Page 11 of Agent Zero
Brenda, her spray-lacquered hair in place and her drawn-on eyebrows giving her a perpetually surprised expression, shook her chunky blue plastic earrings as she put together a fresh pot of coffee.“If he asks me one more time I’m going to dump him in the fryer.”
“I’ll help,” Holly muttered.“Hey, what’s with the guy at the counter?”
Brenda peered around the coffee cubby’s edge.“Him?Polite, no trouble.”It was the highest praise a waitress could give.“Why?”
No reason.But she had one, thankfully.“He’s a regular.Tips well.”
“Good.I could use it.”Brenda sighed.“God, I need a smoke.”
A long time ago Holly might have told her to quit anyway, it was a bad habit.With things as they were, though, she didn’t waste the breath.“Go on, I’ll handle it.Just don’t let Tony talk you into anything.”
When she came back, Reese was looking down the long polished stripe of the counter.“Busy night.”
“Fridays.”She set the chunky ceramic mug down and poured.At least it was fresh.Eduardo had cleared the mystery man’s plate and moved on to Brenda’s half of the diner.“You did it again last time.”
Did he look startled?His eyes really were very dark, barely any difference between iris and pupil.“Did what?”
“The tip.”She felt her eyebrows go all the way up, a comical expression.Tony had headed to the office—he was probably going to call his bookie and complain about missing the game.
Reese shrugged.That was it.No explanation, nothing.Was he embarrassed?
“I can get you your change right now, if you want,” she persisted.“Because, you know, I thought it was a mistake.”
“Again?”He leaned forward on the counter, bracing his elbows.“No.No mistake.”
How could a place go from being so full one minute to practically empty the next?Eduardo had another tubful and was heading back to deposit his cargo with Jackie the dishwasher, who was no doubt listening to ranchero hip-hop while he scrubbed and kept up a steady stream of half-whispered invective.Brenda was in the alley smoking, and the office door closed behind Tony with a thud.Every table was bare.
“Okay.Well, thank you.”She took a step back.
“You’re welcome.”He kept watching her.“Can I ask you something?”
“I guess.”She braced herself.Aha.Here it comes.She was already rehearsing how to let him down easy.I’m married, she could say.She’d said it before.Or even,I’m a lesbian.Now there was a new one.Would it work?
His shoulders relaxed slightly.Maybe he was just nervous.“Do you ever wonder where people go when they leave here?You know, try to guess who they are, what they do?”
It wasn’t what she’d expected, so it took her a couple seconds to shift mental gears.“Doesn’t everyone who works this kind of job?I mean, it’s natural to wonder about people.”She rested the coffeepot on the counter.Juan, back in the kitchen, yelled something at Bart, who replied in the same tone.Something about scrubbing down the grill.“Like you, for example.”
“You wonder about me?”He even looked a little pleased, that faint ghost of a smile intensifying.
Well, now she’d gone and done it.“We wonder about all our regulars.”
“I’m a regular?”Surprised, and maybe a little horrified.
His expression was pretty priceless, so she actually laughed, cupping her free hand over her mouth as if to catch the sound.“Sort of.Barb—she’s here in the mornings—well, we call you the mystery man.”
His smile in return was...really nice.The image of him in a charcoal-gray suit, the tie loosened just a little, wouldn’t go away.“Oh.I’m really kind of boring.”
Well, that’s a relief.Me too, and I want it kept that way.“Oh?”Everyone wanted to talk about themselves.As long as you let them, you could get away with not saying much about your own life.
Mostly.
“Yeah.I work...security.”
Huh.And you have such nice big shoulders.I’ll bet you loom really well.She examined him, critically.“You don’t look like a rent-a-cop.”
“Not that kind.I’m sort of a consultant.”He lifted the coffee cup, blew across the top.No bandages, just some livid scratches.
“Your hands are a lot better.”
