Page 8 of Cognac Secrets

“Thank you,” I murmured and was rewarded with a quick smile from the much-older, iron-haired woman as she moved off.

I admit, I flinched when I dragged my eyes back to Bennie and found him stone faced and scrutinizing me. His dark eyes quick, and thoughtful – still his inner workings were obscured behind high, impregnable walls that I couldn’t even begin to climb or find a door. A wall of cognac and secrets, but then again, I fully admit to having my own so it was alright. Still, I had my curiosity piqued.

“What’reyouthinking?” I asked with a halting laugh, stilling as I swirled the stir stick in my coffee after adding a touch of sugar to sweeten it.

He was slowly raking me with that intense gaze and I felt small in that moment, intimidated, but… not unsafe.

“You’re kind,” he said simply and took a sip of his own café au lait without sweetening it any.

“Thanks,” I said softly. “I try to be.” I hadn’t expected that. Honestly, I hadn’t known what to expect at all, but that had definitely not been it.

“Kindness can be a weakness,” he said and I looked up.

Cocking my head slightly and raising my own paper cup to my lips, I said, “Or maybe I just know what it feels like to have people be unkind and I don’t want to be that for anyone else.”

He looked at me like I’d said and done something very interesting then, and the corners of his mouth turned down and he gave a nod, sliding one of the trays of beignets toward me across the slightly sticky table.

“Well,” he said with a sigh as I smiled and picked up my first one and he picked up his. “I’d hate to see anyone be unkind to you after the kindness you’ve shown me.”

I tilted my head, raising my chin a little a I asked, “Why’s that?”

“Because they’re going to be in for a real shitty day,” he said and he tapped his little puff pastry against mine, the powdered sugar falling like snow before pulling his hand back and popping it into his mouth.

I laughed and said, “Cheers then.” I ate my own.

He was an interesting man. We talked more, about all manner of small things and I found it to be… delightful. He was almost scarily easy to talk to for being so guarded and I found the dichotomy fascinating. Still, I couldn’t help but ask eventually…

“So, who was she?”

He went very, very still, and very, very silent, his eyes dropping to the cup of coffee between his hands as though he would find the way to answer my question in the milky surface, like some sort of scrying mirror.

He cleared his throat and said, “Can we talk about anything but that? I was actually enjoying myself for a minute there.”

I smiled and it felt brittle, mostly becauseIfelt as brittle as he looked in that moment. My empathetic nature getting the best of me, and his pain coming off him in waves.

“Sure,” I murmured. “I’m sorry I brought it up.”

He sighed and that intense gaze of his flicked up to mine and he shook his head slightly.

“No, you deserve an answer to that after the way I acted. Drunk isn’t any kind of excuse for that kind of thing. I’m the one who should be sorry.”

I shook my head and said, “No. Nothing to be sorry about. I was glad to be useful.”

He searched my face, nodding slightly, and said, “Useful… that’s an interesting way to put it.”

I let out a breath and pushed back from the table a little bit, forcing a laugh.

“I wasn’t always…”

“Useful?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

My eyes slid from his and I took in the bustling café. I finally nodded faintly but remained mute under his scrutiny. I was suddenly uncomfortable, feeling like I’d said too much. He didn’t say anything, just sat in silent contemplation of me.

We finished our coffee and beignets a little quietly and, honestly, that was fine by me. I tended to trauma dump when I got too nervous and it just kind of compounded my anxiety. I always felt like I needed to explain myself when I did something awkward, and that just sort of begotmoreawkward. Which got my mouth running like speed racer and just made everything even more awkward and then it just spiraled down, down, down, and down into making everyone uncomfortable to the point that either I never saw or heard from them again or I was so embarrassed I made myself disappear out of their lives to spare them any more of my bullshit.

I was trying very hard to do and be better, but it was hard. There was something about Bennie that made me honestly want to try even harder than that, because despite him being basically a total enigma – I think I liked him. I certainly would like to get to know him, given half a chance.

CHAPTERTHREE

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