Page 11 of Devil's Advocate
I smiled.“You know me too well.”
She slid a mug of coffee across the table before I could even sit.“That’s my job, honey.”
The booth creaked when I settled into it, a comforting sound that came with a thousand breakfasts before mine.I let my shoulders drop, staring out the window as the day woke up.Kids in uniforms, delivery trucks, a dog tugging its owner down the street.The world turned as usual.
The bell over the door jingled, and I didn’t even look until Daisy called, “Morning, sweetheart.”
Then I did.
And there he was.
Jimmy.
Same lean build, same eyes—those impossibly soft brown-green eyes that looked like sunlight filtered through whiskey.He froze when he saw me, hand halfway to removing his ball cap.
Before I could stop myself, I waved.The move was pure reflex, instinct before logic.
His brows went up, surprised, but he didn’t bolt.That was something.
I gestured to the booth.“Jimmy, right?”
He nodded, hesitating like he might run off.“Yeah.”
“Join me for breakfast?We didn’t get a chance to talk last night.”
For a heartbeat he didn’t move.Then something in him softened, and he crossed the diner, sliding into the seat across from me.Daisy appeared like a guardian angel with a coffeepot.
“Can I get you something, darlin’?”
Jimmy looked flustered.“Uh, I’ll have whatever he’s having.”
“Coming right up.”Daisy winked and disappeared into the kitchen.
I studied him in the full light of day.He’d traded the starched shirt from last night for a green button-down that brought out the gold in his eyes.His hair, a little mussed, made him look younger.But there was something else—an unease that ran deep.He sat too straight, like he was bracing for impact.
“You okay?”I asked.
He flushed.“Yeah.I, uh… wanted to say I’m sorry about last night.I had to—um—go.”
I raised an eyebrow, letting the pause stretch.“Had to?”
He fidgeted with his napkin, twisting it between his fingers.“Something came up.”His voice dropped.“I didn’t mean to be rude.”
“You weren’t.”I smiled to take the edge off.“I just figured you were allergic to red candles and free thinking.”
That earned a small, nervous laugh.Cute, really.
An awkward silence followed, thick as honey.I could tell he was hiding something—but not maliciously.The guy couldn’t lie to save his soul.
I decided to rescue him.“So, do you have questions?About the ceremony, I mean.For your research.”
He looked up through his eyelashes, uncertain.His lower lip caught briefly between his teeth before he spoke.“Actually, yeah.Just one.”
I leaned forward.“Shoot.”
“What does… Satan have to do with any of it?”
The words came haltingly, but his tone wasn’t mocking.He genuinely wanted to know.“I mean, I didn’t see anything evil.Or—” His cheeks colored, and he stopped, like he’d almost said too much.
