by Lisa Emme
I snorted a thanks, but on the inside, my heart went pitty-pat. I was so distracted that at first I didn’t notice that Alberto was leading us into the newer section of the restaurant.
“Oh! Hey, Alberto, can we get a table back in the older dining room?” I gave him my most charming smile.
“No, sorry, we’re all full up. Got a big reservation coming in.” He looked at me expectantly.
“Okay. No problem.” I gave a little shrug.
“Is something wrong?” Nash looked at me in concern.
“No, it’s fine. I just prefer the old part of the restaurant.”
We got seated at our table and I looked around, breathing a sigh of relief. Okay, maybe there really wouldn’t be a problem. Minetti’s had expanded over the years, growing out of its small, original space to occupy the adjacent building as well. They had done a wonderful job incorporating the old with the new. The only problem was that the new space had once upon a time been a migrant sweat shop, probably back in the late 1800s when things like employee health and workplace safety weren’t high on the list. As a result, the new section of Minetti’s tended to house an unusual assortment of spectral visitors. I had met them all at one time or another. Several were rather innocuous, simply trying to live vicariously by watching the restaurant’s patrons eat. One, a man named Olivier – he never gave me his last name, likened himself to a food critic, judging the plates on presentation and speed at which the diner cleaned it off. Another, I called Pacing Patty, lived up to her name, never saying a word, simply pacing back and forth across the dining room, biting her nails.
The worst was Shriek. Clearly emaciated in life, he spent his ghostly years pacing around the dining room, stopping to yell at the top of his lungs into the faces of the dining patrons. They of course, could not hear his blood curdling screams. It was a different story for me. Luckily, he didn’t seem to be around today.
“Are you okay?” Nash reached across the table and took my hand.
“You might not want to do that,” I replied quickly, trying to pull my hand back.
“Why not?” Nash held my fingers tight in his grasp. He looked around the room carefully, starting in surprise when Olivier popped his head up through an adjacent table.
“The marinara looks a little runny,” the ghost said, shaking his head with a ‘tsk’. “I’d stay away from it today if I were you.”
“Shit!” Nash pushed my hand away in surprise and then gave his head a little shake. He reached for my hand again. Olivier winked at him. “Holy crap. Who’s that guy?”
“That’s Olivier,” I replied nonchalantly. “He thinks he’s a food critic.” Olivier raised his nose in the air with disdain and popped out of sight again.
“Wow, are there more?” Nash scanned the dining area again, his fingers locked on mine.
I shrugged. “They come and go. This section of the restaurant is the worst. It used to be a sweat shop.”
Nash nodded his head as understanding became clear. “Oh…ohhhhhh.” He frowned. “Is this okay? Do you want to leave?”
“What? And risk getting on Nonna’s bad side?” I shook my head. “No thanks.” I gave him a reassuring smile. “Besides, it’s nothing new for me.”
Nash gave my hand another little comforting squeeze. “Well, let me know if something, or rather someone, starts to bother you.” He pulled his hand away just as Alberto arrived with our antipasto platter - slices of provolone, strips of roasted red pepper, olives, bocconcini, thinly sliced prosciutto and salami, served with two thick slabs of bread. Yum. Good thing I had a high metabolism.
***
No one else made an appearance, at least not through the main course. Nash had finally got his meatball sub and he laughed when I told him about Tess and our lunchtime picnic in his room. Since I’d already had my sub fix the other day, I indulged in my other Minetti’s favourite, the Spaghetti Carbonara. Made with pancetta and crispy bits of bacon, parmigiano and pecorino, it was enough to make your eyes roll back in your head with pleasure. Nash watched me eat the first few mouthfuls with a heated look of appreciation on his face and then he growled and tore his eyes away.
“What?” I asked him innocently.
“If you make that happy little mewing sound one more time, or lick your lips like that again, I don’t think I can be held responsible for my actions.” He gave me a lascivious look.
“What’s the matter, Nash? Feeling a little wound up after this morning?” I fluttered my eyelashes at him.
He laughed and then turned a heated gaze on me. His nostrils flared and he gave me an appraising look. With a little nod of satisfaction, he replied, “I see you read my note.” He smiled smugly.
My mouth gaped in mock outrage. “Oh yeah, I saw your note.” I scowled at him. “Just who do you…”
“EEEEEEEEEYAAAHHHHHH!”
I flinched back as the Shriek made his appearance. His face was right in mine, his translucent body hovering half in, half out of the table in front of me.
“Dammit, Shriek. Take a hike.”
“What’s the matter, Harry?” Nash reached for my hand.
“You might not want to….” Too late. Nash’s fingers twined with mine just as Shriek turned to face him.
“EEEEEEEEYAAAAAAAAAHHHH!” He screeched at Nash, his eyes bugging out.
Nash threw his head back, his hand instinctively going to his belt where his gun would normally be if he had been wearing it. He had dropped contact with my hand and so could no longer see Shriek.
“Shit, Harry. How can you stand it?” He looked at me incredulously.
I shrugged. “You kind of get used to it. Not ones like Shriek, but the others. I’ve never seen the world differently.” I flinched again as Shriek, who had moved on to the patrons at the next table, let loose another long, high-pitched scream. As we quickly finished up our meal, I added, “Maybe we could get dessert to go?” Nash nodded and waved down Alberto. I excused myself and headed to the ladies room.
***
I was at the sink washing my hands when my hackles rose, or they would have, if I was a wolf. Maybe I’ve been spending too much time with werewolves. At any rate, my whole body suddenly felt on alert.
I looked up in the mirror to see a woman, tall and blonde, approaching me. I turned to face her, a puzzled look on my face. She looked so familiar, but I couldn’t place her.
When she realized that I had noticed her, she turned a plastic smile on me. “Harry,” she cooed. “I thought that was you I smelled.” She wrinkled her nose and then made a show of checking to make sure the room was empty except for us. “Vampires just reek, don’t you know,” she stage whispered.
“I’m sorry, you have me at a disadvantage. Should I know you?” I gave her a cold stare.
“I’m Melissa.” She raised a haughty chin in the air. “And no, you wouldn’t know me. I don’t slum and hang out with bloodsuckers, but I know you.” She all but snarled at me and that’s when I remembered where I had seen her. It was at the Lodge. She had been having a little catfight with a tiny brunette over the privilege of talking with Nash.
“Oh, I remember you. You’re the tall blonde from the Lodge whose clothes were too small. Did you gain weight or something recently? I heard that can be a problem with women approaching menopause.”
“Why you…” She reached out as if to claw my eyes. I flicked my hand and stopped her arms in midair. I’d had plenty of opportunity to practice my telekinesis in the last week so she was no match for the invisible bonds I wrapped around her wrists, holding her in place. Her eyes widened and she struggled helplessly. Her nostrils flared and a look of devastation flashed over her face. “So it is true. He really did mark you? A dirty mongrel vampire?” She backed away, shaking her head in denial and I released her, letting her retreat towards the door.
I shrugged. “Yeah, it’s true. So sad for you, but really, y
ou didn’t stand a chance.”
“Shut up you filthy cow!” She stamped a foot like a toddler throwing a trantrum. She turned back to me, her face twisted with rage. She looked at me through narrowed eyes. “I’d watch your back if I were you. The mate bond may be for life, but it doesn’t necessarily survive through death.” She sneered at me. “Do you really think that someone like Cian, a werewolf, would be happy with a half-breed, bloodsucker like you? He deserves more. He deserves to be with one of his own kind.” With another snarl, she turned on her four-inch stilettos and stalked out of the room.
Chapter Nine
“You’re awfully quiet, minx. Everything okay?” Nash turned to look at me, taking his eyes from the road for a moment. We were on our way home from the restaurant. I sat in the passenger seat with not one, but two dessert doggy bags. Thank you, Nonna.
I shrugged. I had been thinking about my encounter with Melissa. “Tell me something,” I said, shifting in my seat to give him an appraising look.
“Sure, anything.”
“What did you think when you first saw me, that day at the park when I found Bryce’s body?”
Nash, eyes back on the road, shifted in his seat and took a long, slow breath. “The first thing I thought?”
“Yeah.”
“That I was going to give that beat cop a piece of my mind for letting you use your phone while you waited.”
I huffed out a little breath. “That’s not what I meant.” I crossed my arms and gave him an impatient look.
Nash flipped a hand off the steering wheel, palm up. “I don’t know. I was pissed off about being called in so early in the day. We had a bad call the night before and I hadn’t had much sleep so I wasn’t really thinking anything except how I’d rather be back in bed. But then you looked over at us from across the street and you had this guilty look, like you’d been up to something. You sort of bit your lower lip and all I could think about is what your lips tasted like.” He threw me a heated look. “Yeah, kind of like what you’re doing now.”
I blinked and released my lip. I hadn’t realized I was biting it. I licked my lips self-consciously and Nash growled. “And a few minutes later, when we met face to face? What went through your mind then?” I honestly wasn’t fishing for compliments. I just needed to know what Nash had thought in that first moment. To me, it really felt like we’d had a moment when we first looked into each other’s eyes. You know, one of those ‘time stood still’ kind of things. It sounds totally corny, but it’s true.
Nash sighed. “Do we really need to talk about this now? What brought this on?” I gave him another pointed look. “Okay,” he replied, shaking his head. “But you’re not going to like it.” He ran a hand through his hair. “When I shook your hand and looked into your eyes that first time, I knew right then that you were my mate. The moment I caught your scent my wolf knew and he wanted you.” He put up a hand stalling my reply. “I wanted you. I thought you were the cutest, sexiest little thing I had ever seen. You were all flustered and trying to act all business-like babbling away, but I could hear your heart thumping in your chest, smell your arousal. You had on that sexy little dress and I could see straight down your cleavage well enough to know you weren’t wearing a bra.”
I gasped in mock outrage. “You perv!” Nash gave me a cheeky grin. I thought back to that day, remembering the look on Nash’s face. “So why did you frown? Did it make you angry that I was your mate?”
“Angry? Harry, no!” He pulled his truck into the parking lot behind my building. “I was shocked, sure, but not angry. And I guess I was feeling a little frustrated. You were involved in a murder I was investigating. For all I knew at that point, you could have been a suspect.” He shut off the truck and turned to face me again.
“So you weren’t mad that I wasn’t a werewolf?” I looked away, not wanting to make eye contact.
Nash reached over and grasped my chin firmly, tipping my head up so he could see my eyes. “No, I didn’t even think about that.” I could feel his eyes on me as he waited. When I finally brought my eyes up to meet his, he nodded. “I was struggling, Harry.” He ran another hand through his hair. “You don’t understand what it means, what it feels like, when a werewolf finds his mate. It took every ounce of will power I had not to pull you up against me and kiss you. I thought I was going to go nuts. And then later in the day, I could still smell your scent everywhere I went. I really thought I had lost it when I smelled you in Bryce’s apartment.” He gave me a dirty look and I tried to look contrite but it only earned me a ‘yeah right’ snort from Nash.
There was an awkward moment of silence. Part of me was wishing I had kept my mouth shut, the other was trying to get up the courage to tell Nash that Salvador was my father. I had let my encounter with the she-wolf bitch Melissa shake me though, so I kept my mouth shut. I grabbed one of the take-out containers. “So, you up for some dessert? I bet I even know a great little place to get some coffee to go with it.”
***
I was right about the coffee. Isaac, Morris and the boys were still playing with the new coffee maker. I’d let us in through the back door. Nash paused in the new kitchen and looked around.
“Wow! Quite the set up.” He looked impressed.
“Thanks. I can’t take any credit for it. I promised Isaac a gourmet kitchen to bake in if he planned and paid for it. All I did was provide the space.”
When we arrived out front, there seemed to be an argument going on.
“No, it’s just not right. You can’t make a proper cappuccino with non-fat milk.” Isaac looked scandalized. “I refuse to allow it.”
Morris threw up his hands in disgust. “Bah! You will lose business. Norms are obsessed with fat. Everything is half-fat this, no-fat that.”
“I don’t care. They can go drink half-fat swill somewhere else. We are going to be a proper coffee establishment.”
“Oh boy,” I said to myself and then waded into the fray. “Hey boys, Isaac, Morris.” I nodded to the group. “What’s up?”
“Harry, I refuse to serve coffee with non-fat milk.” Isaac made a face.
“Uh, okay, sure. We can give it a try....” In fact, the more I thought about it, the more I was beginning to really like the idea. It could be our ‘gimmick’, something to set us apart from the other coffee shops in the neighbourhood. Besides, I had a feeling our core customers wouldn’t be counting calories. If anything, they would probably be happy for the extra fat.
“Oh, oh, look out, I see the wheels turning.” Nash’s voice was full of amusement. He held me by the shoulders and led me over to a stool. “You better sit down, Harry. You look like you’re going to hurt yourself.”
“Oh, ha ha, very funny, Nash.” I gave him a playful swat, but sat down all the same. I turned to look at Isaac. “I think it’s a great idea. We only serve the best coffee with the best ingredients. No low fat, no non-fat, nothing artificial. We can put it right on the menu….” I kept mulling the idea over in my head. “And, we’ll call the place the Full Fat Coffee Company.” I waved my hand out in front of me like I was reading a marquee. I looked at the group. “So, what do you think?”
“Perfect.” Isaac smiled smugly, looking at Morris who had thrown his hands up in defeat. I guess we had a name.
“So, who do I have to know to get a coffee in this place?”
***
Isaac served up two steaming mugs of cappuccino then disappeared with Morris and the boys back to the kitchen, leaving Nash and me alone. I cracked open one of the desserts. It was a generous portion of tiramisu.
“Mine.” Nash grabbed the container from me with a playful growl.
“Hey! Nonna packed that for me.” I pouted at him as he scooped up a generous portion with the little plastic spoon from the container and shoved it in his mouth with a grin.
“No,” he replied after a moment, “Nonna
packed that one for you.” He pointed to the other container with his spoon. “This one’s mine. I paid for it.”
“Hmmph. Why didn’t you just say so?” I opened the other container and a little sound of glee escaped me. “Chocolate Cassata!” I licked my lips in anticipation. “Nonna knows me too well.” I bent over the container and inhaled the sweet scent of chocolate. I was practically salivating at the sight of the decadent dessert - layers of rich, dense chocolate cake sandwiched around layers of sweetened ricotta cheese with chocolate chips and then smothered in a creamy fudge frosting. I was in heaven. I closed my eyes and took another deep breath only to have the container suddenly disappear from my hands. “Hey!” I looked at Nash. He lifted the container up over my head.
“I think you need to come over here to eat this.” He backed up holding the container hostage until he reached the first booth. “If you eat this anywhere near like you did the carbonara, I want to watch every bite.” He grinned at me.
“Fine with me,” I said, stomping over to the booth. I sat down and Nash placed the container in front of me before sliding in on the other side of the table. “This orgasm is all mine.” I scooped a mouthful and closed my mouth around the spoon, letting the chocolate dissolve on my tongue, savouring the rich flavour with a low moan as Nash’s surprised laugh rang through the shop.
***
“So, the end of date number two.” Nash stopped at the top of the stairs on the landing outside my door. I turned to face him.
“I guess so.” I batted my eyelashes at him innocently. “I usually let my date kiss me on the second date,” I added with a grin.
“You don’t say?” Nash looked me, a hungry glint in his eye. He leaned in and crooked a finger under my chin, tipping my head up. “I wouldn’t want to disappoint you then.” He brought his lips to mine. I leaned into the kiss, our lips the only part of our bodies touching. When he pulled away, I let out a little sound of protest and I stumbled forward a step. Nash grabbed my shoulders, steadying me on my feet. “Easy there, minx,” he said with a laugh. He looked down at me, his face quickly becoming concerned. “Harry?”
