Marked for Vengeance (9 page)

“You guys
realize this is Georgia, right?” Alyx said with her arms crossed over her chest
to keep warm. She should have borrowed one of Benjamin’s jackets, even though
it would have swallowed her whole. “It should be expected.”

“Too true,”
Frederick replied.

When the banter
died down, a bout of awkward silence followed. Alyx hoped that Cindra wouldn’t
clam up just because they were eating with ‘Casanova’ today.
If I have to,
I’ll pep talk her in the bathroom,
she resolved.

Three blocks away
from the bistro, they approached a homeless woman pandering on the sidewalk,
asking passer-by’s for money to get a meal. Her short, scraggily hair peeked
from under a knitted cap with holes, and her wild eyes drooped with exhaustion.
Frederick wedged himself between the wily looking woman and the girls to shield
them from her attempts to hassle them.

“Could any of
you spare any change?” the beggar asked, her raspy voice choking as she spoke.

“Keep walking,”
Frederick insisted, turning his back to her.

Remembering how
big the old bum’s eyes were the other night when she offered over her food,
Alyx couldn’t bear the thought of the old woman going hungry. She slowed to a
stop and rummaged through her purse to find the five dollar bill she had left
over from the cab fare.

The woman
hobbled toward her. “Bless you, child.”

When she thanked
her, Frederick and Cindra stopped and turned. Frederick threw his hands in the
air. “She’s just going to buy booze with it,” he griped.

“You’re welcome,”
Alyx said to the lady as she lifted the bill from her hand. When she caught up
with her lunch mates, they glared at her with crossed arms. Cindra’s teeth
chattered violently from the cold. “Sorry, guys.”

“You would save
the world if you could, wouldn’t you?” Frederick scoffed.

Cindra bumped
into her with her shoulder. “I’ve always said she’s as pretty on the inside as
she is on the outside.”

Three, chilly
minutes later, they approached the block that housed the reputable bistro, and a
troubling realization hit Alyx like a ton of bricks.
Oh my God, I
hope it’s not HIS bistro.
“What’s this place called again?” she asked casually.
She had been there three years ago out of necessity to see where he worked, but
she hadn’t been back. Plenty of other restaurants littered the same block, so
she hoped he wouldn’t say –

“The Market,” he
replied.

Her high heels
skidded to a stop. Cindra peered curiously over her shoulder, and Alyx walked
forward again while throwing a smile on her face. If her friend caught wind
that something was up, a barrage of questioning would ensue.
Maybe he’s not
working today
, she thought with a fragile hope.

She focused in
on her draw to get a feel for where he resided, and the pull was strong,
practically tugging from the center of her chest in the direction of the bistro.
She let it go and stumbled backward.
He’s definitely there.
She shook
her head woefully and forced her feet to trudge over the concrete. It would
only figure that just as she had resolved to let him go, she would eat at his
restaurant today.

Frederick and
Cindra walked in first, and as Alyx held the glass door open, she considered letting
it shut behind them and running down the sidewalk to escape the impending
torture. If it weren’t for her boss being there, she would have
seriously
considered it.

As they stood in
the narrow waiting area, she discreetly skimmed over the faces in the restaurant
while swiping on some chapstick.
Maybe he’s on break.

“Right this way,”
a sweet voice said, and the hostess led them to a square, wooden table close to
the bathrooms.

While she informed
them about the soups of the day, Alyx recognized his familiar silhouette from
the corner of her eye, and an electric current rolled up her spine, goose bumps
covering her skin. As her ‘painter man’ passed their table to the other side of
the restaurant, she attempted to remain calm and stoic. Drawing attention to
herself was out of the question.

After they had placed
their orders, Alyx excused herself to the bathroom to further compose herself.

“I’ll come too,”
Cindra said as she scampered behind her.

Alyx rolled her
eyes. She needed a moment alone, and with Cindra that was impossible. She
busted through the door of the two-stall bathroom and went to the stall in the
back.

“I have to say,
girl, I have
no
idea what to say to him,” Cindra said as she preened her
hair in the mirror. “My crush on him is starting to bite me in the ass.

Alyx barely
listened to her rambling, but gave a courteous “mmm hmm” to pretend as though
she were. She leaned against the marble stall with her eyes closed to still her
frayed nerves.

“Maybe I should
think of something to talk about other than the weather, but I don’t know how
I’ll manage that when he’s sitting only a foot away from me.

“Mmm hmm.”

“Anyhow, I’m heading
back to the table,” she said and opened the door to the bathroom. “You
alright?”

A quiet sigh
rushed through her nose to force the words. “I’m fine, see you in a sec.”

 “You
sure?
”

 “Yes, and hey,
ask him about his marathon training. He’ll talk your ear off.” 
Maybe that
will throw her off my scent.

“
Thanks, girl!”

The moment her
friend disappeared through the door, Alyx reasoned that her reaction to being
there was silly. Her ‘painter man’ didn’t know who she was or what she had been
up to. As far as he was concerned, she was just another customer. With her eyes
still closed, she imagined clinging to the promise she made to Benjamin. If she
could hold on to that, ignoring him would be a piece of cake.
I can’t let
him have this hold on me anymore.

With her hands
balled into courageous fists, she made her way back to the table.

A few minutes
later, they were deep into a conversation about marathon running when his
silhouette strode by their table again. He glanced at them as he passed and did
a double take once he had made it behind the counter. She drew in a quick
breath, and her fingernails dug into her legs.
It’s fine.
His lean form
continued to the kitchen in the back, and she allowed her breath to escape.

Her attention
refocused on Fredericks’ description of his meal plans before a big race, and
just as her nerves settled again, he emerged from the kitchen with plates of
food on a rectangular tray. When his path didn’t divert around their table this
time, she snatched her phone that lay beside her and pretended to text, typing
random keys. If she looked him in the eyes all of her confidence would ruin,
and her grip on her promise to Benjamin would certainly falter.

His dark green
apron met the edge of their table, and her face drew closer to the screen, her
thumbs clicking away at her faux text conversation.
“
Here’s your food!”
he said.

With those three
little words, his smooth Irish accent pierced her through the heart and her
thumbs froze on the key pad. “Your waitress asked for my help. Her section is slammed.
Who has the turkey and swiss with potato soup?

Without looking
up from the phone, she popped her hand into the air, and he placed the plate in
front of her. She knew her shameless disregard for his hospitality appeared
rude, but she didn’t care, she didn’t
dare
look at him now -- the very
sound of his voice jostled the cage she had locked all over again last night.

“And, Frederick,
you must have the roast beef and cheddar?” he asked and placed the next plate
down.

Nice, he’s on a
first name basis with my boss.

Frederick rubbed
his hands together vigorously as he stared at his sandwich. “You know it!”

“They already
know your name here?” Cindra asked with a giggle.

He peered up at her
‘painter man’. “I made quite the impression, didn’t I, Isaac?”

Isaac,
she thought as
she continued with her pretend texting.
He looks like an Isaac
.

Isaac patted him
on the shoulder in a friendly way. “I’ll just say that I’ve never had a
customer so… enthused over our food,” he said and shifted his gaze toward Alyx.
“And ma’am, you look familiar. Do I know you?”

Know me?!
she thought, and
her attention jerked away from the phone. The suggestion that he knew her from
somewhere was enough to break her determination to avoid him. The grip on her
promise to Benjamin had finally slipped.

When their eyes
met, the electric surge rolled through her body again, and her desire reached
through its cage and fused with the instinctual draw to him. They intertwined, like
a tightly bound rope, undecipherable as to which was which. It happened
involuntarily, as though it was being done without her permission, and was so
intense that it pulled at her to stand and walk to him. To stay grounded, she
locked her ankles around the metal chair legs.

As her wide eyes
remained fixated on his, she expected him to squirm from the heavy silence, but
he only regarded her with a polite, crooked grin on his face, piercing her
heart for a second time. Each one produced a wave of sharp pain, but she much
enjoyed the sensation.  She shook her head in an attempt to refocus, to bring
herself back down from the clouds, and cleared her throat. “I, um, I’m not
sure. I don’t believe we’ve ever met.”

His grinned
widened. “I
swear
I’ve at least ran into you before.”

Breaking his
fascination with her, a customer motioned to him for assistance. “Excuse me. Enjoy
your meals,” he said and was off.

During the
conversation, Frederick became disinterested and now played with his spoon,
swirling it around his coffee mug, but Cindra had been highly aware of every
aching moment. Her eyebrows sprang upward, and she pointed a chipped fingernail
at Alyx. “You’re gonna tell me what that was about,” she mouthed.

Alyx hunched over
her plate with embarrassment.
I should have never walked through that door.

* * *

With a light
mist dusting their faces, they hustled back to the office to beat the rain. Cindra
and Frederick walked a few paces ahead of her, chattering away, which Alyx appreciated
because it gave her a moment to process what had happened. So many times before
she had imagined what it would be like to meet him in person, never
anticipating it would ever come to fruition, and today, unintentionally, it
became a thrilling reality.

He was more
handsome in person than she had expected, even in his dark green work apron and
latex gloves. It wasn’t because she saw him up close; he looked exactly how she
expected. It was the way he spoke, his accent, his mysterious eyes, oh, his
eyes studying
her
for once. For the past three months, she had been the
one doing the studying. Being the other way around this time, it slightly
unnerved her, but she couldn’t deny that her head still floated amongst the
clouds.

CHAPTER
5:

Out
with a Bang

It could have
been the way her silken, black hair fell around her shoulders, or the way her
wide, chocolate brown eyes gazed into his as though it weren’t for the first
time, but something told Isaac that he had seen this attractive woman before
who sat at table seven.

During their
meal, he eavesdropped on their conversation as he walked back and forth from
the dining area to the kitchen, but his efforts to get her name were hardly a
success. She mainly sat in silence, disconnected from the other two’s repartee.
The only thing he knew for certain was that she worked for Frederick as his assistant.

After they had disappeared
through the glass door, he went to the register to see if the woman he
recognized used a card. He sifted through their waitress’ card slips underneath
the till, but found only one receipt for a Fredrick D. Bachman with all three
meals accounted for.
Damn, he paid.

He stacked the
receipts as neatly as he had found them and stood behind the counter chewing on
the end of a straw, staring at the chair she sat hunched over in. He couldn’t
believe he would ever forget a striking face such as hers. Although, it evoked
a strange longing inside, almost disturbing.

“Daydreaming
again, Isaac?” Tanya asked, snapping her fingers in his face, “table five asked
me to find you. They need their check.”

Isaac jerked
from his trance. “Sorry, boss!”

She squatted
next to him to grab a few clean glasses from under the counter and peered back
up at him. Even as he worked at the register to get the correct total for the
bill, he gazed over at the empty table with his eyes focused on her chair.

“It was that
girl, wasn’t it?” she asked as she stood, placing her hand on her hip.

Isaac shook his
head with pursed lips. “I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

“Don’t lie to
me, Lucky Charms,” she teased, and her round face drew into a smirk, “I saw the
way you looked at her. I haven’t seen you look at a woman like that, well,
since I’ve known you.”

His cheeks
flushed red.

She poked her
finger into his shoulder. “See, I told you! It was that girl.”

He ripped the
receipt from the register and headed for his table. “Alright, you win, but she
didn’t act a bit interested in me so it’s a moot point.”

Tanya thumped him
in the arm as he passed. “That’s because you can’t read women, stupid. She
acted more nervous than a whore in church.”

“Nice, Tanya.”

“Look, all I’m
trying to say is the next time you see her, you need to get on it. She won’t
refuse. Believe me.”

“Well, that’s if
I see her again.”

* * *

The events at
lunch rendered Alyx useless the rest of the afternoon. Her plans to get her
mind off of her daunting circumstances had backfired. Big time. The impression Isaac
had made on her was as seemingly permanent as the tiny holes he had left in her
newly pierced heart. She found that her resolution to let go of him for good
slowly deteriorated, and if she didn’t get it under control again, her plans to
commit to Benjamin would eventually do the same.

Every time she
closed her eyes, she saw him looking at her for the first time and her stomach
would flutter like a million tiny butterfly wings. She would then glance at
Benjamin’s picture beside her computer and a wave of guilt crashed into her.
She felt as though she might smother as she sat there, helpless at her desk,
where her emotional juggling failed miserably.

Up until seeing
him at the bistro, her decision to give up the rooftop nights seemed liked the
right thing to do – the
smart
thing to do – but she couldn’t find that
same peace about it now. Shouldn’t she be happy that her handsome, doting
boyfriend wanted her to commit and move in with him? Wasn’t that the
right
way to feel?
What’s wrong with me?

She sent
Frederick an email two hours before her leave time to request the rest of the
day off, to which he obliged. She shouldn’t be there. They basically paid her
to mull. Plus, if she left early, she could avoid Cindra’s interrogation over
what happened at lunch.

She grabbed her
purse from the drawer and waited for her friend to head to the break room for
her afternoon snack craving. While hugging her purse to her stomach, she
glanced down at the clock on her computer screen.
One thirty-two.
She’s
two minutes behind schedule.
Her heels rapidly tapped against the floor as
she stared at Cindra’s cube, and she finally saw her blonde hair peek over the
top of the wall. Her hands flung in the air in lively gestures as she chattered
with her cube mate Erica.

Come on!
 Alyx thought,
tapping her feet faster.

Cindra then
rounded her cubical wall and made her way to the break room with her orange in
hand.
There she goes.

Alyx made a run
for it, her office chair spinning in her wake.

“Where are
you
off to?” Mona griped behind her, but she didn’t slow down. She needed to
get out of there.

Her drive home
over the wet pavement proved more eventful than work, thanks to her distant,
preoccupied mind. When she pulled out of the parking lot, her back, right tire
ran up over the curb, scraping the hubcap, and as she cussed her oversight she
slammed on the brakes, the pedestrian who strolled through the crosswalk reminding
her with a not-so-kind gesture that it was not her turn to go.

When she finally,
and safely, made it home, she dumped her bags at the front door and headed for
the bedroom. Her phone beeped as she made her way there, and she paused by the
kitchen to dig it from her purse. A text from Cindra.
You ditched out early,
huh? Lol Call me later, I want to talk to you about your “moment” at lunch
.

She rolled her
eyes and pressed the power button.  All she wanted was some time to relax, and
conjuring up an explanation for her friend wouldn’t accomplish that.

As soon as she crashed
through her bedroom door, she yawned deeply. Between the late, emotional night
with Benjamin, the stalker that morning, and seeing Isaac at lunch, she felt
indisputably drained
.
Not bothering to find pajamas, she stripped down to
nothing and slid into bed. Her mind floated away into the darkness before her
head hit the pillow.

*
* *

After his shift,
Isaac made his way to the grocery store in search of something quick for
dinner. This was his usual routine on Monday’s since
Micah stayed after
school for Beta club with Jordan, and Carla picked them up to take them to eat
before bringing him home.
Maybe a frozen pizza tonight,
he thought with his
hands clinched inside his jacket pockets. He forgot his gloves that morning,
and the sun was intent on hiding behind the clouds, the daylight ineffective at
keeping the cold away.

Halfway down the
first block, something lightly tapped him on the hair and rolled its way to his
scalp and onto his forehead.
Rain.
His usual stroll picked up to a jog because
he had forgotten his umbrella as well, and when he made it through the sliding
double doors of the store, he shook the rain from his jacket.

As he meandered
through the isles of frozen food, his mind wandered back to the woman at the bistro.
It could have been wishful thinking, but he had to admit now that Tanya was
probably right. Even though the woman appeared reserved, nervousness lurked
beneath her hesitant gaze. Maybe he was too busy studying her other features to
really notice. Or give it a second thought. At the time, all of his thoughts revolved
around her allure.

Isaac stared at
his reflection on the freezer door and ran his fingers through his damp hair.
Is
it possible that she was attracted to me too?
he wondered, and a spark
flickered inside. He hadn’t been interested in a woman like that since he met
his late wife, and he almost forgot what it felt like. He didn’t know if he
would ever see her again, but was thankful they had crossed paths however
awkward it was. He now realized that being a widower the rest of his life
wasn’t his fate.
Thank you, God, and thank you, mystery woman.

With his
personal-sized meat pizza and six pack of soda in tow, he made his way home
over the flooded sidewalks. Despite the rain saturating him from his head down
to his black Converses, the new ‘spark’ inspired a glow about him as he
whistled the song that had blared over the grocery store intercom. He now had
hope, something that he hadn’t had in a long time.

His life with
Micah the past five years had been fulfilling, but very trying. Raising a child
on his own after the death of his soul mate challenged his sanity, to say the
least. Not only had he attempted to work through his own grief, but he still
had to be functional enough to take care of Micah who needed help carrying his
grief, as well. He felt confident that they had already been through the worst
of it, but there had always been the lingering notion that his life would never
be what it was. He still wasn’t convinced of that, but at least he had hope.

He kicked off
his soggy shoes just inside the front door. The arches of his feet ached from
standing on them all day. He hobbled to the kitchen to warm his pizza in the
oven and turned on the TV with the remote.

Still whistling,
he stripped his wet clothes and threw them into the hamper under the staircase.
To rid the smell of freshly baked bread and cold cuts that had fused with his
skin, he showered off and slipped into a pair of old sweatpants and a faded U2
t-shirt. He tousled his wet hair as he checked the timer on the oven. His
frozen meal would take twenty more minutes to bake. Not wanting to forget about
his soaked clothes in the hamper that would ultimately sour, he dumped the
contents into a white clothes basket and slid his feet into a pair of flip
flops.

He stepped off
of the elevator into the dimly lit hallway of the basement and walked toward
the laundry mat with a spring in his step. He enjoyed doing laundry this early in
the day before the nine-to-fivers made it home – finding an empty washing
machine was never an issue.

Once inside the
rectangular room, he opened the lid to the washer in the back right corner and
dumped the clothes and detergent in.  Their clothes would take a good half hour
to wash, so he whirled back around to head for his flat. When he approached the
door, someone turned the corner and paused, blocking his only exit.

The man in the
black suit.

His hands
released the basket, and it fell to the floor with a hollow thud. “You scared
the shit out of me!” he snapped as his hand flew to his chest.

Unresponsive to
his scolding, the man continued to stand in the doorway, his eyes blazing into him,
and Isaac’s feet shifted side to side with nervous energy. If the man were
there to harm him, Isaac stood in a bad location within the room -- literally
cornered.

His son’s voice
echoed through his mind.
There’s something ‘off’ about him, dad
. He
definitely had to agree now. Before, he couldn’t pinpoint what the look on his
face reminded him of, but now that they were face to face with no distractions
around them, he could get a better read. A disconnect rested within them,
suggestive of sleep walking, or perhaps something a little more sinister.

“You come to
wash clothes?” Isaac asked in a weak attempt to break the ice. Although, he
already knew the answer.

The man still
wouldn’t respond, his eyes remaining fixated.

Isaac knelt to
grab the basket, and when he straightened, the doorway was empty.

He hurried to
the threshold and peered around the corner, expecting to see his black suit
walking toward the elevators, but he was nowhere to be seen. There were no
footsteps or anything else to suggest he was ever even there. A shiver ran
through him.
Creepy lad, that one.

Reluctant to
walk down the hallway alone, he leaned against the door frame and thought over
the past five years, how he should have gotten to know the other tenants there.
Rachel was always better at reaching out to others than he, and since her
passing there were a lot of people to come and go from the complex. If he hadn’t
been so absorbed with his own life, he would feel comfortable asking his
neighbors if they knew who he was and what he was like, and if he was as rude
to them as he was to him. The only thing he
did
know was that he irrefutably
gave him the willies. And with each encounter came the growing suspicion that
he singled him out for some reason.