13. Gabby

He remained at the café.

Sitting at the end of the counter in his suit and tie as he waited for me to finish my shift, he stuck out like a sore thumb among the crowd of blue-collar workers, kids fresh from school, and homeless junkies popping in for a cup of coffee after they found enough change on the sidewalk outside.

But he paid the others no attention, too busy on his phone, rescheduling an appointment with some guy he called Gutierrez.

“…Because something came up and I can’t make it tonight,” he bit out sternly. “Why do people usually reschedule appointments with you?”

After waiting a beat for the answer, he rolled his eyes. “Well, that’s not the case with me. When’s the next time you’re available?” He obviously didn’t like the answer he received because he said, “No, that’s not acceptable. It’ll have to be sooner.” One eyebrow lifted. “Then clear more room and make time.”

I could tell Gutierrez on the other end of the line called him a sour name because he pulled out that co