《The Coffee Shop》
Prologue
¡°I make deals,¡± he said.
I don''t think I could ever forget the look in his eyes. Lawrence had been coming to my shop since I opened it. Before I had the vendor lines set in stone and before the 5-star reviews started coming in; he was there.
He would come in around half past 6, Monday through Friday, and order his coffee. When I expanded the menu he would order a bagel and every so often he wanted something cold.
Regular was an understatement, Lawrence was loyal to a fault. He didn¡¯t want to invest in the shop, and he didn¡¯t want money or recognition.
¡°I don¡¯t want you to retire.¡± A cocky half-smirk had graced his face.
If we are telling the story honestly, I laughed. The expression lit up his face and I nearly blushed. But the longer I looked at him, the funnier I found the whole conversation. I laughed so hard that he chuckled in turn.
¡°I don¡¯t ever want you to retire,¡± he had said when I caught my breath again.
What we don¡¯t realize about the universe we live in is that extraordinary people look exactly like the ordinary ones. They have dark brown hair and murky hazel eyes. They come in for coffee and quietly read their paperback books. They never hint at what may lay beneath the surface if they don¡¯t have a reason to.
The monsters lay in the shadows and the heroes hide in plain and sight, and while Lawrence was neither he played by the same set of rules. I don¡¯t know exactly how he knew, but I had been getting ready to retire that next summer. I was getting older and I was getting tired. I wasn¡¯t sure I wanted to run the dim little shop for the rest of my short, human, life when it was all I had ever known.Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
He had held his hand out to me that day, waiting for me to seal the deal. Shake his hand and take him up on an offer I didn¡¯t understand.
¡°How?¡± I asked him. One little word was my entire response to an offer of immortality if I can make you believe it.
His lips curled upward, scanning my face for some sign he needed to proceed.
¡°I told you, I make deals. I have made deals with angels and demons, and I have life to spare.¡±
I won¡¯t lie to you. I hemmed and hawed, and ended up sitting at a table in my own shop late into the night. I asked a lot of unimportant questions that skirted the real issues. His face held an expression of amusement the entire night, showing no signs of impatience or tiredness.
It was in the early morning hours of the next day that he reached his hand out once more. My heart beat in my chest with fear and anticipation. I reached my hand into his, clamping down on his cool skin with a small lump in my throat. I watched our hands move up and then down again, and even as his fingers relaxed around my hand, I stayed clamped down.
I felt like I had known Lawrence most of my life and was looking at a completely different version of him. I had watched him sit at his table in the corner for many years and never known the most important details about him or his life.
At the end- I guess it''s similar to most relationships people have. We think of strangers as friends because we are used to seeing their faces.
This was the night I realized I knew nothing. I knew nothing about him, and nothing about the people around me. He had lifted the veil and changed my entire life.
It¡¯s been 150 years since then, and I can still remember his face. I remember every smirk he made that night, and every word he said. He had delayed my retirement, and opened my eyes, and made me so much more aware than I ever knew I wanted to be.
Some days- I get sad I missed a normal life. Others, I look back and remember the night we had made our deal.
My hand squeezing his long after he had finished the handshake. He had smiled broadly, looking at my face with an eyebrow raised. ¡°Welcome to my world, Samantha.¡±
My heart had never beat so hard against my chest. I didn¡¯t know much about him, but I knew I was ready to spend eternity seeing that smile every day.
Chapter 1 - part 1
The sun had bathed my shop in its warm light before I realized what time it was.
I hadn¡¯t planned a day off that day, but as I blinked at my door, I knew I had another decision to make. I should have had the first pots brewed already and the doors unlocked.
My eyes traveled from the shimmering glass back to Lawrence, sitting across from me.
¡°A day off? I can get some rest and you can come back tomorrow and fill me in on anything I missed.¡± The second the words came out of my mouth I felt weight shift. A weight released from my shoulders, reminding me that I had spent a night negotiating for immortality, and another piled into my mind.
I had been awake for 24 hours, and every moment made the situation feel more surreal.
He let out a laughed and leaned further back in his chair. His legs stretched out in front of him, one ankle sitting atop the other. His arms crossed against his chest, he let his lips fade into that half smirk, half smile he had worn so much the night before.
¡°A day off,¡± he said, glancing at the sun behind me. ¡°I¡¯m not a slave driver, Samantha. The shop is still yours. Your life is still yours.¡±
I couldn¡¯t help myself. My lips curled upwards, showing off the teeth I needed to brush after too much coffee. ¡°I¡¯m still my boss.¡±
A short chuckle left his chest that time. ¡°Of course.¡±
After a few minutes of odd silence, he reached his hand out one more time. Our deal had been struck already, it was time to say goodbye. My eyes looked at the smooth skin of his hand and lost a train of thought on the time he had spent in my coffee shop.
Sleep-deprived and reminiscent, I tried to recall the day I had first seen him. I had a hundred memories of him holding a mug, slim body nestled in a lounge chair. It was easy to recall a thousand nameless books, bright colors and odd pictures resting on the front and back covers of them. I could picture his unassuming yet sauntering walk, but I couldn¡¯t pinpoint the very first time I had seen him.Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.
¡°Samantha?¡± he asked, in an apparent effort to get my attention.
I shook my head at my name and reached my hand out into his. In a day we had gone from employee and customer to¡this.
¡°Monday.¡± Looking up as he stood, I made eye contact to confirm the arrangement.
I looked ahead at the wall as he walked away from the table. The door opened, ringing the small bell at the top, and then it closed, doubling the sound.
Silence sat in the coffee shop. For whatever it was worth, no other customers had come knocking at the door. The doors would need to be locked, and I hadn¡¯t done a single thing to clean. Shaking my head once again to clear my thoughts I pushed my palms against the table to scoot the chair out and stood.
Within a few moments, I had grabbed my purse from the break room. No one would be hurt by the chairs sitting on the floor for a few hours. My other regulars would never notice that the floor hadn¡¯t been swept today, and no one but me would ever know that I didn¡¯t make it to the bank tonight.
With a deep breath, I taped a piece of paper over the open/closed sign and locked the door behind me.
All those little facts nestled in my thoughts as I drove home. My purse landed somewhere on the table, and thankful that I didn¡¯t have even a goldfish to take care of at that moment, I crawled into bed. I lie in-between the cotton sheets with the un-swept floors running in-between every thought I had.
My shop had been my life-blood for longer than I cared to admit. I pour my savings, life, and energy into it. I brought it from an empty box to a success. As the lids closed around my eyes blocking out the morning sun, I thought about retirement again.
The cafe was sell-able. Yet instead, a deal had been brokered.
I took a deep breath in and pictured Lawrence''s face the moment he made his offer to me. The first night of many that I picture his deep-set eyes.
As the breath left my mouth, I can say with some certainty I was asleep. I slept faster and harder than I had any other night of my life. The mental toll had zapped my insomnia for 8 straight hours, something I would later be increasingly thankful for.
Groaning from a lack of real movement, my eyes opened well after my usual lunchtime. Hungry, stiff, and confused about the time of day, I forced my body upright. I swung my feet over the edge of my bed and noticed my socks were still on from the day before.
Pulling both arms above my head I looked across the room toward the dresser. The holder of my clothes, my alarm clock, and the only picture of my mother, it was the centering point of my mornings and my nights.
A whimpering sound left my throat as I locked eyes; not with my clock but with a woman standing next to the wooden dresser, a smile on her face
Chapter 1 - Part 2
I blinked and opened my mouth to force a more direct noise out.
¡°Welcome, Samantha.¡± The woman said, her lips spreading further across her face.
The expression revealed a mouth full of straight, white teeth. It was like looking at a picture of a fake jaw at a dentists office.
The bottom of my jaw found its way back to up to the rest of my mouth, where it tried to glue itself shut. I swallowed a hard ball of air as I tried to ready my body to wake all the way up and actually speak to the intruder.
¡°Lawrence must really like his coffee,¡± she said in the continued silence.
¡°Who are you? Why are you in my house? How do you know Lawrence?¡± I asked rapid-fire.
The words all came barreling out of me, and the last question surprised me. In a series of questionable decisions, I had chosen to ask the least relevant question I could think of.
The woman laughed. It was a belly laugh that resonated through my body. A joyous sound that in happy circumstances would have been contagious, but at that moment ¡ª it felt as if it were at my expense. She was laughing at me, and I couldn¡¯t tell which part of me.
It may as well have been everything for all it mattered. She stood uninvited in my bedroom.
¡°Who the hell are you?¡± I asked as the anger built in my chest.
Catching her breath, she wiped her eyes dry. ¡°Clarissa. I guess he meant it when he said you jumped.¡±
To call it annoying that she was still smiling at me was an understatement. ¡°How did you get in here?¡± I asked, raising my voice for the first time.
¡°The same way I¡¯ll leave,¡± she said and gave me and winked.
It was an exaggerated and dramatic wink. The importance of it was entirely lost on me.
¡°Wha-¡± I started to ask when my cell phone rang, causing music to echo through the room.
I gave up the question with a heavy sigh and a raised eyebrow in ¡®Clarissas¡¯ direction. The short tune started over, and I knew I needed to find my phone. I had vendors, employees, and customers and I had taken the day off unplanned.
I looked away from the wall she leaned on and looked on my nightstand for my phone. It wasn¡¯t there ¡ª I must have left it in my purse when I stumbled through the house. My eyes narrowed and I looked back towards the wall. I thought I was going to get rude and then return the call on top of it. The entire exchange was odd on top of anxiety-inducing.
a stranger was in my house.
To make the entire matter worse, my eyes landed on a blank wall and one inanimate dresser. In the blink of an eye, the strange woman was no longer there.Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.
I didn¡¯t hear footsteps or the front door open and close. The only thing I could hear was the music of my ring tone, fading out one last time. After that it was silence.
It was an odd silence that sat inside my house for the rest of the day. I couldn¡¯t figure out how she had gotten in, or how she had gotten out so fast. The front door was locked when I went to check, and none of the windows were open.
The house is flat but it only has so many entrances, and it seemed as if she hadn¡¯t used any of them.
The rest of the day was not only silent but overtly normal.
I settled the matter on the missed phone call after pouring a cup of coffee. It was the only call that came through my phone that day. I got no texts and no emails that would normally aggravate me so close to a Friday.
In 24 hours I had gone from normal, to my entire life appears to change, to normal once again.
If you have never spent an afternoon in solitude after a big life event, you may not understand how hollow your gut can feel. There exists a silence that is deeper than just a quiet afternoon, and this is how I felt all day. I had no drive to leave the house, but the walls were slowly moving in on me.
I was restless by the time my normal bedtime rolled around, and I thought I was going to fall right back into my old sleeping pattern. A shit pattern that meant I drank more cups of coffee at work than my customers did, and even then I would barely make it through the day sometimes.
Silence can be deafening, and it truly was that day.
I was thankful when my alarm went off the next morning before sunrise.
If an alarm wakes you up, it means you fell asleep at some point; and I couldn¡¯t have asked for anything more. I wanted to rest, and to start the next day with a little bit of energy.
No strange women in my bedroom and no phone calls to contend with I rolled out of bed and started the day the same way I always did. A shower, a hot mug of liquid caffeine, and a short drive to the shop. I unlocked the glass doors and noticed with a smile that no one had taken the note off my closed sign.
No one else had come to open.
Probably for the better. I would have to double check the schedule to see who was supposed to be there, but I hadn¡¯t planned on leaving the responsibility with anyone else. It didn¡¯t matter if other people knew how to open if they weren¡¯t actually expected to do it.
The mess from that night was still laying around but I didn¡¯t mind that either. As I set my purse on a shelf in the break room, I wondered if any of it had actually happened. My hands tied my apron behind my back the same way it always had, and my feet carried me over the wood floor like nothing had happened.
Even a simple person like myself wouldn¡¯t think that the rules of the universe would change over a long night and a handshake. I shook my head and turned the register on.
My body fell into routine before I even knew what was happening. Lost in my thoughts I had turned the register on, starting the coffee brewing, and set the espresso bowls aside to rinse. I had left grounds in them when I had left in a hurry, and my checklist wouldn¡¯t allow the fresh brew to pass through dirty equipment.
I brought out spare containers of milk and was checking the status of the ice maker when I heard the bell on the door jingle.
Something about the sound stopped my body in the middle of its action. The freezer was wide open with my fingers around the handle, and my eyes were staring at the box without really seeing it. Despite the fact that all of my thoughts were still churning in my head, my body was refusing to move.
I heard footsteps approach the counter even in the back of the kitchen, and I felt my heart skip a beat.
¡°Samantha?¡± a voice called from the front counter.
The breath I had been holding finally left my chest, forcing me back into reality. I straightened my back and closed the freezer door. My hands compulsively straightened my apron before I turned, and walked out of the back room and behind the register.
I felt the corners of my mouth tug upwards as I made eye contact with Lawrence. I knew it would be him, yet was somehow just a little bit surprised. I looked at the time on the register screen and couldn¡¯t stop a chuckle from leaving my mouth.
6:29 A.M.
Chapter 1 - part 3
I admit that I hadn¡¯t realized time was still moving after I checked the time. I knew that the week had been strange, and despite him being the catalyst for most of it ¡ª he was also hard wired into my routine. Him standing there, blue eyes staring at me, just settled me further into the normalcy of my life.
My thoughts ran away, and before I knew it his mouth was moving.
¡°Samantha¡?¡± He raised an eyebrow, looking at my face intently.
Shaking my head, I checked the clock again. Two entire minutes I had stood there, spacing out as I looked at him. It was embarrassing, to say the least.
¡°Yeah!¡± I responded, hoping to pull some of my dignity back.
A short chuckle flowed out of Lawrence as his face relaxed. ¡°The coffee brewed yet?¡± he asked.
¡°Ahh.¡± I held a finger up before turning away from him. ¡°The coffee is always brewing. Number one imperative.¡± I grabbed a large cup from the top of the stack, and let muscle memory continue to take me along the morning''s tasks.
A knuckle pushed in the lever and the hot liquid splashed against the bottom of the stiff paper. The smell hit my nostrils, and if I didn¡¯t know any better I would say I heard him breathe as it hit his.
I knew it was my imagination- who could hear a small breath over the sound of the machines in front of me?
In a flash, the coffee was an inch from the top, and my hands were clipping the plastic lid on top. I blinked and my hands were holding the cup out, watching as he grabbed the cup from me, and scoffed.
¡°I was gonna sit.¡±
I blinked again, trying to reconnect my thoughts and my actions. ¡°If you can find a seat.¡±
Lawrence turned his head and scanned the empty shop and let out a laugh. ¡°Yeah, We¡¯ll see.¡±
A moment later he had walked away and sat down in his corner. It was almost an everyday moment.
With my nostrils full of coffee beans, I turned on my heels. The rest of the morning tasks still needed to be done. If I was going to keep running the place, I had to do the work.
The daylight waned and somehow came again the next day. The weekend came, and the next week rolled through without incident. I did exactly what everyone around me expected me to do, and after a while, I thought to myself that the entire thing must have been a dream.
I took Sunday off and sat on my couch, stuck with boring ownership tasks. Balancing books and keeping vendors in line. It was tedious, and by the time I opened the bottle of Moscato that night, I remembered why I had been dreaming of retirement.Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.
An entire month went by the same way. The same routine with my same regular customers. It was nice- in a way. Until one Wednesday morning, Clarissa walked through the doors.
With half a dozen customers that had come in shortly after I opened, I almost didn''t spare the thought. The sound of the bell hit my ears as I was pouring a pot of cooled coffee into the pitcher. The leftovers of yesterdays ice coffee were about to run out. I raised an eyebrow, and after a beat, I decided to look up.
My eyes saw the woman and looked away to empty my hands. When they looked up again it hit, and I felt my breath catch in my throat for one long second. A groan left my throat, and with nothing else to do, before she hit the counter, I straightened the apron around my waist.
Clarissa, in her short black dress, stopped a few steps past the door. Her head moved as she scanned the cafe. Briefly scanning the faces of the customers that had chosen to sit among the tables, and stopping when she had made it all the way around to the back corner.
There was no need to guess who she was looking for. At 10 til 7, Lawrence was still sitting in the lounge chair that seemed to be a temporary home while he drank his coffee. A staple in that corner of the shop, her head stopped and I couldn¡¯t see her full expression but by her frozen shoulders and clenched fist- I had my guesses.
I had seen her laugh. A joyous contagious laugh that made you want to smile even if she was laughing at your expense. I had seen her appear out of nowhere and leave in the blink of an eye. I imagine that somewhere in my nightmares I had also seen her look of anger and disapproval.
She cleared her throat. Despite the ambient noise, it was loud enough to make her target look up from his paperback book and notice her. The second he did she turned and finally made her way up to the counter.
I don¡¯t think I could have moved in that moment had I tried. My shoes were superglued to the wooden floor. Common exchanges led me to think that I wasn¡¯t a very timid person. I handled angry customers, raging drivers, and all the loud people that walked the streets in the big city. But as her heels tapped against the floor on the way to me, I felt my face get warm. The blood pounded in my ears, and the only thing I could do was take another breath.
¡°Look-¡± Clarissa said when she had made her way up to me. She placed the fingertips of one hand on the top of the counter, her pearl-white fingernails contrasting the dark cherry wood. ¡°I don¡¯t want to cause a scene in your¡¡±
She paused, looking around as if to try and formulate the proper word.
¡°Coffee shop?¡± Lawrence said from behind her.
Clarissa¡¯s eyes widened as if startled before she turned to face him. She stood that way for a moment before adjusting her body so she could see both of us.
I understood her expression more than I would have liked to admit- he had snuck up on both of us, and I had been looking that direction.
¡°Coffee shop,¡± she repeated, making a face like the words physically hurt to say. ¡°But you two have been sitting around for weeks now. Drinking coffee,¡± she raised an eyebrow at Lawrence before continuing her little speech. ¡°Playing house and making faces at each other- or whatever the hell it is you two do here.¡±
My eyebrows furrowed deep on my face as I felt the indignation rise. ¡°Excuse me?¡±
¡°It doesn¡¯t matter,¡± Clarissa continued with barely a glance in my direction. ¡°The point is that both of you sit here every day and ignore the fact that the rest of us are out there doing what needs to be done. I am getting my ass handed to me, Lawrence.¡±
He rolled his eyes.
There was something about the gesture that made me chuckle, relaxing the muscles in the rest of my face.
He glanced my way as he set his coffee cup down on the counter and put both hands inside his jean pockets. ¡°Clarissa, you and I both know that''s not true. Besides the fact that this is not the place for it. The council will be calling soon. Do your bitching there.¡±
Chapter 1 - Part 4
¡°I will, Lawrence.¡± She spit his name when she spoke it.
¡°I¡¯m gonna have to change my name if you keep it up.¡±
The words had barely left his mouth when Clarissa let out an angry snort. ¡°Ever the clown.¡±
I had to admit that despite not liking anything else about her, the woman was capable of expressing herself through tone of voice alone.
The woman turned her gaze in my direction, lowering her eyelids as she looked me up and down. ¡°Little mouse over here is going to go over super well, I¡¯m sure. I am willing to bet that he hasn¡¯t even let them know yet.¡±
¡°Clarissa,¡± he said, interrupting her.
Or trying to at least, as she continued to speak. ¡°You stand there stone silent as if you just don¡¯t care about it all. All it shows is that you don¡¯t know anything. You make coffee and expect the world to orbit around you.¡±
¡°Clarissa!¡± He raised his voice and placed a hand on her shoulder.
¡°I expect some respect inside my own business, which you seem incapable of giving me. First my house, now here?¡± I said, not waiting for either of them to step in again.
I watched as an eyebrow rose up on her face.
¡°Take a breath. I may be quiet but I¡¯m not an idiot, and if you can¡¯t play nice you don¡¯t need to be here. You can leave.¡± The words left my mouth in a rush.
Her description of me had more truth than I would like it to. I am closer to a mouse than a lion, even if I was capable of cleaning house when it was needed. Being stern with customers was necessary. But this made my blood rush through my ears more than the usual confrontation.
With effort, I kept my expression neutral. I watched as her lips opened and then paused for a good minute before she decided to speak again. When she did, she turned to Lawrence, choosing to ignore the entire speech. ¡°I will be talking to them. I expect that they have feelings about the whole thing.¡±
She turned on her heel and walked back out the door. It was more apparent with each action and word that drama ran through her blood. Every step was deliberate- she walked like she had nowhere to be, pounding against the floor with each movement.
Rolling my eyes when she finally made it out the door, I turned to see Lawrence still watching her through the glass.
¡°So¡¡± I said, not sure what question to ask.
There was a lot. A lot that should have come up already, and a lot more I¡¯m sure I hadn¡¯t even thought of yet. I felt like a dumb child, standing there and waiting for someone to explain what was happening.
Somehow an action that sounded empowering was now leaving me mute.The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.
¡°She¡¯s insane,¡± he said, jerking his head back in my direction. He picked his paper cup off the counter and giving the remaining liquid a shake. ¡°You are fine.¡±
¡°I¡¯m fine?¡± I asked. I could hear the pitch in my voice raise an octave, and I crossed my arms against my chest. ¡°What the hell was anything she talked about? Did you know she was in my house one day?¡±
He let out a laugh that made me want to reach out and slap the cup out of his hand. ¡°No, but it sounds like her. She likes to beat the welcome wagon.¡± With one motion he finished the coffee that was in his cup and put it back down on the counter.
His eyes met mine, and he placed palms down on the wood to level his head with mine. ¡°Look, you don¡¯t have to worry about it. You just have to run the shop- live your life. I¡¯ll deal with her. She won¡¯t be back.¡±
¡°Lawrence-¡±
¡°Samantha,¡± he interrupted, ¡°You are fine.¡± He stood up as if it had solved the matter.
I had less information than I had started the day with and more things to worry about.
¡°But,¡± he held a finger up to his lips for a second, and then lowered it again. ¡°I would hire a new manager.¡±
While I processed the words, he turned around. One hand waved, and without another word, he was walking toward the door.
My mouth attempted to form words, but I had no reason to call him back inside. Rolling my eyes one more time, I glanced down at the trash he had left behind.
¡°This is what I want to deal with forever?¡± I muttered as I threw the empty cup in a trashcan under the counter. I didn¡¯t know the answer to that question either.
I do have employees that work with me and under me at the coffee shop. I think that some people have to take this on faith, as I tend to work a lot, and I tend to work the mornings alone. I know how to do everything, and I cover every dropped shift.
That is my job as the owner. It is my responsibility to make sure that everything gets done, even if no one else really wants to do it.
Lawrence was right though. It was in my best interest to bring in someone new.
Someone that didn¡¯t already have a baseline for the way things are supposed to be. The current employees were generally hard workers and nice enough to be around. Culture had always been a big part of my hiring process.
But they would notice the change in routine. The old faces acting stranger and the new faces talking to me the way Clarissa did that day. They would notice changes in myself, and I foresaw that there were plenty of those coming down the line.
I don¡¯t know if anyone else would have been fooled by the pep talk Lawrence gave before he left, but I wasn¡¯t. There were storms brewing, and I would need someone to could cover the shop when they landed.
It would be someone with experience - that could take care of things when I needed a day off. Hard working, and able to mind their own business. Those were my top traits as I read through stacks of applications and began to have interviews.
It took half a dozen before I scheduled the time slot with Morgan. That Friday afternoon she arrived 10 minutes before I expected her. She ordered a cup of hot coffee to stay and sat in the corner.
Her eyes moved across the cafe as she sat, sipping and glancing at her phone twice the entire time. When the hands on the clock moved into place to show 1 PM, she was standing at the counter again. Her cup was empty and her resume was in her hand.
¡°I¡¯m ready.¡±
The interview was standard enough to be unremarkable.
She was a young 23, out of college and focusing on a long term career in the industry. I almost tried to talk her out of it, but I knew it was to both our detriments if I succeeded. So I bit my tongue.
Morgan had the sass and wit to rival any woman I had ever met, and it seemed like the exact kind of attitude I needed. Someone that was able to deal with changing circumstances, and the intelligence to not ask too many questions.
It¡¯s not always great business sense to make decisions on the spot instead of sleeping on it. I also knew that it was only a matter of time before Clarissa, or someone else like her, walked through the front door again. We shook hands before she left that day.
All I knew that night was that the deal I made with Morgan felt a lot better for me than the deal I had made with Lawrence that other fateful day.
Chapter 2 - Part 1
Between the interview and her first day, I will admit that I had reservations about my decision to hire Morgan. There were several conversations with my small pool of current employees- all of which expressed frustration at the outside hire. I had one drunken night with my best friend, during which she sided with those disgruntled voices.
I understood them all. I also had information that they didn¡¯t. Information that those around me didn¡¯t seem keen on sharing openly, and I followed suit.
When weeks flew by without incident, my reservations about Morgan had vanished. Once those around me had gotten a chance to work with her and see her diffuse an irritated customer, or brew a mean cup of coffee- they admitted to feeling the same way. Even if her personality didn¡¯t suit you, it was hard not to admit that she handled the shop well.
Handling the shop, and herself, well was exactly why I had hired her on the spot. She became a fixture, working almost as many hours as I was to learn the ropes and be available. It hadn¡¯t crossed my mind that she wasn¡¯t actually my shadow until she opened without me one morning.
I gave her an hour to get everything running before I finally let myself arrive. It was a difficult transition; believing in someone else to do my job.
Waltzing in, apron already tied across my clothes, I heard a chuckle from the counter. ¡°You almost relax, Sam.¡±
My eyes widened, and I felt my cheeks warm up a few degrees as I made my way to the back. Ready as I was, I had to drop off my stuff and double-check¡well. I planned on double-checking everything.
As my purse made its way off my shoulder, I heard her footsteps behind me. ¡°I relaxed as much as one ever does at 5 in the morning.¡±
¡°Thank you very much,¡± I finished and turned in her direction.
She snorted in my direction. ¡°Someday I will figure out why I¡¯m here when you never want to leave.¡±
The bells on the door mixed with a muffled shout drew our attention back to the front counter and into the cafe proper.
An eyebrow raised, as if of its own free will as I eyed the scene around the room. There were two customers at the counter, one of them that would normally be on his way out at this time of day.
¡°Need one for the road?¡± Morgan asked, stealing the words right out of my mouth.
¡°You know it,¡± Lawrence said. His mouth pulled up one on the side, revealing a playful grin on his otherwise serious face. Both of his ocean blue eyes moved in my direction long enough to make eye contact. ¡°Gotta leave with something.¡±
Morgan slapped one hand against the counter just hard enough to make a tapping noise. ¡°Coming right up!¡± Without another word, she moved to grab a paper cup.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
¡°Hey,¡± I started. The words left my mouth in the same instance I remembered what had brought me out of the backroom, to begin with. ¡°Did you shout something?¡± I asked, keeping my eyes on Lawrence.
He shook his head and shrugged his shoulders just enough for it to be noticeable. A non-committal reply, but his smile faded. Both of the corners of his mouth pulled down slightly as he turned slightly to the man who stood behind him in line. ¡°He¡¯s been waiting though.¡±
My mouth opened and then paused as I shifted my gaze to the men he was talking about. I hadn¡¯t given the other customer much time since we had walked out of the back rooms. Nothing had stood out to me during the interactions so far, but when I turned the hair on my neck stood on end.
The man stood several feet behind Lawrence. He wore tight black jeans and a heavy hoody. Unseasonably heavy by the looks of it. He leaned at a steep angle, weight on one leg, and his arms sat tightly across his chest. Dark colored hair was buzz cut down to an inch or two, and his eyebrows were furrowed before he even spoke.
¡°What can I get you?¡± I asked.
Any other employee would have been told that this was not a proper greeting. It''s not rude, but it''s not welcoming either. Lucky for me I wasn¡¯t any other employee, and I didn¡¯t really feel the need to extend the extra warmth toward his pale scowling face.
¡°Coffee. Black.¡± Only the two words left his mouth before he pressed his lips together.
¡°Sure,¡± I said and nodded my head.
A familiar dance behind the counter of the coffee shop took place for a moment or two. Morgan handed Lawrence his cup after skirting past me, and I poured the sour man his after moving into the free space. Once the coffee was poured and extra precautionary parts were on the cup, I handed it over for Morgan to give.
I pulled myself further into the corner as she rang him for the buck fifty, and watched as he glanced my way and left. Certainly, it had only been 5 minutes since I had walked through the door, but the exchanged felt like it had strung on for much longer than that.
I shook my head as the bells on the door rang again. ¡°I got it.¡±
The rest of the day moved slow and uneventful. No strange brooding men walked in, and no more disappearing shouts. It was far more normal than I thought the day had a right to be, and when I left a bit of D¨¦ja Vu swept over me.
Driving home felt like muscle memory and it was with an uneasy acknowledgment that I got home by autopilot. The car locked, the mail checked, and the door behind me dead bolted- I sat at my little kitchen table. I always figured it was about the size of a table for two at the coffee shop. By the time my purse, a drink, and the mail were set down it was almost full.
Kicking my work shoes off I half-ass sorted the mail. At the bottom of the pile was the only one that made me pause. The envelope was all black, with one only a few lines of red writing on the front. My address.
There was no postage and no evidence that it had gone through the postal service. The envelope felt more rigid than anything I was used to handling. No return address made me both hesitant to open it up and curious to do so. It was a strange thing I held in my hands. Before I could even reason out what was stopping me, my fingers were pulling along the seems to see what was inside.
Inside the sturdy envelope was a piece of silky card-stock, the red color matching the ink from the outer layer. There were no clues as to who it came from or how it had arrived in my mailbox. There was written a date and a location.
At the bottom of the card were the words ¡°Formal attire.¡±
Some kind of invitation had made its way into my mailbox, for a mysterious event exactly 2 months away.
I looked over at my front door to make sure it was locked. The deadbolt was turned, but it didn¡¯t ease the voice in my head. I thought about the hairs on my neck, which seemed to be standing up again.
I wanted the normal day to come back again.
Chapter 2 - Part 2
The envelope and invitation threw me for a loop.
I can¡¯t say how long I sat at my table that night, looking for clues. It seemed as if my recollection of time had gone haywire in that time of my life. I could make a long list of nights that seemed to drag on in unnatural ways.
Not that it mattered how long it took me to stand up. By the end I pulled myself away I was no closer to know what it was then when I had walked inside the door with it.
I set the thing on top of my bedroom dresser and tried not to think about it for the rest of the night. A cup of wine, 30-minute dramas on the TV¡¯s and a full night of rest followed that action¡ and none of them took my mind off it entirely.
I went to work like normal the next day, and back home again. Every time I walked out of my room I glanced at it, knowing that it was one day closer to¡that date.
The mysterious date at some location - probably across town. The date where I had to ¡°dress formal.¡± None of it made sense. A day or two later and I noticed myself rolling my eyes at the doorway to the bedroom every time I passed through. Making it easier and easier to shrug off the expensive looking invitation to a cloak and dagger event.
After a few days, I made the decision to leave it where it sat. I wouldn¡¯t let someone''s joke take root in my life.
I went to work the day after that decision and felt my shoulders relax again. My feet weren¡¯t dragging across the wooden floor. Even the sunlight beaming through the larger window brought a little smile to my face. It also made me squint my eyes, but when life throws you lemons- you have to find the sugar somewhere.
Anyone that has ever worked customer service or a retail job would be able to relate to the fact that days can blur. Even when you are taking orders and filling cups- there is a rhythm and a sense of normalcy that can either be relaxing or mind-numbing.
On a day where my thoughts where finally sliding away from business ownership, new hires, and mysterious letters with no postage, I welcomed the combination of the two. Thoughts numbed into the routine of the shop.
Pour the coffee and clean the counter. Take out the trash, and check on the schedule. Stock the fridge, and listen for the bell.
After the sun had gone down that day, I was in the back taking quick stock. Lulls in customer were the perfect time to get routine tasks down without needing to spend an extra 4 hours in an empty coffee shop. The bell rang, and for a brief second, it didn¡¯t register.
My fingers continued to move down the line of coffee containers, counting upwards one at a time. When I heard heavy footsteps near the counter it finally hit me that the bells had rung. My hand froze in the air as I tried to decide whether to rush to the front or finishing counting the stack.
Shaking my head I let my arm swing down to my side. The coffee beans would hold- inventory would always hold, and should always take lower priority than the customers.
When I walked through the door that enclosed the backroom I froze again. The man standing at the counter was the same one that had come in the day I¡¯d received the envelope. The image of his moody eyes and baggy black clothes flashed through my head, leaving my mouth slightly open for longer than I would have liked.
If I had seemed gruff the first time he came in, I must have seemed downright rude at that moment. My eyes widened and I closed my mouth in an effort to get a grip and actually speak.
¡°Coffee?¡± he said. His voice was softer than I feared it was going to be. It showed patience that seemed to defy his outward appearance.This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.
¡°Yes! My apologies. Black?¡± I pulled the words out as I pushed my feet to the edge of the counter. Behind the register, the scene finally felt more real, which helped me feel in control again.
¡°Black,¡± he repeated and slapped a five dollar bill down between us.
A few moments passed after that which made me feel ludicrous forever feeling unsafe or panicky. He waited silently as I filled his cup and put a lid on it. He took his change and slid it in his pocket.
The young man walked to the middle of the shop and sat at one of the tables, picking the chair that had him facing my direction. He pulled out his cell phone and wrapped himself up in whatever business he was in.
A smile fluttered on my lips as I gave him one last glance. As if he sensed my eyes, he looked back up at me.
I don''t know if I had ever waffled so fast between comfortable to anxious and irritated as I did at that moment, and I don¡¯t know if it ever happened that fast since. His brows were furrowed and his eyes were squinting. He looked me right in the eye and a slimy smile appeared on half his mouth.
He leered for a good minute before he turned his eyes back down at his phone.
In a hurry to move away from his line of sight I went to the back to send a quick text. It wasn¡¯t meaningful, but it made me feel better to vent to a friend for 2 minutes before going back to keep an eye on the odd customer in my place of business.
When I came back out- he was gone.
I guess that I should have felt relief that he wasn¡¯t there. It meant that he wasn''t going to cause any more trouble, and it meant that he couldn¡¯t give me that look again. None of that relief hit, however. I stood there, frozen for the fourth time that night, staring at the table he had been sitting at.
Instead of relief, I felt a wave of panic wash over my body. The little hairs on my neck stood up, and my heart fell into my stomach. If he had let while I was gone, then he had only been there to see me, right?
The thought felt crazy when I isolated it, and I shook my head.
I wasn¡¯t about to go hunting him down, so I did a quick scan of the shop and turned once more. The bells would let me know if anyone else walked in, and I still haven¡¯t finished counting the cans of coffee in the back. Inventory would hold, but it would also help distract me from the weird feelings coursing through me.
Thankful seems like a weak word in some instances. When describing that the clock told me it was time to close up the shop, and the bell hadn¡¯t rung out again, nor had the phone pulled me away from the stock, it is a massive understatement. But it is the best word I can find. I was thankful from my head to my toes that nothing else had happened that night.
I put together my deposit, turned off all the lights, and made my way out the door. My purse was sitting on my shoulder, cell phone and keys sitting inside it. I walked with my head high, even though the breeze was whipping around me.
The fresh air was soothing, and I didn¡¯t want to hide away from it for once. I wanted to feel strong and look confident after the day had made me feel somewhat small and alone. The lamps lit my way through the street. My car was in the parking lot next to the shop, but the bank slip was only a block away.
Five minutes passed and I had the money off my body and in the metal box, and I smiled. One less thing to worry about. I took a deep breath and turned on my heels. As my toes landed back on the sidewalk, my eyes came face to face with a chest, clothed in a black sweater and a scruffy neck.
My eyes looked up, and a lump appeared in my throat before my heart had a chance to beat again. The man from the shop stood there, towering over me with one arm raised. Before I could even look around and pick a direction to run, his hand came down against my cheek.
The motion sent me sprawling backward, landing on the sidewalk behind me with a thud. The impact pushed the air out of my chest in a rush and had me seeing stars. A muffled sound came from his direction, and my purse was ripped from arms. I know that I got loud, but the adrenaline soaring through my body had taken over small things like recognizing what sounds I was actually making.
I remember only small bits and pieces, but I remember trying to stand after he had been gone several moments. His fists and feet flew, and he hadn¡¯t given back a single thing that had been inside my bag. What was left was raw skin, stung by the salt streaming from my eyes. I was a block away from my car and had no way to get in it.
I had no phone, and when I tried to stand one of my ankles screamed. My weight buckled, and I was sitting on the dirty ground again. It was an odd sensation, surreal as reflect. I could glimpse a future where I was home, safe, and secure, yet all I could do was shout for someone to come help.
Here my memory cuts. I don¡¯t think I blacked out- the doctors agreed when I saw them the next day. But the next thing I remember was being in my bed, at home.
A kind stranger I suppose.
Chapter 3 - Part 1
I don¡¯t consider my city to be a dangerous one. I have never rushed to my car or glanced sideways as the street lights came on.
I have never had my purse grabbed, and I have been walking to that bank deposit for a long time. The shock that ran through me when I was attacked was bigger than anything I can describe.
A good friend spent the day with me, after the event. My brain half processed the world and moved in slow motion through the afternoon. I understood that in the grand scheme of things it was a small event; I would recover and life would continue the same as it always had.
But in reality, I made her call the doctors for the follow-ups, and double-check the locks on my doors. I drank coffee because I was prone to vivid dreams as it was, and I can¡¯t recall what I ate.
I got lucky, really. Everything was replaceable and my injuries were minimal. Morgan and the other employees would handle the shop for a few extra days, and I would sit in bed. I would nurse my sprain and swollen cheek, and I would try to stop my brain from having panic attacks about leaving the front door.
It was during this time that I realized how much life had really shifted.
I realized what was different.
Nicole had gone back to her normal life, and I was on my couch staring at my T.V. A blanket covered the lower half of my body, and my thoughts were nowhere with a name. A knock on the door blasted through the room, causing me to jump.
I lost my breath, and the surprise caused my heart to start beating faster.
As I sat on the couch trying to regain myself, a secondary knock came rapping on the door. I looked over, realizing that despite my fears- there was likely someone I knew on the other side trying to get in touch.
A heavy sigh left out my mouth. My heart wasn¡¯t cooperating, but it was my last day of sitting around anyways. I needed to force myself back into life, people, and my business. Moving the blanket aside, I strolled across the living room, and opened my door, and found myself staring at both Clarissa and Lawrence.Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
For a solid minute, my mouth sat open while my handheld the door open.
The two of them stood outside, and before either spoke, Lawrence let out a quiet scoffing sound.
¡°Can we come in?¡± Clarissa said, breaking the frozen silence.
I nodded my head and moved aside. I also made a mental note that even here the angry woman seemed unable to state a question politely.
The three of us moved through the house and away from the door, and I gestured at the table for them to sit.
¡°Samantha,¡± Lawrence said, folding his hands and resting them on the table.
¡°I¡¯ve talked to the higher-ups.¡± Clarissa rushed to speak before he could get to the rest of his sentence. ¡°We know about everything.¡±
¡°Everything?¡± I asked.
¡°The attack,¡± Lawrence said, moving his eyes away from me and around the room.
¡°And,¡± Clarissa spoke again. This time she straightened herself up and pushed into a more formal tone of voice. ¡°The invitation.
My head tilted to the side, eyes going back and forth between them.
¡°Are those related?¡± The question was the only one that would form regarding their statements and overall presence in my home.
¡°Not directly,¡± Clarissa began, ¡°But it is believed that you were staked out due to your connection. The invitation¡well.¡± She stopped as if searching for the proper words.
It seemed a bit out of character for her. Every time she had popped up she had a thousand words to say, and never hesitated in what she wanted to say.
¡°The invitation comes from the council,¡± Lawrence picked up where she left off. He glanced at her and made an annoyed face before turning back to me.
As it always seemed with the two of them I felt like a child, and after the last few months, I had enough of the feeling helpless and clueless route.
¡°I gathered that it was an invitation. With it, you know, inviting me somewhere. Who the hell is the council, and why would they make someone steal my purse?¡± I spoke in a single breath.
Clarissa laughed. ¡°This is what happens when we try to sneak someone into our world.¡±
Lawrence was smiling despite the dig she seemed to throw at him. ¡°The deals I make¡¡± he started, glancing around for a moment before re-centering himself. ¡°They aren¡¯t usually for my own benefit. All of us immortals-¡± he waved a hand around at the three of them ¡°We work for the council.¡±
¡°The invitation,¡± Clarissa took over when he paused to breathe. ¡°It¡¯s not a request. You are expected to show up. Everything will make more sense at the Presenting Gala, but for now, we need to know what comes next.¡±
¡°We also have a decision to make¡¡±
Clarissa let out another laugh, softer this time and looked over at Lawrence.
I watched them exchange glances and felt my blood begin to boil. ¡°Can we not act like I¡¯m invisible? At least share the joke.¡±
¡°You will need a dress. A very nice dress,¡± Lawrence said, pulling his lips inward to make a straight face.
¡°You will need to buy a new dress. We advise you to pick one of us to go with you,¡± Clarissa finished.
She didn¡¯t bother to hide her smile at all.
Chapter 3 - Part 2
After the two of them finally left, I felt simple things. An overwhelming amount of two simple things.
Exhaustion, and frustration.
I admit that those two things felt better than the loneliness and panic that I had been sitting in for several days. After the door closed, I opened a spare bottle of wine, and let myself sink back onto my couch.
I was in the same position I had been in that morning, but the conversation had lit a fire underneath me.
The night was for the dogs, but I was more than ready for the next day to arrive.
That night''s sleep was restless and full of odd dreams, making the morning sun a welcome sight. It allowed me to face my own world again. Contentment suited me that morning as I drove down to the coffee shop, opened, and waited for Morgan to arrive.
¡°Isn¡¯t that what you hired me for?¡± Morgan asked, leaning her arms on the table, causing it to wobble slightly.
Despite the fact that I was trying to have a serious conversation, my face scrunched up as the table wobbled. I tilted my head, even after trying to pull my attention back to the question she had asked.
I had never noticed that table wobble before.
¡°Sam?¡± Morgan asked, waving one tan hand in front of my face.
My eyes crossed as they tried to watch the hand move in front of them.
¡°Yeah,¡± I blurted out and shook my head. The distraction had cleared my head, destroying the thoughts I had been working on all day long. ¡°It is exactly why I hired you, actually. I just wanted to make sure we were on the same page.¡±
Morgan took a loud slurp of her iced coffee, digging around for the last of the liquid at the bottom of the ice. She leaned back in her chair, the cold plastic cup still in her hand. ¡°I guess I just don¡¯t see why its such a thing.¡±
¡°Freeing up days on the schedule is one thing,¡± I said, trying to put my concerns into words. It wasn¡¯t exactly my strong suit- and Morgan didn¡¯t seem all that interested. ¡°Having shit come up and playing hooky is another.¡±
¡°Getting your ass handed to you by some punk on the street,¡± she said while wagging a finger in my direction, ¡°is not ¡®a thing coming up.¡±
¡°It¡¯s not just that.¡±
¡°I know. Look, just¡¡± She paused. Morgan shook her cup before setting back down on the table and returning her focus on my face. ¡°Don¡¯t stress about it. Tell me when to be here.¡±
The bell above the door rang from behind me. It always seemed like it rang when I wasn¡¯t ready for it to. The door always opened when my back was turned and I hadn¡¯t quite prepared to move onto the next thing.
Lucky for me, the eager young manager I had hired stood the moment the door closed behind the customer. She gave me half a smile and grabbed her apron from the back of her chair. Before I even had a chance to move, she had tied the thing around her waist and bounced to her spot behind the counter.Stolen novel; please report.
I was thankful that she was there and ready to do her job. I wished I could screw my head on straight and be ready to do my own.
By the time I stood up and tied my own black apron around my waist, Morgan had already taken the order of a blonde teenager that probably should have been in class. I raised an eyebrow in her direction before grabbing a towel and a spray bottle from underneath the sink. If I wasn¡¯t going to be serving, there was cleaning that needed to be done.
It wasn¡¯t my place to judge anyways.
Table after table, I wiped the afternoon away. The conversation with Morgan ran through my head, and by the time we closed my heart felt heavier than it had when the day began. I realized that I hadn¡¯t said anything I had wanted to, and the situation hadn¡¯t changed.
I had hired her not ask questions, but I also knew that I had hired a person. I hired someone that would need to know where the owner was at, at least in a general sense. There had to be a fair amount of mutual trust and understanding, and I worried that the upcoming week would put stress on the little bit of those we had.
Trying to sit down to continue the conversation wouldn¡¯t do any good. It would make me look neurotic, and wouldn¡¯t help anything else.
I let out a sigh as she walked home, waving at me while she walked away.
The checklist of closing duties went slowly, each one feeling like a brick on my shoulders. On the one hand, the tasks felt nice. They had a purpose and they let me feel in control, they let me feel like I was back in my life.
On the other hand¡they suddenly felt menial.
At the end of it all and I locked the door, it didn¡¯t matter. I chose this life. All of it belongs to me now- for better or worse. I dropped off the deposit on shaky legs and made my way back home.
A day of work completed. The next task was apparently buying a new dress.
The thought rattled around behind my other thoughts, the same way the conversation with Morgan had all day before that. When I finally fell asleep that night- I had dreams of storefronts and high school dances. When my alarm went off the next morning, I was interrupted just before I punched some stranger in the face.
They say that dreams are a visual representation of our brains processing our days and the world around us?
I guess it''s pretty obvious what''s happening then.
A shower, some coffee, and a pair of jeans later and I felt an appropriate amount of distance from the strange images that had run through my head. The dreams of the night before had left a strange bundle of nerves in my stomach about the day that hadn¡¯t been there before.
When Lawrence knocked on the door a few hours later, I actually felt my heart knock on the inside of my chest, and butterflies flew around for a moment. I took a deep breath, getting rid of the childish reactions, and answered the door.
He gave a cocky smile and winked at me- which did nothing for the wild imagination that hadn¡¯t quite let go of the nonsense. ¡°You sure about this?¡±
¡°I have a choice?¡± I asked as I grabbed my purse off the hook. It had been sitting ready, phone and all, for several minutes already.
¡°You could have chosen Clarissa to take you shopping,¡± He said, leaning against the door frame.
¡°Oh! Yes. You are right. I did want to spend *an entire afternoon with her.¡± I pushed his shoulder until he moved, and locked the door behind us. As the key turned I heard him chuckle from behind me.
¡°Probably for the best. As your date, I should get the final say on the total look.¡±
¡°Excuse me?¡± I wheeled around, my eyes wide enough that I am sure it looked comical.
Lawrence shrugged, his torso settling back into place with an extra air of devil-may-care. ¡°It¡¯s how these things work. You are expected to have a date and well¡¡±
As we began to walk toward the driveway I had to prod him to finish his statement. ¡°Well, what?¡±
¡°Well¡¡± he hesitated before finishing his thought. ¡°I¡¯m the one who brought you in.¡±
He continued to walk and without looking he slunk himself in the driver seat of his foreign-looking car.
I hadn¡¯t really anticipated sitting in the passenger seat, even though I hadn¡¯t thought about how he would get to me in the first place. When it came down to it, I hadn¡¯t been thinking about the whole thing at all. If I was, I may not have been caught off guard by every little thing.
I forced my legs to move, in spite of the chaos in my head. They felt like anvils as I made my way to the passenger door and opened it. It felt unnatural sliding into the passenger seat after being so independent for so long.
The entire thing felt¡weird. Everything was weird.
Chapter 3 - Part 3
I wouldn¡¯t say the day got any more normal, but it did settle into its own once we got out of the car and into the boutique. Dress shopping is an odd thing that doesn¡¯t compare to when we go out for regular clothing. It has its own kind of stress, anxiety, and excitement.
It was a strange addition to be shopping with Lawrence, a man that I knew barely deeper than acquaintance level- and at a budget, I had never pretended to have.
The day flew- and before I realized how much time had passed, I was home again and unlocking my front door. As the door closed behind me, I heard the car leaving the driveway, gaining speed as the sound died away.
I set my stuff down at first chance, and moved into my bedroom, hanging the black garment bag in my closet. Inside was the slickest black dress I had ever owned. A moment of truth: I was a little bit excited to put it on again.
The girlish butterflies rushed into my stomach at the thought. They were a strange sensation, and I was glad that no one was around to watch me stand there and stare at my closet.
Forcing myself away from the gown, I went into the kitchen to get around to moving on with my night.
I had a few more days of my life before I had to meet the council.
Whatever the hell that meant.
The path to the Initiation Gala branched off a highway and down several small roads. Eventually, we drove off a double lane private road and parked on the plain black pavement next to a stunning Mansion.
There were several rows of cars parked in front of ours, showing that we were hardly the first guests to arrive.
Lawrence turned the car off and leaned against the driver''s seat. ¡°I gotta admit- its been a very long time since I came to one of these.¡±
¡°Attendance isn¡¯t mandatory?¡± I asked, eyes scanning the line of cars ahead of us. I could see a tree line peeking through the small spaces in-between them.
He let out a long and heavy laugh before responding. ¡°No. Well- Once. You are required to attend your own initiation. It was strongly recommended that I come to this one as well.¡±
¡°How long?¡± I turned toward him, unable to discern the expression on his face.
¡°Uh,¡± he voiced. The sound seemed to catch in his throat for a moment before he went silent again.
I couldn''t tell if he was trying to calculate, or coming with an acceptable truth. Or even somewhere in between. As I opened my lips to prod again he turned his head, a faint smile playing on his lips. His blue eyes catching the lamps behind scattered around the property. ¡°A long time.¡±
The sound of another cars door shutting caused him to turn his head away from me. It jarred me out of my thoughts as well- reminding me that we were sitting inside his car in a parking lot. We weren¡¯t just sitting at the coffee shop having a chat.
We were expected to get out and make an appearance.
¡°Come on then. Careful with those heels. Last time I was here it was loose gravel.¡± Lawrence glanced back, raising an eyebrow at my feet before he opened his door. Without another word, he slid himself out of the car and shut the door behind him.Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
I looked out his tinted windows, my body freezing up for a second. I took a deep breath and listened as another car door shut. I turned my head so that instead of looking where I went, I could see where I was going. My fingers wrapped around the handle to the door, and as I let the air in my lungs, I pulled the latch and swung the door open.
Stepping out, I carefully set my feet on the ground. I shut the door behind me as I shimmied out of the way, testing my balance and the material underneath me. It didn¡¯t feel like gravel, but the heels I wore were tall.
Being careful wasn¡¯t bad advice.
With the door shut, I pulled my shoulders back and moved around the back of the long car. Going the short way would have meant skirting between the lines of cars, and I just didn¡¯t feel like putting myself through the extra effort it would have taken. A few extra steps would mean a more straight forward gait, and the night was likely to be hard enough as it was.
As I stepped past the end of the trunk, Lawrence took the step and a half so that he stood nearly by my side, and lifted his arm dramatically. ¡°Shall we?¡±
Despite myself, I smiled and felt enough air across my face to know that it was a broad smile. I couldn¡¯t do anything about it as I stood there, so I slid my hand around his bicep and stepped in line. With the motion, we walked forward.
Our feet smacked against the blacktop underneath us, and as we neared the building I could hear soft voices and laughter. A single car pulled through the driveway as we moved away from the parking lot, and before I knew it we were standing in front of the stairs up to the door. My heels now tapped on the gray sidewalk, a long slab of perfect cement.
In front of me was half a dozen steps that led up to a set of tall wooden doors. Even from my position, I could tell that they were heavy, and likely very old even though they looked to be in impeccable condition. It was an odd train of thought, I realized. My brain was avoiding the actual event by looking at the craftsmanship of everything around me.
¡°They throw a great party,¡± Lawrence said, startling me. His voice was serious; more serious than I had ever heard him speak before. ¡°But make no mistake, you are here tonight to meet the council. You are here to be presented to them.¡± His eyes stayed on the door as he spoke.
¡°Like cattle?¡± I asked. The words escaped my mouth before I had thought them through, and they were followed by a chuckle that I didn¡¯t try to stop.
Lawrence turned his head to look at me and raised an eyebrow. Without another word, he turned and began to move toward the steps. With my hand still on his arm, and no inclination to be alone in front of the intimidating building I followed suit.
We moved up the steps one at a time, my free hand scrunching the front of my dress so it didn¡¯t catch on my feet. Without missing a single beat, we walked through the propped open door and into the foyer of the mansion.
The difference in lighting hit me straight away, causing me to squint my eyes. My hand dropped the fold of my gown and went up to my brow to shield myself into I adjusted to the brightness. It made it difficult to focus as we moved forward and I was thankful I had a guide to help me move. What I did know even through the blinding light bulbs was that there was a lot of people moving around us.
As we walked away from the door I could see the other gowns of women, and the suits of all the men. I was glad as we entered that I had let my escort help me pick out the dress, or I would have ended up wildly underdressed. I took a deep breath and tried to focus on what was around me.
Every guest was in a pair- everyone had a date that seemed to stay close to their sides. There were multiple doors out of the main room we stood in, and a set of dramatic stairs toward the back. The lights were bright as far as I could spot, and through one door I could spot what looked like some sort of stage.
To say I felt out of place was an understatement.
Even tough beside me Lawrence had gone stone silent, there was a dull roar of noise that heightened to full chaos at moments. Finding a free spot by a wall we stopped, and he turned to me. He opened his mouth as if to say something- some sort of instruction or warning was my guess. Before a noise came out, a set of intercom speakers I hadn¡¯t notice came to life with a second of static and then the silky feminine voice of a woman none of us could see.
¡°15 minutes until presentation and assignments.¡±