my mind to reprioritize thoughts, I trudged through the snow with my suitcase toward the alley entrance of the shop. The silence, itself muffled in layers of snow, enveloped me in a delusion of safety, of solitude, while I entered the code at the backdoor. Three beeps sang from the keypad, and I heard the lock switch, allowing my entrance. Shivering while I shook the flakes from my hair and shoulders, I entered the backroom and dropped my suitcase on the tile floor. The intense aroma of coffee was quickly sobering, reviving my soul to ease the transition back to reality. I was in the store alone before, enjoying the hum of only my own heart and mind, but knowing nobody was expected to interrupt, while my brain would surely reflect on the last two days, was painfully distracting. I kicked my suitcase while I walked, heading toward the office.
It was a chaotic mess, just as I left it. PJ. Pre-Julian. And there went my mind, flipping like an eager switch to him. And his damn smile. If he sincerely expected me to ever acknowledge his existence, he had a strange way of showing his interest and intent. Kidnapping someone and omitting information were two steps toward never speaking with someone again. My cellphone and purse were tucked into a drawer of the desk, waiting for me as though I only stepped out for a moment. A moment that altered my life, a moment that aged me. I noticed the flashing red light on the screen of my phone, informing me its battery supply was low, but it had enough life to tell me Elliott called one hundred and thirty-seven times and texted fifty. Talk about a stalker. A stalker with a guilty conscience.
I wanted to return his calls, a natural instinct to communicate with him, but I shut off my phone and dropped it back into the drawer. I had to stop somewhere. I closed my eyes. The morning would arrive faster than I wished and, from experience, I knew it was going to be an uncomfortable night on the tile floor of the coffee shop. I reached around the desk to where I dropped my suitcase, unzipping it to find a few things to use as a pillow. Stuffing the sweatshirt and cardigan into a ball beneath my head, I nestled onto the cold floor beneath the desk, wishing to make it through the night. Well, this fucking sucks.
I stirred from a dreamless sleep, so void of imagery that my mind woke feeling haunted. A clanking sound, metallic and rough, repeated its interruption.
“Shit,” her voice groaned while approaching the office. I wobbled to my feet, numbness tingling from my awkward sleeping position. She groaned profanities once more, shuffling footsteps bounding in my direction. I moved around the desk, my hand reaching for the doorknob just as her key wiggled into the lock. The panel crashed into me, stubbing my numb toes and knocking my elbows.
“Oh my God!” Emma shrieked, clenching her heart to subdue her fright. “Aideen!” Her eyes were quick to lock on the floor as she absorbed the fact I stood across from her.
“Sorry I scared you. I’m only here to work.” I glared at Emma, somehow expecting her to apologize for Elliott’s inadequacies as a human being. Watching Emma’s red eyes widen with worry, I felt my heart sink even further into my stomach. I can’t treat her like rubbish. She couldn’t have known Elliott was so demented.
“I’m sorry.” I approached Emma, wrapping my arms around her neck so tightly that my clavicle ached with the sharp pain of our embrace. “It’s not you. I just—”
“I talked to him,” she whispered beneath our hug, reminding me Elliott was real. “Elliott’s been calling me nonstop, Aid. He’s a wreck. What can I do? What is happening?”
“I’m drinking a lot.” How tragic.
Emma shrugged, fighting a smile. “Anything good?”
“Riesling.”
“I would’ve guessed margaritas, but whatever gets you through the night. God, Aid. I had no idea. I swear to you.”
I released our embrace as we stepped into the hall outside the office. The bright radiance of a snowy morning peered in through the windows, its glow reflected in the shop while we spoke.
“I don’t even know what to think, Emma. Your brother stole all my money, all our money, when I was barely alive because of your cousin, and then borrowed more money from someone Malcolm knew. It’s like he couldn’t just leave it be. He felt depressed. Well, Emma, I’m sorry, but that’s shit. Complete and utter shit.”
“He didn’t tell me all of that. Ell told me he borrowed money from the shop and couldn’t pay it back.” The contract. It hit me like a raging nor’easter wind.
“Elliott borrowed money from Malcolm that he couldn’t repay because he used up all of our money while I was in the hospital.” My eyes squinted while I processed the pieces and spoke to Emma, her posture stiffening with each detail. “Because of Malcolm. What does he do when we’re completely dried up?”
“What?” Her eyes were wide, naïvely eager for me to finish Elliott’s story. I covered my face, squeezing my forehead with both hands as the pieces fell.
“He signed a deal with the Molloys. For money.”
“So?” I wanted to kick Emma in the face. Kick her. A frustrated sigh left my lips while I stepped into the shop, scouring the refrigerator while thinking of how to explain what I could know to Emma.
“We’re out of almond milk,” I noted, moving cartons around on the middle shelf. “I’ll have to run out for some.”
“Wait.” Emma closed the door, catching my attention. “So what if he signed a deal with them? They’re politicians. They’re supposed to do helpful things for local businesses. What is the big deal?” I forgot Emma didn’t know. She wouldn’t know. I was the one who saw the gun, knew the evil behind Julian’s smile—well, only what he bestowed upon me. There’s so much more.
“I’m going to run to the store for more milk before we open.” And if I don’t get out of here right now, I’m going to explode and probably kill you just because you’re Elliott’s sister. She nodded reluctantly, her manicured brows furrowed above her large, round eyes. Son of a bitch.
He was sitting at a table near the back of the shop when I returned. I pretended not to see, my heart optimistic that he wouldn’t see me either. But he’s clearly there. He has to know I’m coming to work. I squeezed between some businessmen already lined up for their order, keeping my eyes to the ground. If I can’t see him, he can’t see me. But I did see him. I wanted to see him, in some twisted and totally wrong way. The tug was there. I needed to know I wasn’t having a nightmare, even though he brought me nothing but fear. Not true. He brought you a cell phone. And he did bring himself to save your drunk ass.
Keeping my eyes glued to the paper bag between my arms, I scurried toward the register where Emma retrieved change. She rocked on her feet, limiting how swiftly I could move behind her, so I stood like a sitting duck within fifteen feet of Julian. My back was on fire, burning with the awareness of him.
“Oh.” Emma blushed, noticing my return while I stood glowering at her. “I didn’t see you come back. You want bar or register?”
“Bar.” Because that means Julian can’t talk to me. I’ll keep myself busy until I can think of exactly how to ask about the contract without him putting me off or threatening me. I dropped the almond milk into the refrigerator and quickly tossed my purse and coat into the office before returning, pausing at the corner to survey my surroundings. Emma leaned against her elbows and flipped through the screen of her phone with no customers in line. I counted, scanning the shop. There were two college kids at one table with their laptops and textbooks, an elderly man with his newspaper, and two men in suits sitting near the door. Let’s not forget you-know-fucking-who and his silver companion.
In the secrecy of my corner, I peered around to where Julian sat when I came in from buying milk. Just the sight of him tore through my chest, my eyes tingled with the searing promise of tears. My mind fell back to a day prior when he rescued me. He killed for me. God, I’m such a bitch. No. Not true. He hasn’t told me a thing and expects me to grovel at his feet.
He was relaxed, calmly sitting by the window. He leaned over the table, his cell phone pressed up to his right ear so his periphery was blocked. Whew! Stepping into civilization, I glanced once more at Julian. He wasn’t in his normal suit. Had hell frozen over? I couldn’t see his legs, but the top half of Julian’s body was covered by a dark charcoal cashmere sweater that hung snugly around every curve of his biceps, shattering Emma’s heart. Not mine. Nope. In fact, screw him. What the hell is he doing here?
“Hey.” Emma smiled, her face lifting from her phone to acknowledge the outside world. “Slow morning. You’re being watched.” Tell me about it.
“Aid.” She spun around to grab my hand, stopping my path as I dangled within her grasp. “Look at the window.” Nope.
“That’s cool. I guess we make good coffee if the elite want it. Why don’t you go and introduce yourself?” Emma’s face reddened.
“Uh…” She giggled, her head shaking while turning away from me. “No.”
I shook espresso grounds from the machine and began preparing my potion. Emma sighed as she approached my left, her hand tapping my arm as she walked past me into the back room. No. Don’t leave. My eyes followed her trail to the right as she slunk into the darkness behind the corner. I reached for the jar of honey without looking, having memorized the espresso bar.
“Where’d you go last night?” Dammit.
I closed my eyes, buying time to think of my response. Something about Julian’s tone, reminding me of his unwavering help in saving my life, filled me with guilt, desperate to apologize. Yet I wasn’t prepared to apologize to a murdering psychopath, no matter how handsome he might be.
“I’m surprised you didn’t have me tracked,” I muttered, squeezing honey into the cloudy glass. Julian leaned against the counter, domineering and powerful, reminding me with just his hip pressed against the lip of the countertop that he controlled more than I could comprehend. His left palm rested against the counter, balancing his frame while he silently watched me. I reached for a spoon, mixing the honey and espresso with my almond milk, mesmerized by the swirling caramel melody.
“Aideen,” he snapped, a low, gruff demand that I pay more attention to him than my coffee. But…it’s coffee. It’s more important than anything and anyone. I lifted the cup to my lips, not really giving a shit at that moment, and closed my eyes while the hot caffeinating slurp of heaven glided through my lips and down my throat. God, this is delicious.
He repeated my name, his voice slightly closer. I peeked through one squinted eye, noticing Julian stood an entire foot closer to me than before I ignored him to drink my coffee. Creeper.
“What?” I shrugged, taking another sip, focusing on how slowly it fell into my belly, feeling the warmth spread throughout my middle. I responded to his fingers around my wrist with wide eyes as I held the cup to my mouth.
“Put down the coffee.”
“Can’t.”
“Why’s that, Aideen?”
“Too tired.”
“If you’d slept on an actual bed, you wouldn’t be having that dilemma.”
I looked at him, my brow furrowed with sarcastic skepticism. “Like you care.”
“Actually,” his hold tightened ever so slightly, gently securing his fingers around my skin, “I do. Very much so.”
“Right,” I scoffed, wiggling from his grasp. “Business partner. Got it.” I winked at him, shaking my head at the ridiculous notion that he cared, that he could even move beyond his role as an elitist wannabe senator, probably with millions of dollars, to acknowledge I was a real human with actual feelings.
“Excuse me,” a young man interrupted Julian’s possession of me, his hand quick to fall to his side. “I’m looking for Emma Daly.”
“She’s in the back. I’m Aideen.” I nodded, swallowing another swig of my latte and spinning around Julian’s right side. His hand squeezed mine in the brief second we were next to one another, our hips touched, and I paused to look up at him curiously. I hushed the nagging tickle in my core.
“He can wait,” Julian warned through a low whisper. Winking my right eye at Mr. Senator, I brushed by and approached the man standing on the opposite side of the counter.
“How can I help you?” I inquired of the young man, completely aware of Julian standing off to my side. I could sense him with eyes closed. My mind buzzed with the smell of his cologne, the sweet and intoxicating nutmeg that lingered around like a freshly baked batch of cookies, with enough musk and masculinity to drive someone insane. Not me. Nope. Strictly business.
“I saw the advertisement on your website. I hoped I could talk to one of you about the position you have available.”
“Position?” Julian grunted, his voice now vibrating from the espresso machine, stealthily off in the darkness. I ignored him, knowing I’d pay for it somehow later, but not wishing to engage with the demon quite yet. I licked my lips mid-thought, catching a muffled cough coming from the espresso machine.
“Sure. Let me get Emma and she can talk about it. Just wait here.”
He eagerly nodded, agreeing with my statement, and began removing his coat. I turned to the right, preparing to find Emma in the back, when Julian’s mumbled words filled my ears.
“What position, Aideen?” I may as well have some fun with this.
“Any position I’d like, I suppose.” I smirked at him, flashing my own venomous grin, before carrying on toward the back where Emma stood filling a tin with dark roast coffee beans. She looked up at me, her eyes widening at my shadow.
“You put something on the website,” I told her, ignoring the devil on my shoulder. “Some guy is here about the position.”
“Well…with Elliott—”
I shook my head. “Emma, just go talk to him. I’m fine with whatever.” I watched Emma finish sorting the coffee beans and wipe her hands against the thighs of her jeans when she straightened.
“Um,” she squeezed by Julian and me, “okay.” I turned around, ready to follow her, but Julian stepped in front of me.
“You’re not my fucking security detail,” I grumbled, afraid to look up at him. His arm lowered from the wall, giving me an exit, but neither of us moved.
“If you weren’t such a magnet, I could trust you on your own. You slept here, didn’t you?” I watched his gaze travel behind me into the backroom.
“Where did you sleep, Mr. Molloy?”
His shoulders relaxed as his hands stuffed into his pockets. Julian smiled at me, the same grin that he showed me while laughing for the first time in his apartment. It was subtle, but beautiful, and relaxed, as though allowing me to briefly see something otherwise held from the outside world. I’m thinking too deeply about it. He is smiling because he is a smug bastard. Nothing more.
“My bed.” He lifted a hand from his pocket, knuckles slowly grazing my left cheek, ablaze in his wake. “I didn’t sleep well either, though, if it’s any consolation.”
“Ha.” I stifled my laughter. “A consolation? That would suggest I actually care about your feelings, pal.”
“I’m glad we’re friends now,” he teased, his fist opening to cup my face. “We’re one step closer. Aren’t you the least bit curious as to why my sleep was so miserable?” Yes.
“Not the least bit,” I mocked in reply, watching Julian lick his lips between a bright grin.
“You’re a terrible liar, Aideen.” His expression changed, the smile disappearing as his face leaned closer to mine. “You were just as lonely as me. You always have been.”