CHAPTER TWO Emily
CHAPTER TWO
Emily
“I didn’t know adults still threw tantrums.” A deep male voice says behind me.
No. It’s not possible that someone heard me. The clinking metals and the machinery from the construction site next to the café should’ve drowned out my mini-meltdown. I mean, I thought it through, and I picked the alley for a reason. A private space where no one could see or hear me. I guess I miscalculated. Great.
Time to face the consequences of your actions, Emily.
I whip around, and my gaze lands on a man stepping out from behind a massive tree that separates the construction site from this small back alley. I feel my stomach dropping as he comes closer.
Oh no. Did he see everything? Does he think I’ve completely lost it? Is he going to pull out his phone and show me the video he took of me? ‘Crazy Barista Lady Screams at the Sky!’ trending by lunchtime. I’ll become a meme. My face burned into the internet forever. The mortifying possibilities spiral in my head, and my hands start to feel clammy.
Should I just run? Deny everything? It’s not like there are cameras back here. I glance up at the walls, scanning for any telltale lenses. Nope. Nothing. I could totally make a break for it.
But before I can decide, the man steps closer, and my escape plan disintegrates under the weight of sheer intimidation. He’s tall. Like, really tall. As he walks toward me, I squint my eyes and notice that his right arm is covered in tattoos. His short black hair is tousled, strands sticking to his forehead from sweat. His muscles are defined, and not even a utilitarian reflector vest can hide that he’s ripped to shreds. He has a rugged charm about him, thanks to the outfit and stubble on his jaw. I can admit that he’s decent-looking. No, scratch that. Let’s be real here, he’s attractive as hell.
“Sorry, I—I didn’t know…” I mutter, unsure of how I can justify my outburst.
“That there are people working at a construction site?” he finishes for me, his voice laced with amusement as he strolls over. He oozes a sort of effortless arrogance that makes me instantly rethink my initial assessment. Okay, maybe not that attractive. He stops just in front of me, and even though I’m on slightly higher ground, he towers over me.
“No, just… I didn’t know there were lurkers in this alley,” I say, trying to regain composure.
“Lurker? Ouch.” He clutches his chest as if I’ve offended him. “I’d like to think of myself as an innocent, observant, bystander.”
“Is that what you call it?” I raise my brows. “I was thinking somewhere along the lines of a local eavesdropper.”
He smirks, clearly enjoying himself. “Well, if I just happen to stumble across the entertainment, how can I resist?” He crosses his arms and leans against the wall with a cocky smile. The kind of smile that pulls you in.
Yikes. Attractive and cocky. A lethal combination.
I roll my eyes and spin on my heel, determined to retreat to the café and salvage what little peace I can for lunch. The alley feels like it’s shrinking around me, and I have to get out of here.
As I step out onto the sidewalk, lost in my thoughts, a blur of motion cuts across my peripheral vision. A bicycle barrels down the narrow street, the rider shouting a hurried, “Watch out!”
Before I can process what’s happening, a hand grabs my arm and yanks me back. I stumble into my eavesdropper’s chest just as the bike zooms past, narrowly avoiding disaster. My heart pounds like it’s trying to leap out of my chest, and I look up to see the guy smirking. He’s still holding my arm, and I’m still about five inches away from his face. We’re frozen in this weird position we’re in.
“Be careful,” he says, breathing hard. His voice is so deep I can feel the vibration of it through his chest.
For a moment, I can’t speak, still reeling from the close call. We’re so close I can see the flecks of gold in his otherwise dark eyes, and the way his lips quirk up in satisfaction like he knows exactly the effect he has.
I glare at him, but before I can come up with a biting retort, my stomach growls, loud and insistent.
His grin widens, and he gestures toward the café. “Hungry? That might explain the whole… scene. Why you threw that temper tantrum.”
I scoff, pulling away from him and straightening my apron. “Thanks for the unsolicited psychoanalysis, Dr. Freud, but I’m perfectly fine.” I walk past him to return to the café.
He follows me as I head back; his strides are long and easy, while my march is stiff and determined. “You know, most people would say ‘thank you’ to the guy who just saved them from becoming roadkill.”
I stop abruptly and turn to face him, swallowing my pride because he’s right. I let out a deep breath. “Fine. Thank you, mystery hero. Can I go eat my lunch now?”
He holds up his hands in mock surrender, but there’s a playful glint in his eyes that makes it clear he’s enjoying this. “Of course.” What an infuriatingly charming man.
Once I’m near the café again, I check my watch to see that there’s only fifteen minutes left on my break. I need to eat fast. I take a seat on one of the benches near the back entrance and take out my sandwich.
That’s when I notice I’m being followed. My savior—more like nuisance at this point—is watching me while I eat my lunch. I scan the area, making sure there are enough people around. Not that I have a lot of faith in bystanders, but this is New York City . I look at the guy again, and he doesn’t look dangerous. But isn’t that what they always say on the news?
Needing to break the awkward silence, I ask, “Do you always listen in on conversations?”
“First of all, that wasn’t a conversation,” he says, and sits down beside me on the bench. He’s so close to me that our arms almost touch. I should probably move. “And no, I only listen when it’s as riveting as yours,” he adds. “What’s got you all worked up anyway?”
“Yeah right. Like I’m going to divulge my problems to a stranger,” I say, taking a bite of my ham and cheese sandwich.
“You did just scream them out to the entire back alley.” He points to the space where I had my tantrum minutes ago.
I narrow my eyes at him. “How much did you hear?”
“I heard you cursing out a big butt, a guy named… Bob? And the universe,” he says, and I can’t help but chuckle. In fact, I laugh a bit too hard and almost choke on my sandwich. I cough relentlessly while he hands me my water bottle.
“Easy there.” He chuckles. “Don’t die before you tell me all about it, please. I already saved you once today.”
I glare at him playfully. “How about you tell me what you make of it?” I say, playing along as I take a sip of water, sneaking a glance at him from the corner of my eye.
“Very well,” he says, rubbing his chin in a mock representation of thinking. “Did you, by any chance, witness Bob’s big butt and you cursed the universe because you’ll never see it again?”
I laugh and shake my head. “I wish it were that fun.” I sigh. “But no.” I hand him back the water bottle as I continue, “Let’s just say Bob’s existence is proof that some people are put in your life solely to test your patience or push you to the brink of insanity,” I don’t bother to correct him that his name is Rob, and he’s not just a terrible human being, he’s insufferable. “And Hugh Jass,” I spell out, “was a fake name I had to shout at the counter earlier.” I roll my eyes as I remember. “And lastly, the universe, well, it hates me. So maybe I hate it back.”
“Sounds like you’ve had quite the day,” he says, a sympathetic smile playing on his lips.
“Yeah, you could say that,” I reply with another sigh. “Everyone has off days, even eavesdropping construction workers, I assume?” I deflect because I’m not comfortable talking about my problems. Not to him, not to my family, not even to a therapist.
“More often than I’d like to admit,” he says, shrugging. “But I’ve never been pranked into calling out for a Hugh Jass, so you’ve got me beat there.”
I laugh, already feeling a tad bit lighter. “Well, don’t lose hope just yet.”
He grins, flashing a smile so perfect it’s almost ridiculous. “Though, I have to admit, you’ve definitely made my day a lot more interesting,” he adds with an effortless wink, his confidence radiating in a way that feels second nature.
Just then, a group of girls strolls by, their conversation tapering off as they very openly gawk at him. There’s no subtlety, just wide-eyed stares and muffled giggles as they whisper among themselves. I can’t even blame them. If I were walking with my friends and we saw a stranger this attractive, we’d probably be doing the exact same thing. So, yeah, I get you, girls.
He doesn’t budge, though. Doesn’t even look. It’s like he’s used to the attention.
I take the last bite of my sandwich, hoping it hides the fact that I’m as flustered as the ladies.
“Glad I could help,” I say with a wry smile. “And thanks for the water… and for pulling me back in that alley.” I stand and smooth out my apron. He stands, too, and I’m suddenly reminded of just how tall he is; I barely reach his chin.
“Just promise to be careful, Tantrum.” He smiles. “I won’t always be around to save your day.”
“Whatever,” I reply with a chuckle. “I have to go back.” I start backing up to the entrance. “More big butts to attend to.”
“Okay,” he quips. “Next time you need me, you know where to find me.” He gestures to the construction site a few feet away.
“And when you want to throw in a cappuccino order for a Phil McGroin or something, you’ll have it on the house!” I offer, gesturing the café behind me.
“Will that earn me a coveted spot in your tantrum session?” he asks, biting back a smile.
My heart skips a beat at the look in his eyes. “Definitely.” I grin. “Seriously, though, thanks again. You’re not such a bad lurker after all,” I say over my shoulder, opening the back door to the café.
“High praise,” he bows with a flourish that makes me giggle. “I’ll take it.” He smiles, the most perfect smile I’ve ever seen on a human being. I can’t help but wonder why he’s working his ass off here and not just posing for a Calvin Klein billboard, leaning over a yacht or walking on a beach.
With that, I wave and turn back to the café. Okay, Universe, maybe I forgive you a bit for now.