Chapter 7 Klaus
KLAUS
“Did you get the money?” Frank asked as I slid into the back of the SUV.
“I never fail,” I replied as he pulled onto the street.
After Matteo’s meltdown in his office a few days ago, he’d sent me to collect for him. Typically, this was a job our sons did, but since the real falling-out with Dominic, it now fell to Alessio and me. We were the last line after Matteo sent in his first round of collectors.
Sometimes we had to kill people to make a point to pay what was owed, but that was just how this life was.
I wiped the splashback of blood off my face with a cloth square from my pocket as Frank drove us through the city.
A diner caught my eye, making my heart jackknife in my chest.
“Stop!” I shouted, Merv’s diner passing on our right.
Frank brought the SUV to a halt and looked back at me as cars honked behind us. “What the hell? What is it?”
“Find a parking spot. I’ll be back.” I got out and went to the sidewalk as I stared at Merv’s a few storefronts down.
“Fucking Sylar,” I murmured, looking at my watch to see it was late afternoon. Had he been any other little cretin Matteo kept around, I’d have not bothered with his rhymes, but the little shit was never wrong.
And… I was curious.
Fuck me for that.
After fifteen minutes on that sidewalk while people walked past me, I finally decided to go inside.
I opened the door and found the place bustling with customers. It was a seat yourself situation, so I took a seat in one of the booths and waited for whatever magic Sylar had in store for me.
I stared down at a plastic menu, noting the highlighted blueberry muffins.
“Sylar,” I muttered, shaking my head.
“Hey, what can I get you?”
Confusion flooded me at that sweet, familiar voice. I stared from her pretty legs all the way up her ugly, yellow mustard-colored uniform to her beautiful face.
Big green eyes. Long lashes. Full, pink, pouty lips. Skin so creamy and flawless.
“Hummingbird?” I frowned. “What are you doing here and wearing that god-awful uniform?”
“Um, I’m working,” Rosalie replied, pink tinting that flawless porcelain skin of hers. “This is the uniform. Yellow isn’t really my color.”
“It’s not.” I looked from her face to the ugly uniform. It fit her a little too well, and I didn’t like the way it made my heart thrum. Her tiny waist cinched in that short skirt and those fuck-me eyes…
Her cheeks darkened further, and I realized I may have come off as insulting when it hadn’t been my intention. I did not like the uniform, but only because I knew other men would. Knowing they likely drooled over her made me irrational, I suppose. But truly, the color was awful.
“Why are you working?” I asked, wanting to change the subject from her distracting uniform.
“Because I need a job.” Her answer was to the point. I liked her fire. In fact, I was drawn to it the first time I’d ever spoken to her.
“Isn’t Anson taking care of you?” Anson lived and breathed for her, or at least he had before his recent engagement to Bianca.
“No offense, Klaus, but Anson is my friend. His job isn’t to pay my bills.” She tapped her foot, letting me know she was annoyed with my line of questioning. It amused me, but I didn’t let it show.
I rapped my knuckles on the table, deciding I was going to stick around. “I’ll take a coffee. Black.”
“Got it. One bitter bean water as black as your soul,” she said, not wasting the time to write it down.
I smirked at her words—funny little thing.
“When is your break, Rosalie?” I asked, still smiling up at her.
“I already took it. I’m off in an hour.” Her green eyes skirted the restaurant.
“Perfect. I’ll wait for you. Then you’ll come with me.” I had no idea what I’d do with her once I had her, but something. Anything. I felt like I was losing my mind, and I barely knew her. But I knew that she intrigued me and was beautiful beyond reason.
“I can’t. While your invitation is intriguing and probably dangerous, I have to look at an apartment when I get out. Raincheck?” She looked back at me.
“No, no raincheck. I’ll go with you.” Instant answer without thinking. Something inside me was just so damn sure that I needed to be near her. Add to it Sylar’s words, and it had my stomach in knots.
She let out a sigh and shuffled from foot to foot. I knew she didn’t want to come with me, and I understood her reticence. I wasn’t exactly someone anyone chummed around with.
She nibbled her bottom lip for a moment before leaving me without another word. I shook my head at that. She was quick on her return, though, and slid the coffee in front of me.
“Do you need anything else?” Her voice was soft.
“Yes. I came in for a muffin. I heard there were blueberry ones,” I said, Sylar’s words on repeat in my head.
“Sure. I can get you one.” She left and returned with a mountain for a damn muffin. “Anything else?”
It looked incredible, and if I knew the beauty as well as I thought I did, she had something to do with it. Anson would often comment on her kitchen skills. His words usually made me angry because I wanted to experience a good woman like Rosalie. I’d never had the chance.
I held up my finger to make her wait as I bit into the blueberry mountain she’d brought me. The flavor burst against my tongue. I’d have moaned if I were a lesser man. Instead, I drank some coffee to keep the noise inside my mouth.
“This is good. My compliments to the chef.” I smiled at her, knowing she was definitely behind it.
“I’ll let him know. Anything else?”
“You to sit with me.” I nodded to the vacant seat across from me.
“I can’t. I’m working.” She twisted her fingers in front of her. I noticed she no longer wore the rock De Luca had put on her finger months ago. Thank fuck for small favors.
“What are they paying you?” I asked.
She shuffled nervously again. Always such a nervous little thing. It added to her appeal. “I make a lot in tips.”
“I’ll give you five hundred dollars right now if you sit with me.” My words tumbled out without forethought.
“I can’t. I have to work,” she repeated, fidgeting more. “I just got this job. I don’t want to ruin it by sitting with a customer.”
“OK. I’ll give you fifty thousand to quit and sit with me.” I was good for it too. I wanted her company so damn much that I was willing to cut her a check, here and now.
She left out a scoff. “You’re insane.”
I raised my brows at her.
“Am I? You’re the one not accepting fifty thousand dollars. I’d say you’re crazier than I am.” I leaned in, catching the sweet scent of her perfume. “I’m good for it, by the way—fifty thousand, hummingbird. Sit with me. We’ll talk.”
“Klaus.” She let out a little breathy laugh that sent a surge of desire straight to my cock before she glanced to see the women eyeing us from behind the counter. “We can talk when I’m off, OK?”
“Fine. Bring me a milkshake. Strawberry.” I knew when I was fighting a losing battle.
She left me alone, and I watched as she made my milkshake behind the counter, the two waitresses flanking either side of her and whispering. I knew they were talking about me, and I didn’t look away when Rosalie cast me a quick look, her cheeks pink.
She returned to me a moment later with my milkshake. I didn’t even drink milkshakes, but I needed a reason to stay longer, and reading the damn Chicago Tribune wasn’t going to be my reason.
“Forty-five minutes,” I said, accepting the shake from her.
She said nothing, offered me a shy smile, then returned to work. I stayed, watching her every movement. The way she greeted people, laughed, and worked had me desperate to know her even more.
Everything the girl did was done with kindness. With patience. With a damn smile that I could see behind. She was a fighter. There was even more to admire about her. I recognized heartache when I saw it. I lived it for many years myself, and truth be told, I still couldn’t escape it.
Her father and I went way back. I’d been in a band with him, Alessio, and Matteo in my college years.
Back when things weren’t so awful and dark.
We’d had a lot of good times together back then.
Four friends, inseparable. But then life happened: John had to go after Calista married Everett, and that was it.
Now I was being blessed with his beautiful daughter. She looked an awful lot like her mother.
I was sure John struggled with it. It likely made his heart ache further and made him mourn his old life. I know it would if it were me.
It made me want to reach out and call him, but I knew he’d cut off ties long ago because of the painful memories of losing it all. I’d continue to respect his wishes.
Of course, that didn’t take Rosalie off the table. There was a reason I was here. Sylar said…
Fuck.
I had to just breathe and not overthink it.
I rechecked the time and noted she’d be clocking out any minute.
She passed by wordlessly, leaving my bill and that sweet scent of hers.
I smirked at her retreating back. I pulled out a check and wrote it out to her, complete with the fifty thousand I wanted to give her so she’d take off that goddamn uniform.
I even left a little note for her in the memo area.
Quit your job, hummingbird.
I left the diner and stood on the sidewalk, breathing in the city air. I felt nervous, something I rarely ever felt, but it was her. The girl I’d been thinking about since the day I met her.
And him.
Sylar and his cryptic words. Maybe they were what I needed to make this leap. I didn’t know, and I didn’t want to question it. I only wanted to react.
“Here.” Rosalie came to stand next to me on the sidewalk and handed me the tip I’d left her. “I don’t want that.”
“You earn tips, yeah? That’s mine. Keep it.” I looked away from her, knowing the fifty thousand had been a bold move, but I had more money than any one man knew what to do with.
I began to walk away, wondering if she’d follow.