Page 98 of Driftwood Daffodil 2

“Do you mind? This is a private conversation.” Not to mention Memphis didn’t need to know anything about last night.

“A private conversation that you’re having in a public place.” Gio pointed out without so much as giving me a quick glance.

I was getting tired of his new ability to point out technicalities. “That doesn’t give you the right to eavesdrop.”

Rude much.

Gio clicked typed something into his laptop. “Well, maybe you should talk a little quieter then.”

“I was speaking at a normal volume.” What did he want me to do? Whisper everything?

“I heard you.” The guy in booth number two piped in.

To which Gio lifted his finger over his shoulder to give him a point. “See.”

“I’m going to spit in your next cup of coffee.” I said to Gio then swung my glare over to the tattooed guy in chewing on a piece of toast. “And you’re lucky you already have your food.”

His shoulder lifted in a small shrug. “Spit wouldn’t be the worst thing I ate.”

What was it, smart ass day? What was that guy doing in here anyway? He wasn’t exactly our typical customer. When he spoke there was no Louisiana drawl.

So he wasn’t from around here, which might explain why he picked this place to eat – no local would think pulled pork and gumbo was a good combination.

Being a tourist wasn’t out of the ordinary. It was his appearance that made him stand out. It wasn’t anything I single out. The guy was clean, yet rough, and not as big as Gio, but something told me he could easily take him in a fight. And there were the tattoos on his face. He just didn’t belong. Not here.

Whatever, I wasn’t going to put much thought in it. I had other things to worry about. Like the way my best friend was staring at me, which I decided to ignore and occupy myself by wiping the counter down.

I may as well do some work while I was here. I could make a new pot of coffee, but Gio was going to ask for a refill soon and that one had been sitting there for about an hour. It should be nice and stale.

I put Memphis out of my mind and focused on polishing the laminate counter top.

“Oh, so that’s your plan. You’re going to pretend I’m not here?”

Yeah, pretty much.

“I have work to do.”

“Work?” Memphis cocked a brow.

Admittedly, that probably wasn’t the best excuse to use, given how well he knew me, but it was all I had.

“Yes, work.” I said. “I have a paycheque to earn.”

The arch in his brow lifted. “Earn?”

Okay, again, that was probably not the best word to use.

“I know what you’re doing.”

No, he didn’t.

“When has ignoring me ever worked?”

Okay, maybe he did.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you. You’ll never guess whose yard I caught Billy and Kyle sneaking around in.”

Little pissants.

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