Not A Wink (The Vicellia Family #1)

Chapter 1

Chapter one

Seth

Ifeel like death, probably look like it, too. But that’s insomnia for you.

Sleep is a great thing, except when your brain decides to be a dick and run amok during wind-down hours. It teases you with the possibility of sleep, then forces you to consider how many dots take up a one-by-one square of wallpaper.

One thousand one hundred and sixty-two dots. I’m sure tonight I’ll figure out how to calculate how many dots are on my bedroom walls instead of sleeping.

“Dude, you look like shit. You alright?” I jerk at the voice and peer up at my coworker as he stands in the doorway of our little staff lounge area.

Okay, “lounge” area might be a bit of a stretch. It has a tiny love seat on one side, a kitchenette from the 90s on the other with an apartment fridge humming in the corner, and a Formica table with two mismatching chairs in the middle. It’s claustrophobic, to say the least.

But the loveseat is surprisingly comfortable.

I give a half-hearted grunt as Oliver plops down beside me, long legs stretching out in front of him.

“Come on, man. What’s wrong?”

I let out a sigh, rubbing my hands over my face. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m just exhausted. Haven’t been sleeping much.” I lay my head against the back of the loveseat, gazing blearily at the water-stained ceiling.

“You sure? I know we aren’t good friends, but if you need to talk, just let me know.”

I look over at him in surprise. Yeah, he’s my co-worker, but besides the fact that he’s addicted to caffeine, I don’t know anything about him. Not even his last name.

And here he is, offering me a shoulder to cry on. Or complain to, in my case.

“Thanks, man. And yeah, I’m good. Just have to convince my brain to shut down.”

He gives me an assessing look, his brown eyes narrowing momentarily before his lips pull up in a smile. “You’re getting tea with me.”

I blink and then blink again. “I’m sorry. I’m doing what?”

He laughs, a bright sound that bounces off the walls of the cramped room. “You’re getting tea with me. And you’re not going to turn it down. Now get up. We got less than two hours and then we’re clocking out!”

With that declaration, Oliver jumps to his feet and disappears through the doorway. Groaning, I haul myself up and follow behind, making sure my name tag is visible as I stumble into the main storefront.

Black lights and lava lamps cast a psychedelic glow in the back of the store, the lighting getting brighter the closer to the entrance I get.

Goth style clothing and t-shirts with colorful anime characters take up one wall, while the middle aisles are a combination of a sex store, a bachelorette party, and a goth jewelry boutique.

Hexed only a few tables are occupied with patrons sipping on drinks as they tap away on their laptops or scroll on their phones.

“Mattie!! How are you?” Oliver asks, fist bumping the guy on the other side of the counter. He’s cute, with curly blonde hair hanging over blue eyes and a dimple in one cheek. Neon bracelets crowd his wrists and what looks to be a dragon’s tail peeks out from beneath his left sleeve.

“Can’t complain. Well, I can, because my math class is kicking my ass. Want your usual?” He laughs, grabbing a cup from the machine behind him.

“Yeah. This is my co-worker, Seth. He needs something to help him relax and get some sleep.” I give Mattie a small wave, trying not to fidget awkwardly or sway like some half-plastered drunk next to Oliver.

“Got any allergies?”

“Just macadamia.” He grimaces, nose wrinkling just a bit, and a sudden stab of anxiety has the sludge of exhaustion disappearing. Some people are weird when it comes to allergies, and some are downright rude, and I’m really hoping this guy isn’t one of those people.

“Yeah, no worries on that. I’m allergic, too, and we don’t allow it in here. Plus, one of the other workers has some sort of feud with a local wood nymph who is descended from a Macadamia tree deity.” Mattie shrugs, an amused expression on his face.

I wasn’t expecting that last portion, and while I would love to hear more about the feud, my sudden relief must be obvious to Oliver because he gives me a concerned look. I wave him away, feeling like an idiot over my almost-anxiety attack.

“So, something for sleep.” Mattie slides Oliver’s coffee to him as he eyes the extensive collection of glass jars meticulously displayed on open shelves. “I’m assuming you are just wanting a regular herbal tea and not an elixir or potion?”

I give him an affirmative nod as he grabs two jars off the middle shelf. Filling a tea strainer with the herbs, he tops it with steaming water and places it gently in front of me with a squeeze bottle of honey.

I stare down at my cup as the herbs slowly stain the water a greenish-amber. “What is it?”

“That is just some lavender and chamomile. Helps with relaxation and sleep. Added benefit of helping calm anxiety and stress. There’s a bunch of other stuff it can do, but all your gorgeous self needs to worry about is how it can help with shut-eye.”

I shoot him a wide-eyed look at his compliment, but he’s already turned away, cleaning up a bit of water that spilled when he was making my tea.

“Thanks,” I finally manage to say, and he shoots me a smile over his shoulder. I’m not used to strangers calling me gorgeous, and I’m both embarrassed and preening just a bit at it.

“Oh, let it steep for about five minutes before you drink it.” He looks behind me, and his smile turns a bit brighter. “Leon! What are you doing here?”

Blinking, I step away from the counter as the next customer chuckles behind me. It’s a nice chuckle, and I look over at the man as he steps up to the counter and fist bumps Mattie, a cane gripped in one hand.

“That’s Mattie’s tutor for some sort of math that’s way over my head,” Oliver explains. “Come on, let’s go find a table before they drag us into some conversation about angles and light beams or some shit,” he says with a laugh.

Shaking my head, I follow him to a tiny table in one corner, trying my hardest not to spill my tea.

Not that it’s over-filled or anything, but the cup is hot and I can sometimes be a bit of a klutz.

Once seated, I squeeze a huge dollop of honey into my drink, blowing on it until I can finally brave the heat enough for a sip.

I’m not a big tea drinker, but this is good. It doesn’t taste like I’m drinking boiled grass, but it is earthy with a subtle floral taste to it.

“So, how long have you had sleep issues?” Oliver finally asks.

I take another sip before I answer. “For a while now. I’ve always had issues, but they’ve gotten worse since…”

I snap my mouth shut, my gaze dropping to stare at the amber liquid in my cup. I really don’t know him well enough to complain to him about family issues. Especially my family issues. How would he even react if he finds out my family has ties to the freaking mafia?

Well, supposed ties to the mafia. My uncle has never been the trustworthy type, so all his talk about why and how he ended up in federal prison is shady at best.

But he’s always hung around really scary kinds of people, so he could also be telling the truth. And when I say scary, I mean the kind that can literally give you nightmares or turn you inside out with a word.

He tried to keep his family life separate from whatever he was doing, but there were times those people would show up. I would hide during those times because they always gave me a bad feeling. Like I was some slab of beef and they were an inspector from the USDA, or something.