Chapter 3
“You look like shit. Maybe you should have one of these yourself.” Mandy, my co-worker at Beans and Things, gestures with her chin to the latte she’s making.
“Thanks.” I frown, catching a glimpse of myself in the espresso machine. “But I’m fine.”
“Define fine,” she deadpans. “Because I think we have different definitions.”
“Ha. Ha. Ha.” I nudge her with my shoulder.
Mandy’s the closest thing to a friend I’ve made since landing here in Boston a month ago. I’m not usually so anti-social. Not a single Friday or Saturday night has gone unplanned since I hit my teens.
But that’s what got me into all this mess to begin with.
Instead of staying in and studying like my brothers wanted me to do, I was out meeting people and living it up.
I’ll never repeat this, but I should have gone ahead done what they wanted for me and kept my nose in a book. No matter how much I hated it.
“Tommy!” Mandy calls out the order and slides the latte toward a tall blonde man dressed in typical business district fashion.
His hair is styled neatly away from his freshly shaven face.
A pair of wire rimmed glasses sits on his perfectly straight nose.
He could model for any number of fashion magazines.
Yet, he does nothing for me.
I should get around to getting my head checked one of these days.
Maybe while I’m away from home I can finally figure out why a certain man won’t leave the back of my mind, no matter how hard I try or who I date.
Maybe they can get inside my head and do some magic to make men like this guy make me feel something other than boredom.
She leans a hip against the counter next to where I’m pouring more coffee beans into the machine.
“Stone and I are going to a new club tonight; you should come with us.”
I raise my eyebrows. “What new club?”
She lifts a shoulder and gives an impish grin. “The kind that pops up for one night only.”
“Hmm. Let me think.” I tap my chin. “No thanks.”
Last night’s adventure with a pop-up rave was more than enough for me for at least a week.
She grabs my arm. “Come on, Elana. You can’t spend every night alone. Come with us. You’ll have fun.”
“And another sleepless night,” I point out, crumbling the espresso bean bag between my hands. “I’m exhausted. You said yourself I look like shit.”
“So? You get off at three today, right? Go home, take a nap, wash your hair, put on some make up, and come with us!” She bounces with enthusiasm at the prospect.
“Elana, can you get the next customer? I have to pee so bad!” Katherine taps my shoulder as she jogs past me.
“Sure.” I leave Mandy to make the next coffee and take over the register.
“Yeah. I’ll have a large coffee—black—and an extra-large vanilla latte with an extra shot of espresso, and can you use sugar free syrup?” The order flies at me before I have a chance to greet the customer.
“Yep. We can do that. That will be thirteen dollars and seven cents.” I look up from the register.
“Here.” A credit card is shoved at me. I take it, press it to the reader that’s on his side of the register and wait for the beep signaling the purchase went through before handing it back to him.
He tilts his head with his lips pressed in a thin line.
“You could have just told me to do that.” He snatches the card back from me.
“Can I get a name for the order?” I ask in my best customer service voice. My brothers would never believe how sweet I can be to the worst-mannered people.
“Tony,” he says over his shoulder while he heads to the end of the counter to wait for his drinks.
My chest clenches at the name, and I take a beat to let it settle. I remind myself that there will be a time when that name doesn’t give me such a visceral reaction. It would be nice if that time came around a little faster.
I grab the paper cups for the order and scribble the name across both before handing them off to Mandy.
“You good?” Her brow wrinkles.
“Yeah. Perfect.” I push on a brighter smile then take care of the next customer.
As my shift drags on, my feet throb and the soft ache that was creeping up in the back of my head has blown up into a full headache. I need sleep. Good, rock-hard sleep.
“So, about tonight,” Mandy says, wiping the counter down next to where I’m restocking cups.
“Thanks for the invite, but I’m getting a headache. I’m going to go home and crash.”
She narrows her eyes on me. “You do look a little gray.”
“Stop. You’re going to give me a huge ego if you keep up with all these compliments.” I crumple the plastic wrapping in my hands.
She laughs. “I’m sorry. You’re gorgeous, you know that, but you do look like you need to sleep for a week. Were you up all night? With a guy maybe?” She nudges me.
I blurt out a laugh before I can stop myself.
Because of a guy, but not with one. But I can’t tell her that. As good of friends we’ve become over the past month, there’s a lot about myself that I keep to myself. Having dated a man who was using me to try to kill my entire family is one of those things.
“No.”
“You stayed up all night stitching.” She pulls a face, which makes me laugh.
“I knew I shouldn’t have told you about that.”
“Why? I’m not judging. I mean what beautiful, single, twenty-three-year-old wouldn’t rather stay home doing needlepoint when she could be out dancing and meeting hot men?”
“But you’re not judging.” I roll my eyes playfully. “I told you, it’s just a stress reliever.” My mom used to do needle point when I was little. She said it helped her relax.
Too busy counting my stitches to think about all the bad stuff in the world. She’d said. I’d made fun, saying it was an old woman’s hobby. But like everything when it came to my mom’s advice, she was right, and I was wrong.
“I’m not judging. I’m just trying to get you out for some fun,” Mandy assures me.
A text message notification diverts my attention from her. A message from Megan. My sister in-law has been patient—well, as patient as she’s capable of being—and giving me the space I told her I needed, but I think she’s reached her limit.
Call Kaz. Let him know you’re all right.
The mention of Kaz makes my neck muscles tense.
Is he okay? What’s going on? I shoot back.
Three dots dance, then stop, then dance again. In the end, a photo comes through.
It’s my brother, the youngest of the three, standing at an altar in a church. The photo was taken at his wedding.
“Ooh, now he’s hot. Who’s that?” Mandy leans over my phone.
“Ew. It’s my brother.” I nudge her.
“That’s your brother?” She blurts out the question a little too loud, and the customer in the corner of the cafe looks up from her laptop.
I’m aware of the effect all of my brothers have on women. As their little sister, I’m required to be repulsed by anyone thinking of them as hot, but I’m not blind. They’re good-looking.
As good looking an older, overprotective, annoyingly in my business all the time brother can look, anyway.
“Sorry, it’s just…shit, Elana, he’s really hot.” Mandy sighs. “Not that Stone isn’t, it’s just—”
“It’s okay, Mandy. I know what you mean.” I squeeze her arm. She’s dated Stone since high school. Not even a tornado sweeping between them could split them up.
“Is that his wedding picture?” She taps my phone.
“Yeah. He got married a few weeks ago.” While he was up in New York taking the punishment for what I did, I stayed tucked away here in Boston. Hiding like the coward I am.
“She’s pretty, but she doesn’t look happy to be there.”
I laugh. Why would she? She’d been dragged to the altar like him.
“It’s a complicated situation,” I say because saying more would be word vomit.
Kaz married the sister of my ex-boyfriend, who dated me hoping to get closer to my family for information to use against them, or kill them, I’m not entirely sure which he wanted more.
But I can’t even be that angry at him for that, because I was dating him in order to prove to myself that I absolutely did not have feelings for someone else, in order to bring peace between the Italian mob and my brother’s Russian Bratva ring.
Yeah, all of that seems a little more than she’s ready for.
A customer comes up to the register and Mandy steps forward to take the order.
Is he okay?
Megan answers back immediately.
He’s fine. Call him. Let him know you’re okay. Everyone’s worried, Elana. We love you.
My chest tightens and an ache threatens to bring tears, but I inhale a long breath through my nose until I can get the emotion under control.
I’ll call. Luv you all, too.
I tuck my phone back into my apron pocket and busy myself getting the drink order Mandy took ready. While I’m steaming milk the little hair on the back of my neck dances, and I look up.
The cafe is still empty, aside from the woman waiting for her latte and the one in the corner working on her laptop.
I snap the lid onto the drink and slide it toward the customer.
“Thanks,” she mutters, grabbing it and heading for the door.
For a minute, I watch her through the glass. She climbs into a car and drives off. Then I see him.
Artem.
Or I think I do. One blink later, he’s gone.
“You okay?” Mandy touches my shoulder making me jump.
“Yeah.” I press my hand to my chest. “Just thought I saw someone.”
“Who?” She leans to look out the window.
“No one, just a cute guy. But he got on the bus.” I force a smile. “I really need that nap.”