However lame that may seem.
Rolling my eyes at my own internal thoughts, I take in my surroundings now that it’s daylight. The tall trees felt like a better option than a dumpster behind the coffee shop. The ground is mostly dirt, but where the sun is shining through the gaps in the trees, some plants are beginning to bloom. Maybe I should pick some for my brother as a way of apologizing for blowing up his birthday with news that he has a sister and his mum is dead, then running away.
Why did I run away?
I sigh, or huff…a mixture of both. I’m annoyed at myself.
Grabbing my suitcase and backpack, I trundle through the sparse trees until I find a path leading me out of the park.
I should have just stayed and faced whatever he had to say. Would’ve been a lot fucking warmer last night if I had. Maybe we’d be having breakfast right now. Actually, no. It’s like seven in the morning. No sane person should see seven in the morning after getting absolutely smashed for their birthday the night before.
I wonder if he likes bacon sandwiches. Ooh, I hope some of that spotted dick is left over. I didn’t see anyone eating it at the party-club thing.
Eventually, the real world of buildings and roads and cars comes into view, and I realize I have no fucking idea where I am or how far I walked last night. I take my phone out of my jacket pocket and pull up the map, thankful that I had the foresight to charge it before I did a bunk—which seems to be my M.O. at the moment.
Run the fuck away from your troubles, Parker…
Like that’ll make everything better.
It’s too fucking early to try and have another family reunion, so my first task of the day is to find a job that isn’t against the law. The majority of my skills lie in deceit, murder, and general mayhem, thanks to my dad’s involvement with The Butcher’s gang in London. We did some good shit too, and most of the murdered people deserved it, but preserving that kind of lifestyle can be tiresome on your own when everyone you know and love is dead.
My first thought is to try a coffee shop, but my coffee making skills are dire. Now, a cup of tea? I can smash the shit out of that, but an American coffee…I’m not so sure. They have machines though, don’t they? I could press buttons. Yeah, fuck it. Let’s go with the first thought. Now where is…ah ha!
Five minutes from where I’m standing is a coffee shop that looks cute as hell in the pictures. It’s small and cozy looking, with a lot of artificial flowers lining the ceiling and walls. Bet they take a lot of dusting…pretty, though.
It feels like this place was made for me because when I arrive and see the entrance, I’m obsessed. It’s all painted in a deep purple, almost black color, the sign writing in metallic gold. “Full of Beans”. The dark green of the artificial flower stems gives the pretty flowers a darker edge that I am totally here for and the woman behind the counter…well. Why aren’t we best friends already?
“Hey, what can I get you?” Her silver hair with orange tips looks like it’s on fire as she politely tilts her head.
“A job? Please? Oh, and a caramel latte.” I give her my best cheesy grin, which isn’t saying much because I’m sure my grin is more of a grimace.
“I can’t help but notice that you’re not from around here. Can you make a decent coffee?” She crosses one arm over her chest and rests the other on top, holding her chin between her thumb and forefinger.
“No.” May as well be honest. She’s bound to find out anyway…if I get a job, of course. “But I’m a quick learner and loyal as fuck…sorry.” I shrug, a little embarrassed that I probably just blew my chances because I can’t keep my gob shut and be polite without cursing. Iamloyal, though.
Both of her eyebrows rise, her eyes widening right before her lips begin to curve upward and she chuckles.
“I like honesty. And I like that you don’t have a stick up your ass.” She eyes my suitcase beside me and her face softens a little. “I’m not really hiring, but I can put in a good word with the beauty salon next door, if that helps? They’re actually looking for a part-time receptionist.”
“Ohmygod, yes!”
“They will need to check that you’re actually legal to work here, of course, because you’re British, yeah?” She sets about making the latte I asked for, looking over her shoulder at me as she speaks.
“Yeah, I have proof of citizenship on me at all times.” I start digging through my backpack for the little file I stored all my important stuff inside. The plan was always to get a job here, so I’m prepared with everything I need and I feel like I need to prove to her that I’m telling the truth. “Found it!” I hold it in the air like a prize, so pleased with myself for not losing it.
“Well, you’re the only one who found something, because we spent hours trying to find you last night.”
“Hi, Spence, I’ll be with you in a moment.” The woman puts a cup in front of me and winks. “This one’s on me. My name’s Nero, by the way.”
Uncomfortable as fuck that she’s being so kind to me, I awkwardly smile as I put away my small file. “You really don’t have to. I can pay.” And I want to pay her, but I also really want to turn around to see Spencer and ask what he meant, exactly, about trying to find me, and why.
“I know a woman in need. Just pay the kindness forward when you can. And here.” She hands me a card. “This is Maribel’s address. She takes in strays, just like you.” There’s nothing vicious in her tone, and I love her brutal honesty to say what she sees. Again…wondering why we’re not already besties.
“Thank you, Nero.” What a fucking cool name, too.
Body heat behind me reminds me of the extra person here and I turn to face him with a grin.
“Spencer.” I nod in greeting, trying really hard not to breathe all over him because I haven’t brushed my teeth yet.