by Evie Nichole
Perhaps this thought was what made his feet start walking in the direction of the coffee shop. He could not be sure that she would be there. He rarely went into the shop at the same time each day. He’d not seen her since that day at the beginning of the week when he had stopped in at nine in the morning.
It didn’t matter. Cisco walked the block and a half to the coffee shop. The plate glass of the front door was cool beneath his palms. It was quiet in here at four thirty on a Friday afternoon. In fact, Cisco was the only one in the shop. He walked right up to the counter and tried to decide what he needed from a coffee café at this time in the afternoon.
“You’re back.”
Cisco drew back. He had come here looking for Melody, and yet now that he was face to face with her, he had no idea what to say. “I wanted to try something different.”
Try something different? What was his problem? Sometimes Cisco wondered if his brain was simply incapable of conversing appropriately in real-life situations. It seemed to be fine in the courtroom. He just could not behave appropriately in normal everyday situations.
There were lines bracketing Melody’s green eyes and her cupid’s bow mouth. She looked tired. Yet, at the moment, he saw a smile spread across her features. It started with her lips. They turned up just a hint at the corners. Then her eyes brightened. There was a sparkle in them that replaced the dullness of apparent exhaustion. Then her cheeks grew fuller as her face relaxed into a very beautiful and almost impish grin.
“Something different, hmm?” Melody made a point of tapping her lower lip with her index finger in an exaggerated look of deep thought. “Do you trust me?”
It was an interesting thought. Perhaps it was an inane comment on her part. It was impossible for him to tell. He didn’t know her well enough for that. Yet the truth was that Cisco did not trust lightly. He did not offer that sort of confidence in anyone. Somehow, though, Melody’s basic down-to-earth personality changed things for him.
“I trust you,” he told her quietly. “Just remember that trust is a delicate thing.”
“So it is,” she murmured as she rang him up.
Cisco paid for his five dollar experimental drink and then stood by the bar as Melody moved to make his order. She seemed to be by herself inside the coffee shop. It seemed to be a strange sort of plan to have an employee here by herself at any point during the day.
“Are you here all by yourself?” He could not resist asking.
She glanced up from the concoction she was making. The drink seemed to require ice and coffee and other ingredients he could not name. “No. Not exactly. The manager is in the back running her daily paperwork. She could come out here and help”—Melody glanced up at him and offered what looked like a smirk—“hypothetically of course.”
“Of course.” He was starting to get the picture. “And this is more cost-effective anyway.”
“Exactly.” She sighed and finished his drink off with a huge dollop of whipped cream. “And since the bottom line is the only thing that really matters in business, here I am.”
“Is it very busy this time of day?” There was still nobody in here but him.
“No.” She shook her head and began to clean the countertop in front of her after setting his drink on the bar. “This is pretty much when we do clean-up for the day. We actually close at six, so this is pretty much it for us.”
“How long are your shifts?” He had no idea why this topic was of such interest to him. It was so different from what he was used to. He realized he had never had this kind of job or schedule or anything even close to work hours that were dependent upon anything but his own whim.
“I’ve been here since four this morning.” She glanced up at him and then quickly looked away. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this stuff. It doesn’t really matter.”
“Sure it does.”
“No. It doesn’t.” She pulled a very ugly face. “And it certainly doesn’t matter to some rich lawyer.”
“Do you hold that against me?” It was funny, but it bothered Cisco to think that Melody did hold it against him that he was a lawyer or anything else. She didn’t know him. She didn’t know what his life was like. She didn’t know what it was like to walk in his shoes. Maybe it didn’t matter. Maybe it did.
She seemed to consider this. Her counter-scrubbing gradually came to a halt. She was standing there with both palms braced on the countertop and a very strange expression on her face. “It’s hard not to resent someone who wears expensive clothes and can wander into a coffee shop at four thirty in the afternoon. I’ve seen you in an elevator in the middle of the afternoon. You were in here in the middle of the morning…”
He almost protested that assertion about that last trip in to get coffee being midmorning. That had been first thing—for him.
Then Melody shrugged. “But I suppose you made different choices than I did. You went to college. You got a degree. You probably make wise financial decisions too. I don’t. Why should you be punished or judged because I’ve made a mess of my life?” Her voice grew soft, and he felt as though she were judging herself more harshly than he ever would have.
“Hang on,” he protested. “You can’t be so hard on yourself. I’m pretty sure that you didn’t start out with a silver spoon shoved into your mouth.”
“Did you?” she shot back.
Cisco gazed at the stubborn jut of her chin. This was a woman who would not apologize for anything. She had a chip on her shoulder, and she was the polar opposite of everything he was looking for in a potential life partner. Still, she fascinated him and he could not say why.
“I would say that the silver spoon was probably shoved down my throat.” He thought about his father’s constant interference in his life. “After that, the silver spoon is periodically removed from my throat only long enough to beat me over the head with it until I submit to whatever plans my family have in mind for me.”
“Having family would be wonderful.” Her softly spoken words were accompanied by a look so sad that it tugged at Cisco’s heart and made him feel things he hadn’t thought possible.
“You don’t have family?” He felt as though that was an impossibility of sorts. People usually had family. They were just estranged either through their choice or their family’s choice. “Surely you have somebody.”
It was as though she were pulling on some kind of emotional armor. He watched her straighten. Her spine stiffened and her expression hardened. Then she cleared her throat and went back to scrubbing her counter. “Actually, I was placed in state custody when I was born. My biological mother was very sick. Her parents were elderly and unable to care for me. She had nobody else and was an only child. I don’t know anything about my biological father. She never named him.”
Now Cisco felt like an ass. He thought he had problems. But he didn’t. This woman was most definitely alone. “I’m sorry, Melody. I really am.”
“That’s all right.” She exhaled, and he realized that she was now studying the brewing machine she had started to clean. It was as if she were deliberately trying not to make eye contact. “I was luckier than most. My mother’s grandparents passed away and left everything to me in their will.”
“So, there’s your silver spoon, hmm?” He was half joking.
“Sure.” The false brightness in her tone set off warning bells in his head. “All except the inheritance tax part. But I’m sure I’ll get that figured out soon enough.”
“So, this is recent?” Cisco felt a tug. This was something he understood very well. “Did they leave you real estate property or just random household items?”
“Both?” She seemed to sort of fold in on herself. “It’s difficult to say.”
“Why?” Cisco frowned. This should not have been difficult. “There should have been a list of contents in the house after the death was established. It’s part of the process. You just go in and make a list of contents. The estate is assigned a worth unless it had one assigned to it by some other ki
nd of entity, like an attorney or even a trust.”
“There might be one.” She turned her back to him and started furiously wiping down the counter on the back side of the prep area. “It’s hard to say. I can’t understand the attorney’s scribbles very well. But I’ll figure it out.”
Cisco should have walked away. He had a melting frozen coffee drink in his hand, and he should have walked away. There was a social gala to prepare for. There was a new job to figure out, and his father’s interference needed handling. Yet Cisco could not turn his back on what was happening right here in front of him.
“Would you like help?” Cisco asked carefully. “I’d be happy to at least look at the file from your grandparents’ estate attorney. Sometimes these things can be confusing. Lawyers aren’t exactly famous for doing things in a straightforward manner.”
“That’s true enough,” she muttered.
He watched Melody stop moving and put her hands on her hips. Then she seemed to look up at the ceiling. Her shoulders rose and fell with the deep breaths she was obviously taking as she attempted to decide if she wanted his help or not. Finally, she turned around to face him. Her lips were thinned into a tight line. Her eyes were huge in her face, and she looked both hopeful and belligerent.
“Would you really be willing to look at the file for me?” Her words were a bare whisper.
“Yes.” He didn’t even have to think about it. “Yes. I would be willing to do that.”
“What about after I get off work tonight?”
Dammit. Of all the times for him to have a social engagement, it had to be tonight. He swallowed back his apprehension. “I can’t tonight. How about tomorrow night?”
Something on her face flickered. “If you don’t want to, don’t feel like you have to.”
“It isn’t that, Melody.” Cisco didn’t appreciate her insinuation. “I simply have plans tonight. It’s a social engagement. Unfortunately, my father has made it so I have to attend. It’s one of his specialties. Screwing up my plans and forcing me to do what he thinks I should do.”
She was staring at him with her solemn green gaze as though she were trying to see the truth or fiction in his words. Finally, she gave a slow nod. “All right, then. Tomorrow. Meet me here at six o’clock.”
“It’s a date,” Cisco agreed.
He realized too late that his choice of words was probably entirely inappropriate, but she didn’t seem to read into it at all. Instead, she gestured to his drink and gave a little wave.
Cisco took a long sip of the frozen concoction and realized that it was good. Very good. There was just enough sweet to go with the bitterness. In fact, he could well see why people were constantly ordering these frou frou frozen drinks all the time. He lifted the cup to let Melody know that it was good, and then he exited the coffee shop with a whole lot more spring in his step than he’d had when he went in.
Chapter Five
Melody should have been ecstatic. She had managed to get a bona fide lawyer to agree to look at the mess with her grandparents’ estate for free. At least she assumed this would be for free. He hadn’t said anything about her hiring him. There had been no talk of money. And honestly, Melody had gotten the vibe that he was doing this more of a favor to a friend as anything else.
“Aren’t you done yet?”
Melody looked up to find Janice—the store manager—standing in the walkthrough between the back and the front of the shop. Janice had her hands firmly lodged on her hips, and she was glaring at Melody. “We close in ten minutes.”
That was news to Melody, but since Cisco had been her last customer of the night, she had been rather distracted since he left almost forty-five minutes ago. However, she had been doing all of her closing duties just like usual, so she figured it was rather unkind of Janice to act as though Melody had been sitting on her butt all afternoon.
“I’m just finishing up right now,” Melody assured the woman that the rest of the staff referred to as the “dragon lady” behind her back.
Janice’s dark eyes narrowed, and her pinched expression grew even more sour. “Well, hurry up. You were the one who told me you had to be out of here right away.”
“I know.” Crap. Melody had almost forgotten about that. “I do. And I really appreciate you hurrying your own stuff along so we can leave.”
Janice muttered something unintelligible and then stalked back into the office. Melody waited until she was out of sight before groaning. It was a good thing she hadn’t made plans with Cisco tonight anyway. She had another job to get to. Every once in a while, Allie got Melody some extra work with the catering company that made up Allie’s other part-time job.
Ten minutes passed. Melody and Janice both finished up. They locked up the shop and left via the back entrance. And twenty minutes after that, Melody was running the six blocks to the hotel where the catering gig was located.
The city blocks flew by. Denver was a new and beautiful city compared to so many other US cities, and yet Melody almost never had any sort of opportunity to enjoy it or to even notice. In fact, the only thing that Melody appreciated on a regular basis was that Denver was relatively safe compared to other cities she knew of. Unfortunately, that didn’t say much about Melody’s exposure or appreciation of culture or history. But who had time for that kind of thing anyway?
Rich people.
In other words, the type of people who would be attending the charity gala this evening were the sort of folks that had time to appreciate Denver’s Western culture and all of the rich historical parts of the city’s history. And as Melody pounded her way up the steps on her way to the back of the hotel and the staff entrance, she knew that those people would be entering the old hotel through the historic front entrance with its fabulous facade and red carpet.
“Oh my God!” Allie moaned. “I was afraid you weren’t going to show!”
Melody caught the long black apron that Allie threw her way. “I had to close with Janice.”
“Oh. Damn.” Allie pointed to Melody’s polo shirt. “I guess the green is all right. Make sure you put tape or something over the coffee shop logo though.”
“Right.” Melody tied a knot in the neck strap of her apron and used that to cover the logo on the right breast pocket of her polo. “Problem solved. Can we just get going?”
“Yes!” Allie was already dragging Melody out toward the ballroom where the dance floor had been set up and the band was doing a sound check.
“Okay, so we’re talking trays of appetizers and drinks. There’s an open bar.” Allie pointed to the floor. “No tables, which is good. We won’t have to serve dinner. I hate that.”
“The tips are always better when they’re just putting it on your tray,” Melody agreed. “So, when do we start?”
“Antonio will have us lining up to start taking trays around in about ten minutes.” Allie pointed to the far doors where the guests would enter. “It’s pretty much the usual setup.”
“All right.” Melody stifled a yawn.
She had been on her feet in these shoes since four this morning. She was tired and ready to lie down and zone out in front of the television, but that just wasn’t an option right now. Not yet anyway.
“Are you sure you can handle this?” Allie asked dubiously. “Antonio will kill me if you screw this up. Most of Denver’s top families will be at this gala. He’s hoping to score some private parties from this job.”
“I promise I won’t screw up,” Melody assured her friend. “Seriously. It isn’t hard. What could possibly go wrong?”
The security guards paced across the open ballroom. The band started to play. And the doors were flung open. Guests began meandering inside from the ballroom’s large foyer where they had been congregating for a pre-party drink.
Allie grabbed Melody’s arm and started dragging her out of the room and back into the kitchen. “Let’s get in line. I don’t want to have something like salmon crab puffs on my tray. Then I will be smelling fish all night long.�
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Melody could not help but laugh at her friend’s ridiculousness. Allie was a lot of fun to work with. They’d never hung out socially. Neither woman really had any time for such things. But at least when they were working at the coffee shop or doing a catering gig together, they could joke and have fun.
The kitchen was bustling when Melody and Allie returned. They got into the line of servers waiting to be handed trays on their way to circulate amongst the privileged guests in the ballroom. The first trays started sliding across the counter from the kitchen staff to Antonio, who would be handing them personally to the wait staff. He’d been known to spout off that this was the only way to know that he was serving the best product possible. He wanted his eyes on every single tray that went out of the kitchen in an effort to achieve perfection.
Melody thought briefly about what it would be like to be on the other side of this process. Not in the kitchen. Not holding a tray and waiting on others. What would it be like to be an actual guest at a party like this? What would it feel like to have other people bring trays around for her to peruse and reject at her whim? Would she like it? Or would it just feel weird? What kind of person let others wait on them hand and foot like this? It was an interesting question that she didn’t really have time to contemplate.
“Dammit!” Allie whispered as she took her tray from Antonio.
Melody smothered a laugh as she realized that Allie was carrying a heaping tray full of crab puffs and sushi. Her friend’s worst nightmare had come true. But when it was Melody’s turn, Antonio handed her a big tray full of white wine in glasses.
Melody bit back a groan as she held the heavy tray in front of her. Not only were wine glasses heavy, you had to keep them level for obvious reasons. Apparently, Antonio was punishing her for either being late or just being there in general. Either way, it was going to be a very long trip around the ballroom.
With a deep breath to hopefully internalize some fortitude, Melody began her trek around the ballroom in a quest to get rid of those heavy wine glasses. At least that was one bonus of carrying such a thing. Everyone always seemed eager enough to take the glasses off her hands.