My phone rang as I walked outside, heading towards the promise of good food, Jake's face lit up my screen.
“Yeah?”
“How are things going there?”
“Peachy.”
“Well, I sent over some documents of the new location for the buy. I need you to go over them and do your thing.”
Jake has come a long way since Alek, and I first met him selling stolen IDs. Now Jake was the majority shareholder in Blackstone Tech, and our financial liaison for our side gig.
“Yeah, give me a bit.”
“Got an ETA of when you’ll be back? Kind of difficult doing this shit remotely.”
“No. There were some complications.”
“Roger-dodger.”
The phone went silent by the time I made it to the front door of the busy diner.
Pocketing my phone, I weaved my way inside, finding a space at the far end of the counter, and took a seat. The woman next to me, a prissy brunette, was sitting with the man that walked out of Ivy’s home yesterday.
The brunette’s eyes went wide as I settled in and opened the menu. People in this small town didn’t know how to handle outsiders like me.
My gaze drifted towards the girl beside me and glared. She leaned away from me and wrapped her arm around the man next to her—the man I imagined gutting and leaving for the boars to enjoy.
There was a common misconception about pigs. One being they were messy eaters, and while that may be true to an extent, they were very thorough. They were opportunistic eaters, so they would eat plants and flesh—bones and all.
They did better work than fires, acid, or even burying someone at sea for the sharks to feed on, and they did it faster. They truly were the best farm animal to raise, by far.
Just as my thoughts drifted off to my happy place, Ivy traipsed over, and took his order. Her gaze drifted to mine as she wrote it down. I made it no secret I was watching her, too, which caused her to smile.
“Can I get a veggie quiche?”
“We don’t serve that here, Rachel,” Ivy said. “Just pick from the items on the menu and stop with the complicated orders just to get back at me. You don’t hurt me, you’re hurting Walter. And frankly, it’s childish.”
Rachel slammed her menu down. “You’re so rude, Ivy.” She raised her voice, inviting everyone into her conversation. She was a snake. “Come on, Otis.” She stepped away from the counter with her hand on the man’s shoulder.
I turned towards the situation, placing my elbow on the counter, and leaned in, rubbing my tattooed knuckle over my lip.
He placed his hand on hers, placating her with a smile. “I’m going to eat my breakfast, Rachel.” He patted her hand before she stalked off, fuming.
The customers turned their gaze to Ivy, but she kept her shoulders held back and her chin high. I knew there was something about this girl.
“Sorry, Ivy. She’s dealing with some things right now.”
Ivy filled his coffee cup from the carafe. “Don’t worry about it. She’ll figure it out soon enough.” She placed a coffee cup in front of me, then filled it. “And what can I get you, Randall.”
“Pancakes, tall stack with bacon and sausage. Two slices of sourdough bread and three eggs, sunny-side up.”
She blinked several times, then bent down close. “You’re going to eat all of that?”
“I haven’t eaten a solid meal in well over forty-eight hours. I’m starving.”
“Let’s fix that then, shall we?” She bit her plump lip, then bounced back into the kitchen with my order when Otis looked my way.
“You’re not from around here, are you?”