After a quick breath of fresh air out front, Sienna came back inside and waved at Jay, who was helping a group of three customers. “Need help?” she mouthed.
He shook his head and jerked his head toward the narrow hallway that was the only access to the back of the shotgun-style café.
She walked slowly back toward the single, unisex bathroom between the kitchen and the office, absorbing what she could now that she was unobserved. It was an unusual setup for a restaurant, almost as though it had been put in to use a sliver of space. With how long and thin the space was, there were very few uses it could have been put to.
The retrofit into the old building meant that the only way to get from the public area to anything else, including the kitchen, was to pass down the hallway. They did have a service pass-through window they could hand things through, but they had to come out from behind the counter and walk around to actually get into the kitchen itself.
There was an emergency exit to the alley in the hallway—for fire code, she supposed—but both Harlan and Jay had explained that it was kept alarmed at all times due to the not-so-safe nature of the area and its proximity to the office. It was also loud enough to be disruptive to customers, so they just chose not to use the exit.
She examined the alarm affixed to the push bar. It was armed and needed a key to be deactivated. So if someone came in from the outside, it would ostensibly go off until someone either turned it off or closed the door. It wasn’t a logical or easy route in and out, and they’d never seen anyone go through it in their surveillance. The front door was the only real access point then. She sighed and continued down the hall.
The empty office at the very end tempted her but she would stick to the original plan and thoroughly search it and its contents later, after close. There wasn’t much to be found in the tiny kitchen and she already knew it intimately after working in there all morning.
She passed it, went into the bathroom and proceeded to tidy it up, basically killing time until she heard a masculine voice in the hallway.
“You sure? I swear, most places they’re dying to let me help.”
A pause then Jay answered, “Nah. I got it. Boss isn’t actually in today, but I’ve got my routine down. And I have some help.”
“Oh? Did you hire…?”
Their voices became faint and it sounded like they went into the kitchen.
After putting everything away and washing up, she checked her appearance in the mirror. In addition to her usual surge of adrenaline before a ‘performance’, a twinge of nerves tightened her stomach. She ran her fingers over the shockingly distinct bruise on her neck.
Pull it together.
Head high, she left the room and headed toward the kitchen, pausing outside the door to catch up to the thread of the conversation.
“…seems like a nice girl, and obviously knows what she’s doing around an espresso machine. More help than Harlan, that’s for sure.”
The offhanded praise from Jay pleased her. Hey, she wasn’t immune to flattery, though usually her investigative prowess was the topic rather than her skills as a barista. She stifled a laugh at the thought.
A deep, rich laugh had her moving closer before she caught herself. “I can imagine”—the man chuckled—“though I’m starting to think that your boss is a figment of your imagination, dude. Haven’t seen him working yet, I don’t think, even though he always seems to be in his office.”
“Not today,” Jay reminded the driver, and Sienna heard the distinctive sound of the refrigerator closing. Delivery Guy sure was curious about what happened around here. Lots of questions and leading comments. Was that because he was knee-deep in it and needed to know what had happened to Harlan? Or was he just a nosy talker?
“True. But that doesn’t change the fact that I still haven’t seen him. Or this paragon of a new barista you have working today. Where’s she hiding?”
That was a cue if she ever heard one.
She moved from her place against the wall and stepped through the open doorway.
Jay saw her right away, though he gave only a brief flick of his gaze in her direction. Meanwhile the delivery guy had his back to her, standing with one hand resting on the handle of the hand cart. He was tall and extremely well built. Man, he had the deep V from broad shoulders to relatively narrow waist going in spades. His ass rounded out his uniform pants nicely, almost straining the material. Pretty, short, blond haircut and a tanned neck that obviously took well to the sun. The hint of his face she could see in profile looked handsome and rugged and as though it matched the body.
He’d kind of won the genetic lottery.
“Oh, Cici’s around,” Jay responded in a slightly sarcastic, dry tone of voice she already recognized as a sign he was amused by a situation. He studiously avoided looking at her.
And the fucker was still calling her Cici.
“Cici?” Of course his companion picked right up on that. Didn’t this guy have a timetable on his route or something? Seemed like he was settling in to stand around and shoot the shit all day. “That’s different,” he continued. “Short for Cecilia or something?”
“Something like that,” Jay agreed vaguely as he turned away and washed his hands.
Sienna wondered if he had caught on to the guy’s undue and obvious interest in the goings-on at the café.
Jay dried off with a towel then quickly faced the door again, saying, “Well, I’d better get back out front. You can just leave the paper goods’ boxes in here. I’ll sort them out later with Cici’s help.”
The delivery guy threw his hands up in mock frustration. “Okay, fine. You know, one of these days I’m going to quit offering. Then I’ll bet you’ll need the help. Murphy’s Law.” He took a step back then efficiently slid the last box off the dolly and maneuvered it next to another the same size up against the counter.
He wheeled the dolly around and turned toward the door…and stopped short when he saw Sienna. After a tiny start of surprise, his mouth dropped slightly open while he took her in from head to toe and back up. It was pretty gratifying that she’d caught him off guard. She tried to remain unaffected by his assessment, but had to fight to keep from shifting as his regard was almost like a physical touch.
His expression of shock quickly turned heated, as though he was picking up her vibes, and a smile slowly spread across his face as he studied the hickey on her neck. “Cici?” he ventured in an amused tone of voice. “Fancy meeting you here.”
“Hello, Greg.”
Chapter Three
Though seeing her dance partner here wasn’t a surprise—at least for her—her physical reaction to him was.
It’s not every guy who can get you off without even having to take your clothes off.
That was true, and maybe it had been a mistake to turn ‘bumping into’ him and making contact into a sexual thing. But who would have thought that she’d be in any danger of an intimate interlude right there in public at a club, for God’s sake? She wasn’t a back room kind of girl. The real mistake had probably been approaching him to begin with—though, really, it was hard to say who had been the one to initiate the encounter.
A couple of weeks ago, she’d been reviewing the surveillance reports of the people the team was investigating. She’d taken note of the fact that Greg Mazzeo—the new delivery driver for the café—frequently visited the club section of the very same bar she tended to unwind at. The coincidence had jumped out at her, and she’d mentally filed that away as one of life’s little ironies.
Two nights ago, she’d been there having a drink after a particularly frustrating meeting with Boone, and she’d remembered about Greg Mazzeo going there and had gotten curious. With her, boredom and questions always tended to lead to action. So she’d made a point of venturing out of her normal haunt into the dance area to watch for him.
But before she’d been able to spot him, he was touching her on the shoulder to get her attention then asking her if she’d like to dance.
<
br /> And what a dance it had been…
“I was kicking myself that I never got your name or number the other night, thinking it’d be a shame if I never saw you again. And now, here we are. Small freaking world, isn’t it?” Greg cocked his head. “Never would have pegged you as a Cici, though.”
“Oh?” Sienna quirked her lips, trying not to smile. “I’m not exactly sure how to take that.”
“I take it you guys have met,” Jay interjected, and the sarcasm dripping from his tone made Sienna’s smile drop as she shot a sharp glance at the heretofore cheerful employee. “Which is great and coincidental and will make a fun story to tell your grandkids, but we should all probably get back to work.” He sent a tray clattering into the stainless steel sink.
Startled at Jay’s abrupt change in mood, Sienna stared at him, wondering what had set him off. She finally nodded. “Good point. We’ve been back here a while. Crap, I hope no customers are waiting.”
“I don’t think so. I didn’t hear the bell, and trust me—I’m tuned into it,” Jay grudgingly reassured her. Nevertheless, he led the trio down the hall at a fast clip to the front area. Sienna was glad to see that, as he’d predicted, no one was at the counter, though just then the door chimed and a woman dressed for the office came in.
Jay walked around behind the counter and that left Sienna standing somewhat awkwardly with Greg near the front door. The door chimed again—this time it was a trio of teenagers.
Sienna knew that Greg didn’t have another delivery here until the day after tomorrow. “I’d better get back to work.” She knew that any sort of overture at this point would be too much too soon, but it was a bit disappointing that they’d barely exchanged a dozen words.
“See you later.” Greg gave her a wink then backed out of the door with his dolly.
Rather than watch him head to the truck, she forced herself to turn away and hurry behind the counter. She started a couple of shots of espresso and moved to take Jay’s place steaming milk so he could go to the register. He gave her an unreadable look, and she knew she was going to have to figure out soon what had caused his one-eighty.
As they worked efficiently but quietly together the rest of the work day, Sienna had plenty of time to think. Something having to do with Sienna and Greg knowing one another seemed to really bother Jay. Was it due to some concern about an employee being too friendly with a service provider? Did he have a crush on Greg—or, God forbid, on her?—and was jealous of their connection? Or was there something more to it—something having to do with the criminal activity in and around the building?
She’d kept an eye on his interactions with customers all day. He had a phenomenal memory and evidently a lot of regular customers. Many times he’d call out the order to her before the customer had even walked in the door. He was friendly with most, a bit more genuine with some…and nothing about any of his actions or contact with people gave her anything to go on. It was frustrating as hell, but she could be patient.
Just before closing, a pair of men walked into the shop and Sienna made sure to keep her face neutral. It wasn’t any hardship for her team to come and check in with her and multitask by getting coffee at the same time. It could be the routine stop-in they’d planned, or something might have happened with the case. She’d know when Ty ordered.
“What can I get you, officers?” Jay asked when they got to the counter.
Sienna was glad she was behind Jay because—damn—he’d made them as cops on first sight? That was pretty impressive. Tyson and Boyd barely reacted but she knew from long experience working with them that they hadn’t expected that either.
“Biggest cup of house brew you got. No sugar, room for cream,” Tyson said decisively. The code they’d worked out ahead of time told her that they hadn’t spotted anything unusual during their surveillance, nor had they learned anything new in the investigation, but they had some not-urgent information to give to her at some point. She relaxed a bit.
“Dark roast, regular house or the daily special?” she asked. That wasn’t part of any code—more about needling Tyson about his boring drink choice under the cover of doing her job.
Ty’s eyebrows went up and he smirked. “What do you recommend?” Now that they were down to just a coffee order, he was going to fuck with her. He was enjoying the spectacle of her serving him way too much.
“Well, if you’re going to put cream in it, probably the dark roast or the special”—she could see his next question forming on his lips and headed him off—“which is the Kenyan fair trade today, in case you were wondering.”
He looked a bit disappointed that she’d spoiled his fun. “Dark roast.”
Boyd continued to scan the menu long enough that Sienna already had Tyson’s drink ready and Jay had rung him up. “And you, sir?” he prompted.
“Umm…”
Oh, God. She was going to kill him. Problem was, she knew exactly what he usually drank but wasn’t in the position to say anything or give away that she knew him.
Jay maintained his pleasant, expectant expression, though by now Tyson had wandered over to top off his cup with half and half and Sienna was about to throw an espresso cup at Boyd’s balding head.
“Would you like some suggestions?” she prodded.
“Uh. Well, I’m actually kind of set on what I like…”
“And what would that be?” Jay asked patiently.
“Sorry. Your menu is just different from the places I usually go…”
Enough was enough. “Why don’t you tell us what you order at your usual coffee place and we’ll tell you how to get a similar drink here?” Sienna was proud of how calm—and even a bit disinterested—her voice sounded to her ears.
“Oh, sure.” Boyd smiled with relief. “That’s a great idea, miss. Thank you. I usually order an extra hot, grande white chocolate mocha with an extra shot and a pump of caramel. With whip. At…Starbucks.” He whispered this last as though speaking the name of the coffee giant might get him kicked out of the café.
Actually, in some indie coffee houses around town it might.
Sienna grimaced—she had tried a sip of his concoction once and it had about put her into a diabetic coma. “Yes, sir. We can absolutely do that for you.” Though she wasn’t sure why he would want to do that to himself. She got the triple espresso going then started steaming the non-fat milk as a compromise since Boyd was always trying to lose weight. What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.
The guys also bought a couple of scones, which were obviously both for Boyd since Tyson didn’t eat gluten. Once they’d paid and left, Jay glanced at the time. There were only a handful of people sitting around, all by themselves and all on their laptops or other devices.
“We’ll be closing up in five minutes,” he announced.
There was a flurry of motion as customers started to gather their stuff and unplug cords. Jay walked over to the neon ‘Open’ sign and switched it off. He returned to the counter. “I’ll walk you through closing.” They were the first non-drink related words he’d said to her since Greg had left.
“Great,” she replied, then, because her character would have definitely got the message by now, she went on, “Hey, Jay, can I ask you something?”
“Sure,” he said, while pulling a cart out from where it was tucked by the wall. He opened up the pastry display case from the back and started pulling plates of leftover baked goods out one by one and setting them on the bottom shelf.
“Did I offend you in some way? I mean, I thought we were getting along pretty well, then all of sudden you got really quiet.”
Jay went still and pressed his lips together. “Sorry about that.” He went back to working without saying anything further and it didn’t escape her notice that he hadn’t answered the question.
Sienna sighed then let it drop as she looked around for something to do.
She worked on pulling the carafes and fixings. Meanwhile, the last customer had filed out. Jay went over to the door and lock
ed it up behind her, then drew the blinds on all the windows as well as the door. He must have felt her watching him and said, “I always close them down right away, otherwise people see you working in here and they’ll knock on the door to try to get a last-minute drink.”
“Really? Even though we’re obviously closed?”
“Yeah.” He gave a reluctant chuckle, seeming to loosen up a bit now that they were talking again. “It’s almost irresistible for some reason to the types who think they’re pretty special. Happens all the time.”
“And of course they want something super complicated.”
“And don’t tip.” Jay grinned at her, and she smiled back, glad that they’d regained some of their earlier ease with each other.
They finished the clean-up of both the public area and the kitchen working in tandem, then Jay headed back to the office with her, each of them carrying one of the boxes Greg had left earlier.
“I usually do the bank deposit on the way home then just bring the receipt back the next day and add it to the credit card machine closeout.” He picked that up and waved it at her, placing it deliberately on the inbox tray sitting on Harlan’s desk. “He goes over the previous day’s books the next morning. Sorry, I don’t know everything about that part, though I’m sure you can call him if you need help.”
It was the opening she’d been looking for. “Yeah, I thought I’d stay here and get oriented, if that’s okay with you?”
After a couple of seconds, Jay nodded. “Sure. You’re the boss. Well, the boss’ niece anyway.” They both laughed. “Come on—let’s get this stock put away and I’ll get out of your hair.”
Jay opened the storage closet and kick-shoved the boxes inside, maneuvering them over the thick industrial mat.
“You could really use that mat out front by the machine. My feet are killing me.”
Jay nodded. “You get used to it. Harlan said this one actually used to be out there but it was hard to keep clean so he just stuck it in here. Comes in handy during inventory, I guess.”
Secret Identity (What's Her Secret?) Page 2
