Page 19 of Secrets

That microsecond of surprise makes another appearance. “Now?”

Gesturing behind me, I make a show of the empty store. “No time like the present.”

She tugs her lips back and forth over her teeth, indecision playing over her features. But just as I think she might say no, she taps a finger on the counter. “I have a few minutes. Let me grab my things.”

I watch her white dress sway against her thighs as she disappears behind beads that clink together from the disturbance, and I’m pretty sure I stop breathing until she returns. When her pretty face emerges again, there’s a small satchel tucked beneath her arm and a cream sweater covering once exposed shoulders.

She nods toward the door. “Shall we?”

With my nerves vibrating with an absurd amount of excitement, I grin and spin on my heels to lead the way to the door, watching as she flips a small sign on the door that reads ‘returning shortly’. “We shall.”

In my short, yet somehow extensive time on Earth, I’ve had my fair share of lovers and even more potential partners. I’ve always been a fall-hard-and-fast type of girl because my family ingrained a loving nature into me early which caused my heart to sew itself to my sleeve. Oftentimes—or maybe every time—I end up with it becoming a broken mess, only repaired by a hard drink of gin and dancing with Jenna at The Four until I find someone else who catches my interest. Or until I pass out on my bed crying to sad songs. Or taking out my frustration in a rage room. Or eating croissants until I’m bloated enough to resemble the gluten intolerant version of Violet, from Willie Wonka.

No matter how I end up moving on, it’s all a toxic ass cycle that I always repeat despite my better judgement and education about the human psyche. But also, what else is a girl to do?

Besides the occasional aerobic classes and my comfort shows, I’m always finding myself bored, which is either dangerous or expensive. So I either find a new partner to fill the time, or shove myself into work in an attempt to fill the void. But even my job sometimes loses its luster.

Which brings me back to Elena. She’s something new and exciting and will likely turn into my latest distraction.

It’s not healthy, I’m well aware, but self realization is the first step, right?

My eyes find the gorgeous woman at my side as we make our way down the sidewalk. Her profile is striking, strong, and elegant. I wonder how someone who has such a stature found herself so connected with nature. So content with dirt coated fingernails and heaving heavy bags of soil—in a lace dress and six-inch heels, no less—but can’t stand germs. Quite the contradiction I think. But also, with her, it’s probably not.

I concoct my first question as Elena turns toward a shop only two down from her own. She grips the handle and smirks as she pulls it open. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I believe the saying is something about taking a picture as it lasts longer.”

I pause, a goofy smile taking over my face. “Not as proper as that, but yeah. Also, I think you’d be a little freaked if I busted out my phone and started snapping pictures.”

Elena considers this for a brief second before nodding once. “Perhaps.”

Together, we enter the mom and pop coffee shop and are immediately greeted by an older woman behind the long counter. The aroma of toasted vanilla and earthy coffee beans saturate the air, while the low lighting paired with the worn, yet overstuffed leather couches compliment the dark interior and number of vining plants. I immediately recognize them as the same kind trailing the ceiling of Elena’s store.

“Good morning, Mrs. Ward.” Elena greets the woman behind the counter with a genuine smile, and I find myself jealous that this woman gets a sincere version of her.

Mrs. Ward glances from Elena to me, then back to her again. I can see the metaphorical wheels spinning beneath her silver hair, the thoughts and questions formulating before disappearing with another.

Elena must see the woman’s confusion as well, because she gestures to me. “This is a newly acquired associate of mine, Federal Agent Jessica Frances.”

I lift a hand, my gaze drifting to the glass display of muffins and glossy breakfast pastries before snapping back to her. “Jessica is fine.”

The woman’s responding smile is warm as she glides over to the stand and opens the back as if already anticipating I have no intention of turning down a pastry. “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Jessica. What can I get you?”

My eyes skim over the dozens of treats before I make a decision. With a quick glance at the menu and then at Elena, I gesture for her to order first.

Her emerald irises seem to shimmer as she turns to Mrs. Ward. “The usual for me, please.”

The woman tips her head once before looking at me expectantly. “Uh, I’ll take a caramel apple-spiced coffee with a plain croissant.”

“Coming right up.” She rings us up and I rush to pay before Elena has a chance to dip into her small satchel. I smirk as she rolls her eyes and thanks Mrs. Ward.

“I’ll have it right out.” With that, she turns and I’m left with Elena, who now looks amused. At least, I think she’s amused. This woman is quite the damn conundrum.

“Would you like to sit while we wait?” Her eyes flash to the seating nearby and I nod, following her over.

She bypasses the fluffy couches in favor of a small bistro table with two metal chairs. I’m unsure if I should read into that as though she has no intention of staying or not, but my heart squeezes either way.

We sit, and I become intensely aware of how the surrounding air is simultaneously so thick it’s as if I’m close to choking while so thin that no breath is enough. The sensation is both foreign and uncomfortable, and for the first time, I feel as if I’m out of my element.

It’s unsettling, though not in a way I want to escape but one I want to explore, to understand.

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