Chapter 2 #3
“Noctis! Umbra! Platz!” Quick as a whip, both dogs suddenly drop to a down position, gazing up obediently at the man exiting the coffee shop.
And to my humiliation, I also gaze up at him from my spot on the ground as if I’m a trained canine like the two black dogs.
One of them, the smaller one, wags its tail, its entire butt wiggling as the man comes closer. He smiles down at the dog, giving me a few moments to survey the man whose dogs I stumbled into.
He’s definitely not a regular.
My first thought is plain and obvious; and embarrassingly, the main reason I’m so sure is that I would’ve noticed this guy coming in and out of Coffee Crest. His black hair that’s somehow darker than mine is pulled up into the smallest of knots.
Framed by the coffee shop’s glow, his warm, golden-brown skin seems richer against the black of his coat. He—
A hand is suddenly in my face, and behind it, the man is giving me an apologetic, soft smile. “May I help you up?” he asks, as if it’s a foregone conclusion that I want to be on my feet.
“Sorry.” When I take his hand, his fingers are warm against mine, and despite his lithe frame, he easily pulls me to my feet like I weigh nothing at all.
I bet it’s his Range Rover out back.
There’s no way this well-dressed, put-together man drives something common like my Hyundai. The dogs themselves look like they’d reject getting in anything as low-class as my car.
“Sorry?” He tilts his head, looking bemused. “Why are you sorry? My dogs knocked you over.”
“No, no, I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.” Thankfully stopping myself before saying I was busy staring at what is probably his car.
That would make this somehow even more humiliating, and I’ve already had a hard night.
In the window of Coffee Crest, I see Mary pressing her face to the glass like she’s watching her favorite Telenovela, though I pretend I can’t see her.
“Nell?” The door opens again and Hestia walks out, still in her apron, with her hair pulled back from her sharp cheekbones and dark green eyes.
“Are you okay?” She glances between us, then down at the dogs.
“Are you two menacing my renter?” she coos and reaches toward them with familiarity.
“Are you going to leave Auntie Hestia in debt?”
“Auntie Hestia would only be in debt because of her poor financial choices,” the man deadpans, then turns back to me. “I’m sorry again. Even though you say it wasn’t their fault. The dogs are very kind, unless given a reason not to be, but that’s no excuse.”
“Oh. Well, umm.” I glance down at them. “I will accept your apology if you tell me their names?”
The man looks at me curiously before his smile widens, somehow growing warmer and more genuine than the polite mask he wore for his apology.
“Noctis. He’s four.” He points at the slightly larger Shepherd whose fur seems to curl along his back like the start of a mohawk when paired with the straighter fur on his sides.
“And Umbra. She’s three.” He pets the smaller Shepherd, whose tail wags happily.
When I reach a hand out to her, after glancing at the man to make sure it’s okay, it’s Noctis who bodies himself between me and her to sniff my palm and then lean against my legs.
“God, I need a dog,” I sigh.
“Sure,” Hestia agrees. “You can have a dog as soon as Amir agrees to part with one of these two. Any other dog? Absolutely not.”
The man—Amir—snorts and rolls his eyes fondly.
He unties the leashes from the hook, already heading toward the corner.
“Not on your life, Hestia.” His gaze switches to me, and he seems to study me for just a moment.
“It was nice meeting you…?” He leaves the statement open ended, clearly wanting my name.
“Nell,” I say. “I’m…just Nell.” God, I’m lame.
“It was nice meeting you, Nell.” He doesn’t remark on my awkwardness, just gives a soft command to the two dogs and rounds the corner. Probably heading to the Range Rover, I’ve decided, and I refuse to be wrong. Even if I don’t crane my head around to see.
“Well, I haven’t seen him in a while,” Hestia says finally, once we hear a vehicle driving away.
“You know him?”
The dark-haired woman nods twice. “Yeah. Just…haven’t seen him in a bit.” There’s something on her face I can’t quite read, but before I get the chance to ask, she brightens. “Anyway. Want to do a display case clean-out? There’s a quiche left and it’s all yours. I’m closing a few minutes early.”
“You? Close early?” My head is starting to ache, but a quiche sounds great after not getting the diner food I had apparently been really looking forward to. “Who are you and where’s my landlord?”
But she only laughs and glances back toward the parking lot, an undeniably pensive look in her eyes before she pulls the door open and ushers me inside.
Meds and bed can wait, I suppose. I don’t want to be rude to her when I do care what Hestia thinks of me.
Even if that means helping her clean up with Mary literally over my shoulder, telling me all the things I’m doing wrong and running through every embarrassing millisecond of my interaction with Amir.