by J. J. McAvoy
I stepped over to the window to look over the yard. It was easy to find my parents. I just had to find one of them, and the other was close by.
Yep. I thought when I saw my dad place his arms around my mother’s waist. She pretended to pull away, but he held on tighter and like always, she let him hold her.
“Calliope Affini,” I whispered to myself. But in my mind I said her name as Calliope Callahan, just to see how it sounded.
It didn’t sound weird.
Chapter 2
“I will find my way to you in the next life
And every life after that.”
* * *
~Mia Hollow
ETHAN - AGE 23
Bogotá, Colombia
Saturday, June 23rd
“The Nacional burned down three of our fields last night and seized two tons,” Tobias muttered, laying the newspapers out in front of me.
“And President Rojas hasn’t taken a victory photo yet? I’m shocked.” I sipped my coffee.
“I’m sure there will be a press conference and handshakes this morning and photos in the paper before lunch is even over.” He gazed around the restaurant, stepping away from my table to inspect the street outside. “You have a seven-acre villa, staffed with two different chefs who’d gladly cook for you, any type of eggs you want, yet you insist on this random hole in the wall.”
“I prefer not to delude myself into thinking I’m safe.” I didn’t buy the damn villa to hide within it. A man who leads from behind a fortress doesn’t live long and has no one’s respect. I needed them to see me. Even if they were just rumors—
“Sorry, mami, off limits, no vayas, go back down, abajo.” The guards at the top of the stairs point down past whoever was there.
Just as I moved to grab the newspaper, I heard her voice.
“First of all, I am not your mami. Secondly, your pronunciation is terrible. No vayas. Abajo.” She pronounced it slowly for him like he was an idiot, causing more than a few of the other guards to grin.
“Whatever. Get your ass back down. This place is reserved for now.” He sneered at her and I noticed his eyes glaze over a little, despite his effort be annoyed.
She sighed heavily. “I’m sure you’re not the brains of the operation up here are you, careverga?”
He stepped up. “What did you just call me—”
“Is there a problem here?” Tobias boomed, and the previously inattentive guards stiffened and drew their guns as the mystery woman approached.
Taking in the scene around her, she pulled on the badge attached to her yellow V-neck shirt, displaying her identification. “I’m the cook, unless you all came here to not eat. In that case I’ll make sure María Paula charges you by the minute.”
Tobias looked back at me and I nodded my assent. He stepped out of the way, allowing me to see her clearly, and it didn’t take a genius to see why they were all looking at her as if they were animals. Their eyes roamed the curves of her body, and she didn’t discourage it with the ripped jean shorts she wore that exposed her toned legs and hugged the curve of her ass. Her crop top also showcased her smooth stomach. Her dark brown hair was tied in a messy bun.
“Boss man, can you hurry up and get to my face so I can take your order?” she requested, pen and notepad in hand. At that I looked at her face to find to grey eyes staring back me with irritation, despite the fact she had the fakest smile directed at me.
“Where is María Paula?”
“Sorry, sir. That is not on the menu. Would you like me to recommend something, or do you need more time?” she asked politely, though nothing in her demeanor seemed to convey the same message.
“I do not like repeating my questions.”
“Who does?” she asked blankly. “I assure you, a waitress who spent all night cleaning this damn place believing she’d have the weekend off, only to be called back in at the crack of dawn to make breakfast for a kingpin, a cartel, the mafia, a rich, selfish American, or whatever you are, also does not like repeating her questions. She also doesn’t like being asked questions not related to making breakfast because that could end her life, and oh yeah, she doesn’t like the men-pigs staring at her ass behind her. But what can she do except happily take your order?”
Again, she offered her fake smile.
“She could wear longer, looser shorts if she doesn’t like the attention,” I replied, thoroughly amused at how annoyed she was.
“She could.” She nodded to me as if I was being an idiot. “However, she doesn’t want to forsake her love of wearing whatever the fuck she wants to wear because of pigs. Besides, it’s their balls that are in pain not, mine. So, third time, your order please?”
“At this point I don’t think I trust you to boil water for me,” I said and she inhaled slowly, obviously trying to calm herself. When she exhaled, she pulled out the chair across from me and took a seat. “Excuse you?”
“The shop doesn’t open for another two hours, so I’m going to rest here until you muster up the trust in your order or you leave,” she challenged. “Oh, right, you must have important business talk about with your goons. Don’t mind me, I won’t listen to a thing. Kick my foot if you need me.”
She reached into her into the apron around her waist pulling out her smartphone. She put her earbuds in, and whatever the hell she was listening to was so damn loud the earbuds were almost pointless.
She sat there completely ignoring me and smiling, a real smile at whatever the hell she was watching. I looked over to the men and when I did, they all looked away.
Well, this was new.
Lifting the newspaper, I read quietly.
I’m not sure how much time passed.
But before I realized it, I’d finished the paper and Tobias was next to me. “Boss, it’s time.”
I rose from my chair and realized she was sleeping, using her arm as pillow.
Placing a few bills on the table, I lifted my chin, silently ordering them to leave.
* * *
Sunday, June 24th
She stomped up the stairs this time dressed in a white lace skirt and floral strapless blouse. My men gave her a wide berth as she came to my table. “It is the day of rest! The Lord’s day! We are closed.”
“You really have no fear for your life, do you?”
“We all die someday, don’t we?” she deflected, reaching into her bag and pulling out the money I left on the table for her. “And this? Don’t do this! This is how men like you confuse women.”
“Excuse me?”
Sighing, she took a seat across from me. “Rich, powerful, and dangerous man walks into a small restaurant. Beautiful waitress—”
“That’s you?” I questioned.
“Do you see any other waitress?” She pursed her lips, waving her hands, gesturing around the diner. “No, you don’t. Why? Because most them got caught up with men like you.”
“Men like me? Rich, powerful, and dangerous men?”
She nodded and went on. “You go to restaurants flashing your money and fancy cars. You hit on the hottest waitress. You all really do love a woman that has to attend to you. I think it might be the whole waiting ‘on your every damn desire’ that gets your mans up. You come often, leave large tips, say nice things, the beautiful waitress thinks she’s found her knight in shining armor, next thing you know she’s either drugged out, pimped out, or just out…dead, sometimes just lying on the corner of the street.”
Interesting. “You also think very highly of yourself—”
“Abso-fucking-lutely,” she sang proudly. “If I don’t think highly of myself why the hell would anyone else? Don’t you think highly of yourself?”
My eyebrow rose at that question. “Do we look like we are on the same level?”
She looked around the diner and then out the window and said, “We are on the same level, in the same building, at the same table, at the same time. What makes you think I’m not on your level? I’m beautiful—”
“You’ve call
ed yourself beautiful three times now—”
“Proverbs 8:7. For my mouth will utter truth; and wickedness is an abomination to my lips,” she shot back quickly. “I am beautiful. I am intelligent, hardworking, and passionate in everything I do. Are you? What makes me different than you? Money? How do you know I don’t have all that I need already? Is it your goon squad? I can say with almost certainty I’m a much better shot then they are… and I do it in heels.”
She put the money back on the table, sliding it over to me.
“I don’t need a knight in shining armor. I don’t want a knight in shining armor. I save myself. Always have, always will.”
“Perfectly acceptable,” I responded, lifting the money off the table. “I would never have even put the money down had you not said, and I quote, ‘I’ll make sure María Paula charges you by the minute.’ I was paying per your request, not because I have any interest in you, you’re a dime a dozen in these parts. I’m ready to make my order now,” I sneered, handing her the menu.
She glared at me, rising from her seat. “Brilliant. Give it to me tomorrow. When. We. Are. Open. If you’re very hungry…since I am dime a dozen in these parts, I’m sure someone else would love your company. Who, I’m not sure, but everybody has somebody. Peace be with you.”
She made sign of the cross over me before turning on her heels and marching back down the stairs.
I looked Tobias, who was biting back a smile. “Is something funny?”
“Not at all.”
“I didn’t think so.”
Why the hell did she bother me and amuse me so much?
* * *
Monday, June 25th
When I arrived at the restaurant the whole place smelled sweet. Walking up the stairs, I saw her behind the counter, a bandana over her hair and clear gloves on her hands rolling out dough. She didn’t look up at us as we arrived, and it didn’t seem to be out of spite, but because she was focused. Moving from the dough, she dusted her hands on her apron, grabbed mitts for her hands and took the meat from the oven. Tossing the meat to the side, she pulled out two cleavers, spinning them in her hands. In a swift motion she speared the meat from the bone. A real smile appeared on lips as she hacked the meat into small pieces.
Sitting in my seat in the corner chair, I pretended not to notice or care, completely unaffected, but I was annoyed something else had occupied her attention and yet strangely amused she had so much fun hacking up meat. It was then her voice came back to mind.
“I’m passionate about everything I do. Are you?”
Easy for her to say. She didn’t have complicated life. She woke up every day, cooked and cleaned and went back home happily.
Tobias and I spoke quietly, and I was about to start writing out new plans when a plate of empanadas and a bowl of something I didn’t recognize was placed in front of me. I looked up at her and she shrugged, saying, “You didn’t order it, so it’s on the house. We don’t want to cheat you out of your millions. It’s empanadas and a bowl of Arroz atollado.”
I stared at it again not really sure what she was getting at.
“Seriously?” she questioned. Taking the spoon off the tray, she took a scoop full of the Arroz atollado and ate. “It’s not poisoned.”
“I didn’t think it was.” However, for her to think that made me wonder. “Exactly how many men like me do you meet?”
“This is a very personal question. Are we close enough to have this conversation?” She shot back, and I wasn’t sure what face I made, but she laughed, taking the seat across from me again. “Men like you? I don’t think there are very many men like you. If you are talking about what I think you’re talking about I’d say…I’ve had a few unfortunate encounters. It’s one of the downsides to being so damn gorgeous.”
That told me nothing, and I’m sure that was the point. “And yet you still walk around town and go about all by yourself, Cordelia. You seem like you enjoy flirting with danger.”
Her lips turned up,“You’ve been spying on me? No, I doubt it was you personally; that’s beneath a man such as yourself. Well, what did your spy find out?”
With her elbows on the table she rested her head in her palms.
“Most people would be annoyed if they found out they were being spied on,” I said, taking the spoon from her hand and sampling a bite of the food myself, partly hoping it tasted horrible, so I could make fun of her…it didn’t. The fact that I wanted it to was annoying…it meant I was childish.
“Good, isn’t it? What can I say, I’m magic.” She winked at me, and if an award could be given for vanity she’d win in spades.
“Cordelia Muñoz. You live in a rundown one-bedroom apartment uptown, you spend most of your time volunteering at Saint Catherine of Siena elementary school down on the east side. You go to mass twice a week, Wednesdays and Sundays, and stay afterward to help make sandwiches for the homeless, as well as clean. When you aren’t being a saint you enjoy going to the movies or taking photos in the city square.”
“Does it sound boring to you?” She smiled like she knew something I didn’t.
“Exponentially so,” I replied, breaking the empanada in half and taking a bite. It was even sweeter than the rice bowl.
“But?” She took the other half from my hand and ate it. I looked to her skeptically. She only nodded. “You sounded like you wanted to say that but were overwhelmed by the slice of heaven I put between your lips and forgot. So I’m moving the conversation forward. The life of Cordelia Muñoz is exponentially boring to you but…”
There it was…that twinge of annoyance and amusement again. I pushed it to the side. “I wonder why someone who lives like an angel enjoys sitting with a man who is the very opposite of that.”
“First of all, did I say I was enjoying this? Don’t put words in my mouth. Secondly,” she leaned in and whispered, “maybe I’m a fallen angel trying to find my way to the light and you keep distracting me.”
She laughed at her own little joke and took another bite, licking her lips.
“I also found out a few cartel members have tried to claim you—”
“Rape me,” she clarified, licking her thumb. “We’re big boys and girls. Let’s not sugar coat our words.”
“I wasn’t trying to.” I just didn’t know it was that severe. “My spies apparently didn’t share that distinction.”
“You have shitty spies; don’t they know the devil is in the details?” she asked, reaching for my spoon again.
“Is this for me or for you?” I questioned.
She giggled and looked like a kid caught with her hand in a cookie jar. “I’m just making sure you have no doubt in your mind that this food is safe to eat.”
“Why, thank you for your concern,” I replied, pulling the spoon back. “But I think I can manage.”
“Fine. Enjoy.” She frowned and leaned back. “Anyway, I’m not saying you can or would, but there is no reason for you to get involved with those animals.”
“Is it even possible for me to do so? If I wanted to? For some strange reason, all of the men seem to either be missing or end up in the hospital with some tragic condition,” I finished, taking another bite.
“Even fallen angels have guardian angels,” she said softly and deeply in a tone of voice that sounded both sinister and sexy. She crossed her arms and the look in her eyes got darker. “It seems like the life of Cordelia Muñoz, is getting more interesting to you now. Is she a serial killer? Angel by day, feeding the homeless and helping the needy. And then a devil by night murdering gangsters and thugs. She pulls them in with her tight clothes, then feeds them, who knows, maybe even sleeps with them and WHAM! They don’t know what hit them. Take care boss man, you could be her next victim.”
The corner of her lip twitched up as she looked to me. And I couldn’t help it; I laughed, shaking my head at her.
“What, you don’t think I’m capable of it?” she said, amused with herself.
“No, I do. For some same strange reason, I
believe you’re very capable of that.” I reached for the glass of water. “I just don’t think you’d be stupid enough to let them all trace back to you. Which makes me also think that Cordelia Muñoz may be fake.”
“Fake? That’s hurtful. Have you ever thought that maybe no one has ever put all the links together, like you, so maybe you’re just smarter than the average man and I didn’t account for that? Oops.”
“Possible. But still I don’t believe those are you. Maybe one of them. Two at most. But not all of them.”
“Is it me who’s flirting with danger, or you?” she asked, resting her cheek on her palm again.
“We both are. However,” and this part she needed to understand, “You’re the one at greater risk.”
“You really want to fight with me, don’t you?”
“I want to do a lot of things to you,” I admitted.
Again, she leaned in closer, licking her pink lips before saying, “You aren’t the only one. So why should I make you a priority?”
“Because you already have. Or do you wake up two hours before opening every day for just anyone?” I asked, brushing a strand of hair back from her face.
She hung her head and chuckled softly to herself. “You’re right. I’m attracted to you…danger and all. But I’m a very jealous, conniving, possessive, and unforgiving person.”
“So?”
“So, I need one day.” She sat back in the chair. “Where your attention is on me and only me. So I can fuck you out of my system and not feel like the poor girl you jilted afterward.”
“Only one day?” I clarified.
“One full day.” She rubbed her foot against my thigh, her toes brushing against my cock. “Nothing more, nothing less.”
“Then my villa is—”
“No.” She interrupted me. “You want to fuck me up and down your private villa and escort me out afterwards? No thank you. Find a hotel that is up to your standards and book for the day. That way whoever wakes up first can leave. Unless you’re scared you’re not going to be safe and I’m leading you into a trap.”