Page 65 of When Fences Fall
She tsks. “P-please. Everyone has one.”
At eight p.m. my eyes start twitching. And they nearly fall out of their sockets when a woman enters and approaches the available space at the counter. I’ve seen her around town, but she usually doesn’t come here, preferring Dick’s new place. I heard she moved here a couple of years ago and works in city hall and that she’s not the locals’ favorite.
I’ve never encountered her because we move in different circles, but it’s odd that we’ve never actually talked. Roman is usually the person who goes to city hall if we need anything since he has a buddy who works there, and when I see her in the grocery store, she’s usually talking on the phone, ignoring people around her.
She has a reputation of being a rather unpleasant person who hangs out with Dick sometimes, but what’s nagging me about her is her sleek, dark bob and the way she carries herself. I’ve seen that before. At Jericho’s doorstep and then through the window when I was peeping at her walking around his place like she owned it. I have no idea why I didn’t recognize her. Of course, it was dark out, and I saw her only from her back the whole time, but it’s hard to misplace that short, sleek bob.
So Dick’s friend is Jericho’sgirlfriend.
She wipes the stool before lowering her ass in silky pants onto it and places her black leather purse on the counter, then her attention focuses solely on me.
“Hi. What can I get you?” I start in the friendliest tone I can muster.
She doesn’t say anything but keeps watching me with narrowing eyes. At some point, they turn into tiny slits, making her suddenly look older.
“Nora, right?” Her voice is sweet like poisoned honey.
Shit, does she know I kissed Jericho? Are they a couple? Am I in trouble?
Those are the first thoughts that run through my mind. But only for a second. Then I recall who I’m talking about and instantly change my narrative. Jericho, a man who cleared the snow from my doorsteps so my grandmother wouldn’t slip. The very same man who told me to follow him so he could clear the road before me. The man who protected me from Dick.
No, this is not the man who would be doing the cheating or putting me or his girlfriend (if he had one) into this kind of situation. Fueled by this new resolve, I square my shoulders.
“Yes, Nora. Welcome to Moons’. Can I get you a cup of coffee?”
Her nose scrunches as she looks around. “Do you know how to make a latte?”
I do. “I don’t,” I reply with a sad face. “Sorry.”
“Figures.” Her nose remains wrinkled and perched as if she sniffed something foul while her eyes keep flickering to the carnelian stone on a golden chain on my chest.
We have all sorts of coffee and a very fancy espresso machine because we get a lot of tourists, but it’s a small-town diner where the local regulars prefer drip coffee with an ungodly amount of caffeine. I could make her a cup, but her attitude of a big-city-person-stuck-in-this-small-town stinks, so I’ll just play into the stereotype.
Not to mention, I still remember her face smooshed onto Jericho’s, so the only mixed coffee she’d get from me would be mixed with dirt.
“Get me whatever you have then.” She points her finger to the sink at my right. “But wash the cup.”
“All our cups are clean.”
“Yeah,” she replies with a quick roll of her eyes. “Wash it anyway.”
I pointedly take the cup and rinse it with water before placing it in front of her. The desire to splash coffee into her face is strong, but then I remember my promise to Cheryl to not embarrass her anymore because she’d be the one to book me, so I disregard the idea.
Even though her cup is full, she doesn’t touch it. It sits right where I placed it while her gaze doesn’t move from my face. She knows something, I’m just unsure what exactly.
“Nora,” Karina comes to me, “I might need your assistance with table five. Can you take over? And I’ll help your guest.”
The woman’s head whips toward the voice, and before she says something nasty to set Karina off on her warpath, I give her a gentle shake of my head.
“I’ll help you in a few if you don’t mind.”
Karina’s gaze jumps between me and the woman. “Are you sure?” We both know she felt the tension in the air and came to my rescue.
“Yes. Thank you.”
She gives the woman a long stare before returning to the floor to already yelling customers while my ‘guest’ follows her with a narrowed stare.
“How are you liking your coffee?” I ask, totally aware that she hasn’t touched the cup.
