by I. T. Lucas
“Good morning, Nathalie.” Bhathian offered his hand.
She placed her small palm in his large one, but her eyes were trained on Andrew. “So, how did the guys in the office enjoy my croissants?”
As Bhathian held on to her hand, she made no move to pull it away. It didn’t seem to bother her.
“Everything was devoured in minutes. I’m telling you, hearing all those groans of pleasure, someone standing outside the room would’ve gotten a very wrong impression—considering that they were all male.”
She laughed. “Really? Or are you just saying it to make me feel good?”
Bhathian put his free hand over his heart. “I swear.”
She tilted her head. “Is it true, Andrew?”
“I wasn’t there, but it sounds right. Piranhas, that’s what those guys are. And your croissants are out of this world.”
She blushed. “Thank you, it’s so sweet of you to say so.”
“It’s the honest to God truth.” Andrew put his hand over his heart as well.
Nathalie giggled. “You guys look like you’re ready to recite the National Anthem.”
He winked. “Perhaps we should compose one in honor of your baked goods.”
She slapped his arm. “Oh, you guys.”
Nathalie looked so pleased that Andrew wanted to say more, but it would have been too much, and besides, he would’ve just ruined the effect, sounding insincere. He needed to gather more material.
“It looks like you’re busy this morning, do you think you can find us a booth?”
She looked back, appraising her customers. “Give me a minute. Mrs. Goldberg over there is a schoolteacher, and she’s already running late. I’m going to give her a nudge.”
Nathalie hurried back and stopped by the second booth to the right, bending at the waist to say something to the occupant, who must’ve been Mrs. Goldberg. It was hard to tell who was sitting behind the newspaper.
“Oh, dear,” Mrs. Goldberg exclaimed, folding her paper and stuffing it into her large satchel. “Thank you for telling me. I was so absorbed in this article that I didn’t notice time fly. I must run.” She scooted out of the booth and kissed Nathalie on the cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow, dear.”
“Goodbye, Mrs. Goldberg,” Nathalie called after her, then quickly collected whatever was left over from the woman’s breakfast. Next, she produced a rag from her apron’s pocket and wiped the table.
“Here you go, all ready.”
“Thank you.” Bhathian chose the seat Mrs. Goldberg had vacated, and Andrew took the one across from him.
“What would you like? Same as yesterday?” she asked.
“Yes. Coffee for both of us, and whatever pastries you think we should try.”
“Perfect.” She beamed. “You are my kind of customers. I’ll be back as soon as I can with your order.”
On her way back, Nathalie collected dishes from another booth, piling one thing on top of the other in a precarious heap while doing acrobatics with the rag to wipe the table without disturbing its balance.
“She works too hard.” Bhathian frowned.
“Yeah, I wonder why she doesn’t have help. She obviously needs it.”
“And to think that she has already put in several hours of work to bake everything.”
“I’ll ask her when she comes back with our order.”
Bhathian nodded and pulled out his phone.
“Are you going to call someone?”
“No, just checking the schedule of my classes.”
“What are you studying?”
“Teaching.”
“What?” It was hard to imagine the guy teaching anything. With the exception of combat fighting, that is.
Bhathian shifted in his seat. “Sex education to our young men.”
Andrew couldn’t help a snort. “You? Of all people? Why?”
The guy’s lip twitched. “Why do you think? To scare the shit out of them, of course. After a class with me, the ramifications of inappropriate behavior are very clear.”
“I bet, and I guess it’s not about the birds and bees kind of class.”
“I have no idea what birds and insects you’re talking about, but the class is about consent and gentlemanly conduct.”
“Okay… Is this a problem for you guys?”
Bhathian smirked. “Not anymore. But what surprised me was that the kids asked for one more class. I think it’s a lark.”
Might be. Or a bet between the guys to see who would have the guts to ask the ogre for one more. “What will you do if it is?”
“I’ll think of something to get back at them. Perhaps force them to attend my next gig. I’m going to teach a self-defense class. Since we’ve started with them, the demand has been steadily increasing, and Kian asked me to join the effort.”
“Here are your coffees, guys, and I brought an assortment for you to try.” Balancing the tray on her hip, Nathalie pointed a finger at the plate. “There will be a test later. Make sure you’re prepared.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Bhathian saluted.
Andrew glanced at the tray she was holding. After unloading their order, the thing still held two cups of coffee and a teapot, as well as three sandwiches and two plates of pastries. “Can I ask you a question, Nathalie?”
She looked uncomfortable but nodded anyway. “Sure.”
“How come you have no help here? The place looks like it’s doing well, you shouldn’t be doing everything by yourself.”
Nathalie sighed. “This tray weighs a ton. Let me just deliver these and I’ll come back and tell you.”
Glancing at his watch after she’d left, Andrew realized that it had taken longer than he’d anticipated for their order to arrive, and if he stayed to talk to Nathalie, he would be late for work.
“You have to leave?” Bhathian asked.
“I should, but I won’t. I need to find out what’s going on. Given her heavy sigh, there is a story here.”
“Yeah, my thoughts exactly.”
Chapter 20: Nathalie
Once she’d delivered everything on her tray, Nathalie put it on top of the counter. It was a quarter to nine, and since most of her morning customers had already been served, she expected to have a quiet hour or so before the next wave started at around ten o’clock.
Perhaps she could even sit down with Andrew and Bhathian while telling them about Tiffany. After all, yesterday, they had all but admitted to being some secret branch of law enforcement. They might be able to help her.
Yeah, right. As if this was the only motivation to sit down next to Andrew. Thank God, Tut hadn’t come back yet. Maybe she’d be able to flirt a little.
And why would you? The voice in her head was her own.
As a soft sigh escaped her lips, Nathalie let her head drop. She might be able to have a little chat with Andrew, nothing else. Working as she did from four in the morning until eight in the evening, she was in bed by nine-thirty. Not a schedule that allowed for any social activity. And even during the little time she wasn’t working, she wasn’t free either. Her father needed constant supervision.
Before Tiffany’s disappearance, she’d used to leave the girl in charge and take a nap after the lunch crowd had come and gone. It had allowed her to stay open later. Sometimes, she’d even run out to take care of an errand while Tiffany had kept an eye on her father.
Now, Nathalie had reworked her schedule so she could do everything by herself.
Her only day off was Saturday, and she used it to go to the bank and purchase supplies for the coming week. God knew that doing it while dragging her father along was a nightmare. But what choice did she have?
It wasn’t as if she could call a babysitter for him.
There were the adult daycare facilities she could use in case of emergency—leave him there for a couple of hours. But it would be too confusing and disturbing for him, and she was afraid of doing anything that might worsen his condition.
It was ironic, she thought as she walk
ed over to Andrew’s table, despite being surrounded by people all day long, she felt like a hermit.
“You mind if I sit next to you?” she asked Bhathian.
“Sure.” He scooted to make room for her, trying to push his bulk into the corner but still taking up most of the space on the bench. And yet, sitting so close to him that their thighs were touching felt surprisingly comfortable—the way she imagined sitting next to a brother would’ve felt if she had one.
On the other hand, she knew that the same proximity to Andrew would’ve been electrifying, even without the touching—too intense to handle. She couldn’t remember having ever been so attracted to a guy.
It was better like this, sitting across from him allowed her to see his face, look into his beautiful eyes…
“I had a waitress,” she began. “Tiffany, and things were much easier with her around. But less than a month ago she disappeared. At first, I thought she was flaking out on me. She was always on the lookout for auditions, and I was sure that she was skipping work to go on some. She dreamed of a career in movies. Later, when she still didn’t show up, I thought that maybe she managed to score a small role. But as I kept calling and calling and she never answered I began worrying. I even tried calling from someone else’s phone in case she was ignoring my calls on purpose, but she still didn’t answer.”
“Did you call the police? Maybe something has happened to her,” Andrew offered.
Nathalie grimaced. “I didn’t.”
“Because you’re not family?”
“No, that wasn’t the reason. I was afraid they’d think I had something to do with it.”
“Why on earth would they think that?”
“Because a few years ago my mother went missing and I filed a report with the police. What are the chances of two unrelated people disappearing on the same person?” She arched a brow and raised her hand, holding two fingers up. “I’m like a black hole or a freaking Bermuda Triangle.”
Andrew seemed to contemplate the information she’d just shared, his brows taking a dip. “Perhaps I can help you with that.”
Nathalie sighed. “I was hoping you would. Being a detective… or something like that.”
He smiled. “Something like that. I’ll look into it, but I need some more information about Tiffany.”
“Sure, anything I can do. I have her address…” Nathalie lowered her eyes. “But going to check on her with my father in tow would have been extremely difficult. He has dementia, and I can’t leave him alone even for a minute.”
Bhathian patted her hand. “Is he the older gentleman that was sitting here last evening?” He pointed to the booth Fernando had occupied.
“Yes. He is upstairs now, still sleeping. He had an episode earlier, his hallucinations turned violent, and he was shouting, scaring off the customers. I had no choice but to give him a mild sedative so he could sleep. Hopefully, when he wakes up, he’ll be better.”
Andrew shook his head. “You don’t have it easy, do you, Nathalie?”
“Nope. But I deal. I just need to find someone to help me out here. Someone cheap and part time because I can’t afford more than that. I should’ve put a help-wanted sign in the window after the first couple of days, but I was hoping that she’d show up. Looking for someone to replace Tiffany felt like admitting that I’ve given up. I should, though, it’s pointless to wait any longer, hoping for a miracle that is not going to happen.”
“I’ll try to find you someone,” Bhathian said with another pat on her hand.
“You know someone who is willing to work mostly for tips?”
“I’ll ask around.”
A good feeling flitted through her, raising her spirits and lifting some of the weight that had been sitting on her shoulders since settling there the day her father had been diagnosed. She hadn’t felt this particular sensation for so long that it took her a second or two to comprehend it.
By offering to help her, these two men made her feel like she wasn’t alone in the world. The last two years had been the most difficult. With her father’s condition worsening to the point where she’d been forced to shoulder the entire operation because he’d become more of a hindrance than help in the kitchen, it had taken all she had just to keep afloat while dragging him behind.
She wouldn’t admit it, not even to herself, but she was exhausted, physically and mentally. Was it a wonder then that she’d clung to the first shard of hope she’d been offered?
So it might have been silly, assigning so much importance to Bhathian and Andrew’s offer of help. After all, they were just a couple of kind strangers. And yet, the hope they had given her was precious. No one had done it for her before.
“Thank you.” She covered Bhathian’s hand with hers, closing her fingers in a light squeeze. “I welcome any help I can get.”
Chapter 21: Anandur
“Ahoy! Anybody out there?” Anandur switched the bucket of sudsy water to his other hand and reached back for the rag that was hanging out his shorts’ ass pocket to wipe the sweat off his forehead.
For his disguise, he’d cut off the legs of an old pair of jeans, putting them through a couple of wash and dry cycles to produce the frayed effect. Unfortunately, he wasn’t all that good with scissors, and the result of his repeated attempts to get both sides to the same length was that the inside pockets were sticking from below what was a ridiculously short pair of shorts.
It was all good, though, his muscular thighs were getting a lot of attention, as was his bare chest. The shirt he had on was a short-sleeved button-down—left unbuttoned, and the gentle breeze was doing an excellent job of blowing the light fabric away from his body for maximum exposure.
He’d just finished spiffing the deck of a yacht that hadn’t really needed cleaning, his physique delighting its two female occupants whose husbands had been conveniently absent. Now that his assumed occupation had been established, he was ready to take on the infamous crew of the Anna.
“Hello!” Anandur called out again.
A dark-haired, muscular woman walked over to the railing of the upper deck and leaned down, appraising him with a pair of suspicious gray eyes. “What do you want?”
He flashed her one of his well-practiced charming smiles and lifted the bucket. “Do you need a deck boy? I work cheap.”
“No.” Apparently not in a hurry to get back inside, she kept checking him out, fleshy lips pursed in disapproval.
A leggy blonde, just as muscular, joined the brunette at the railing and gave him an unabashed once-over before asking, “How much?”
“Fifty bucks for all exterior decks, two hundred for everything.”
The blonde raised a brow and smirked. “Everything?”
He winked. “Everything.”
A hushed back-and-forth in Russian ensued, which, unfortunately, he didn’t understand. A big disadvantage for someone who was supposed to spy on a bunch of Russians. On the other hand, he had no problem reading their body language and hand gestures.
The brunette, who he assumed was the captain, Geneva, was shaking her head from side to side, while the blonde, who must’ve been the bitchy Lana, was trying to convince her boss to hire him. With her hungry eyes flicking over to his body every other word, he had a good idea why she was being so adamant, and helped out by flexing whatever he could without striking a pose.
Lana was practically drooling.
Perhaps he should rethink his strategy, and instead of trying to seduce the captain, who looked like a particularly tough cookie, or Marta, who was quite homely according to Amanda, he could go after Lana. The woman was easy on the eyes, and he had no problem with bitches. After all, sometimes all that was needed to cure this nasty, female affliction was a good shag or two.
The doctor is in the house, sweetheart, Anandur smirked, and he has all the medicine you need right here. He swiveled his hips suggestively, just in time for Lana to catch the move.
The arguing intensified and finally it seemed that the captain was capitul
ating.
Lana leaned over the railing, her large breasts resting on her crossed arms. “Hundred fifty, no more.”
“Throw in a couple of beers and lunch, and you got yourself a deal.”
“How about vodka and steak?”
He raised two fingers, then added one more. “Make it three. Do I look like a guy who can be satisfied with only one piece of meat?”
Lana laughed, a throaty, sexy sound. The corners of Geneva’s lips lifted a little.
“Half bottle vodka, three steaks, one hundred and fifty dollars.” Lana spelled out the conditions of the deal.
Anandur gave her the thumbs up.
“Okay, deck boy, you have permission to come aboard,” Geneva pressed a button on a remote, extending the hydraulic side boarding stairs.
“Thanks.” Anandur saluted. He waited until the staircase locked in place, then bounded up, careful to keep his bucket level.
“Where are you going so fast?” Geneva stopped him. “Start with the stairs. They need a good scrubbing.”
“Yes, ma’am!” He turned around and started from the bottom.
“Fucking hell, I really hate cleaning,” Anandur murmured as he pulled out a scrubbing brush from his bucket.
There was a little dirt trapped between the furrows of the rubberized runner covering the teakwood stairs, and he carefully scrubbed each step before going in reverse up to the next one.
All along, Lana, who’d taken a seat on one of the lounges on the lower deck, was watching his ass. Which was good for his ego, but prevented him from planting William’s tiny listening device.
“Like what you see?” He glanced back.
“Da, you work body good.”
What did she mean by that? He cast her a quizzical glance.
She mimed holding a bar and doing a chest press. “How long each day you work gymnasium?”
Aha, okay, now I get it.
“Weight lifting and other muscle work, two hours each morning. And if I have someone to spar with, I can put in a couple more.”
That piqued her interest, and she sat up straight. “What you spar? Wrestling? Judo?”
