CHAPTER 4 — He Found Her

Irene saw him before he reached the counter.

For a second, she thought she was mistaken.

Then he turned slightly, and the tattoo on his right arm came into view beneath his pushed-up sleeve.

The man from the elevator.

Irene stopped wiping the counter.

He looked around the café once before his eyes landed on her. That was enough to tell her he had not walked in by accident.

She set the cloth down and he came to the register.

Up close, he looked exactly as unpleasant as she remembered. Dark hair, sharp eyes, expensive clothes, and the same irritated expression he had worn during that brief elevator ride.

Irene glanced toward the line behind him.

“What can I get you?”

His attention stayed on her for another second before he looked at the menu.

“Black coffee.”

“What size?”

“Medium.”

She rang it up and he paid in cash.

Irene took the bill and gave him his change. And she wanted to leave it there. Instead, while she was pouring the coffee, she looked at him again.

“How did you know I worked here?”

He looked at her. “Your bag.”

“What about it?”

“You had an apron sticking out.”

Irene remembered that. The logo had been visible. She had noticed him looking at it before she left the building.

“So you came here because you saw where I worked.”

He shifted his weight. “I was nearby.”

She didn’t believe that.

Apparently he could tell because he added, “It’s a public place”

“Well, you’re not wrong about that.”

Irene put the lid on his cup and pushed it toward him.

He took it before there was another pause.

“You didn’t have to come here,” she said.

His expression tightened slightly.

“You’re right,” was all he gave her.

Irene looked past him at the waiting customers. “Your coffee’s ready.”

He moved away from the counter.

She thought that would be the end of it. It wasn’t because he chose a small table near the wall. And stayed.

Irene went back to work.

For the next twenty minutes, she tried not to notice him.

That became difficult because every time she looked toward his table, he was either staring into his coffee or looking in her direction. Not openly enough for her to call him out. Enough to make her aware of it.

Blythe noticed him too.

She waited until Irene came back from delivering two drinks.

“Do you know that guy?”

Irene kept her voice low. “Not really.”

“He keeps looking over here.” Blythe glanced toward him. “Customer?”

“He was in an elevator with me two nights ago.”

Blythe looked back at Irene. “Wait, how come you didn’t tell me? And that sounds like there’s more to it.”

“There isn’t.”

“What happened?”

“The elevator got stuck.”

“And?”

“And then it started again.”

Blythe waited.

Irene picked up a milk pitcher. “And he was rude.”

“And? That’s it?” Blythe looked toward his table once more. “He came here after that? Did you give him the address?”

“No. Why would I? People get kidnap every day. I’m not an idiot, Blythe.”

That finally made Blythe stop smiling. “But how did he find you?”

“He saw the shop logo on my apron.”

Blythe considered that. “Oh, okay.”

“Exactly.”

Irene turned back to the espresso machine. 

She appreciated that Blythe didn’t try to make it romantic. There was nothing romantic about a stranger noticing where she worked and then showing up without being invited.

Even if he was attractive. That was not relevant.

The man stayed another ten minutes before standing. His coffee was barely half finished. Irene noticed that too.

He headed for the door.

She told herself to let him leave.

Then she called out anyway. “Wait.”

He stopped and turned.

A few customers were still sitting nearby, so Irene lowered her voice when she told him, “Are you going to keep coming here?”

His face changed slightly. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

He seemed annoyed by the question. Or maybe by his own answer.

Irene crossed her arms. “You acted like you couldn’t stand being in the elevator with me. And now you’re suddenly here?”

He looked toward the door, then back at her. “I needed to check something.”

“What?”

He paused then said, “Nothing.”

Irene stared at him. “You came here to check nothing?”

His jaw tightened. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“That I agree with.”

He looked irritated again.

Good.

At least that part was on his brand.

Irene waited, expecting him to leave. Instead, he looked at her as though he wanted to ask something.

But then he just, “Have a good day.”

The politeness sounded forced.

“You too.”

He left.

Irene watched the door close behind him.

Blythe came up beside her.

“That was uncomfortable to watch. I mean, he doesn’t seem very friendly.”

“He isn’t. Trust me.”

“Are you sure you don’t know him?”

“I don’t even know his name.”

Blythe looked toward the window. “Well, he definitely knows where you work now.”

Irene picked up the cloth again. “Oh, well, story of my life.”

By the time her shift ended, she had mostly pushed the whole thing out of her mind.

Then Amanda called. Irene was sitting in the back room with half a sandwich when her phone rang.

She answered on the second ring. “Hi, Mom.”

“Irene, they changed the amount again.”

She closed her eyes. “What amount?”

“The rehab payment.”

“How much?”

“Two hundred forty more.”

Irene stopped chewing. “Every damn month?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. They explained it, but I didn’t really understand.”

“Can you send me whatever they gave you?”

Irene put the sandwich down. “I can call them.”

There was a pause before Amanda added, “I don’t want them thinking I can’t afford to stay, Irene.”

“Of course, we don’t want that, Mom, do we?”

“You know I need this place.”

Irene sighed. She was tired. “I know.”

“I’m trying, Irene.”

The guilt arrived exactly where it always did.

“I know, Mom.”

“I just don’t know what I’m supposed to do if they keep raising things.”

Irene stared at the floor. She obviously could not afford another two hundred forty dollars every month. Not with rent, Belle’s school expenses, groceries, utilities, and everything else.

“I’ll call them,” she said.

Amanda exhaled. “Okay.”

“I’ll figure out what changed.”

They spoke for another minute before ending the call.

Irene stayed in the back room afterward.

Then she opened her bag. The cream-colored envelope was still inside. She pulled it out and read the compensation section again.

Three months of rent.

Belle’s tuition.

Amanda’s rehab.

The offer was still suspicious. The people behind it still knew too much. But now she was becoming desperate.

Irene checked the time. Then she called and a woman answered after two rings.

“Good afternoon.”

“Look, I don’t know how to say this but… I got a letter?”

“Your name?”

Irene hesitated. “Irene Potter.”

There was a short pause.

“Yes, Ms. Potter. We were expecting your call.”

Irene frowned. “Listen, what exactly is the job?”

“That will be explained during the next stage.”

“I’m not interested in another stage if nobody tells me what I’m agreeing to.”

“You are not agreeing to employment yet. Only preliminary screening.”

“That doesn’t really answer me.”

“I understand.” 

The woman sounded practiced. Irene already disliked that.

“You will speak with Ms. Celeste if you choose to continue.”

“Who is Celeste?”

“The broker handling the position.”

“I didn’t apply for anything.”

“No. You were identified as a possible candidate.”

Irene looked down at the letter.

That still bothered her.

“When would she call?”

“Forty-eight hours from now.”

“Exactly?”

“Yes.”

Irene sighed. “Fine.”

“Before I schedule it, I need to confirm something.”

“What?”

“Are you married, engaged, or currently in a relationship?”

Irene’s mind went briefly to the man from the elevator. She immediately pushed that aside.

That was nothing. She didn’t even know his name.

“No.”

“Thank you. Ms. Celeste will call in forty-eight hours.”

The line disconnected. Irene lowered the phone.

She still had no idea why a temporary job cared whether she was single.