Midnight Run
Page 2
His steps slowed, and he began his brisk cool down walk, but once he stopped running, the cold seeped through his clothes and into his bones, and Kingston gave an involuntary shiver. Cutting his walk short, he hurried back to his apartment a few blocks from the park. He knew the building was a prime location, if the price of his rent was any indication, but he hadn’t rented it for prestige; the apartment was conveniently located to both his new job and the park, and since work and running were the only things on his agenda, and since he had a considerable chunk of change saved up after living at home through college and for all the years since, Kingston figured he was allowed to splurge a little bit on real estate. His mother would have fainted if she’d seen the price tag and the tiny studio that accompanied it, and his father would have shook his head and called him reckless, but Kingston didn’t care.
He didn’t plan on telling them, either.
CHAPTER THREE
Nora got up with her alarm, despite the persistent ache across her shoulder blades leftover from a day at work, and laced up her running shoes. Her roommate, Carl, hadn’t been home when she went to bed, and he was snoring when she tiptoed into the kitchen, but somehow, he’d still left a sticky note for her on the coffee pot.
“Kick butt, sweetheart.” Nora grinned and slapped the sticky note on the back of her phone before she strapped it to her arm. Hurriedly, she scribbled her own note, wishing Carl a “rocking day”, and then she headed out into the city. They’d been best friends since ninth grade, when Carl moved to Nora’s small town and freaked everybody out with his pierced ears and flamboyant personality, and the sticky note tradition was almost as old as their friendship. Sometimes, if Carl was in a particularly nostalgic mood, Nora would find her morning note folded into a tiny paper football, like they used to fold and flick across their desks back in high school.
Living with Carl had certainly made New York more fun; before he broke up with his last boyfriend and moved in with her, Nora had had a string of awful roommates, people she’d only met because she’d put up flyers in the neighborhood. Still, awful or not, she’d managed to keep a steady stream of co-renters for the five years she’d lived in the city, and now that Carl was there, it was starting to feel more and more likely that she’d be able to stay in New York long-term.
She’d always loved the glitz and the glamor of the place, and even five years as a barista hadn’t spoiled that for her. After all that time, she was making alarmingly good money at the coffee shop; Todd had a lot of turnover with the staff, but those who stayed more than a year were rewarded with big raises every few months and crappy health insurance.
Running, coffee, and the city, Nora thought with a smile as she started her run. What more does a girl need? True, with her crazy schedule, it had gotten harder and harder to keep up with her folks back home in Pennsylvania, but everything had seemed fine when she was home for Christmas the previous month. Still, Nora made a mental note to try and give her mom a call sometime that weekend.
As her feet pounded the dark asphalt, Nora’s mind wandered, and her six-mile loop of the park flew by. I really need to start running the park twice, Nora thought as she checked the time on her phone and headed back across town to get ready for work. That would almost be a half marathon.
Back at the apartment, she took her contacts out carefully before stepping into the shower. Even though she had the kind that could be worn all day, even to bed, Nora always wore her glasses for work; getting a coffee ground stuck under her left contact years ago had been lesson enough for her. Now she only wore her contacts for running.
Stripping off her sweaty clothes, Nora jumped into the shower, relishing the feel of the hot water against her cold skin. Running in the winter was rough, but not as bad as running in the summer; at least her body temperature had a chance to equalize in the winter, instead of staying feverish all day long. Nora wanted to linger under the spray, but she wasn’t ready to risk another late entrance at Books and Brew, so she skipped conditioning her hair and rinsed off as fast as she could.
The mirror hadn’t even had a chance to steam up by the time Nora was finished, and she studied her face for a moment. High, pale cheekbones framed her hazel eyes, and Nora grimaced. She’d always hated how bland she looked; brown hair, brownish eyes, and pale lips that didn’t look right with any color of lipstick, no matter how many times she let the women at the makeup counter in the mall back home do her colors. Remembering what Colleen had said, Nora didn’t slick her hair back right away. Watching her face in the mirror, she cautiously scrunched up the ends of her toffee colored hair, and light, bouncy waves hung around her face, stopping just above her shoulders. She shrugged. Might as well try something different for a change. Carl had been after her to color her hair, but Nora was never sure she could pull off any of the bold looks he suggested.
“Plain little bird,” she muttered as she got dressed and grabbed her bag. Gran had always said that about her, and Nora had never worked up the courage to tell her how much it hurt.
When she made it across town, Books and Brew was hopping, but this time, Nora wasn’t late. Todd scheduled her long shifts, but he hadn’t made her open since she told him about running; if she’d had to get to the coffee shop before five, she could kiss her runs goodbye.
Laurel was making drinks when Nora got there, but Caity wasn’t in site.
“Morning, Laurel,” Nora said quietly as she tied on her apron and headed to the register.
Laurel grunted. “I guess.”
Nora decided to try to be friendly. “Did you have a late night?”
Laurel nodded, brushing her dark, asymmetrical bangs off her forehead. “Yeah,” she glanced cautiously at Nora. “There was a rave out in Brooklyn.” She dropped her voice conspiratorially. “Didn’t make it home wearing my own panties, if you know what I mean.”
Nora almost grimaced at the image, but she forced herself to nod sympathetically. “Um, yeah, I’ve had nights like that.” The closest she’d ever been to a rave was a movie she saw last summer, and she didn’t even want to think about whatever Laurel meant by the underwear comment, but she wasn’t about to admit that, especially not when Laurel was being almost civil to her. “Do you need some aspirin or something?”
Laurel snorted. “Just need to get through this shift.” She handed a customer his latte and looked at Nora over her shoulder. “Are you going to take his order?”
“What?” Nora spun around, her cheeks instantly hot. She’d been so fixated on trying to make nice with Laurel that she hadn’t heard the customer who’d been standing there waiting. Her eyes locked on his tan face, and Nora cringed, thinking about the underwear exchange. How long had he been there?
Tex’s face lit up. “It’s you again, hon. Nice to bump into you.”
Nora’s skin started to tingle under his gaze. “You, too,” she finally managed to say.
He leaned on the counter, his eyes skimming her face before coming to rest on the menu board beside her. “So,” he drawled, “what’s good here?”
“Um, I don’t know,” she stuttered, “I mean, everything is pretty good. As long as you like caffeine.” Oh my gosh, what’s wrong with me? “The coffee is great,” she finished lamely, trying to figure out why her brain seemed to have deserted her.
Gunmetal gray eyes met hers, and Nora caught her breath for a moment. “I guess I’ll just have a coffee,” he said with a smile that nearly sent Nora into cardiac arrest.
Flustered, she reached for the cups stacked neatly beside the register, but Laurel beat her to it. Filling the Styrofoam quickly, she reached over Nora to hand it to the Texan. “On the house, handsome,” she said, dropping her voice and giving him a slow, sultry smile. Nora bit her lip; she could barely form complete sentences around the guy, but Laurel was acting like they’d hooked up. Why can’t I be that confident? Disheartened, she started to move away from the register, but the Texan’s voice stopped her.
“Thanks, hon. I hope I’ll see you again soon.”<
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Nora looked up, but he’d already turned away, and any hope that he’d been talking to her was shattered when Laurel said, “Oh, you can count on it.”
Desperate to find something to distract her, Nora hurried into the back to restock the pastry case, but her mind spun in circles. Why couldn’t she flirt as effortlessly as Laurel? True, she’d gone on a few dates since moving to the city, but they never ended well; she never felt like she could open up to any of the men she’d dated, and after a few failed attempts to invite her back to their apartments, they usually lost interest and drifted away. It wasn’t that she wasn’t interested, exactly, but maybe part of her was still looking for that illusive fairy tale spark that she’d grown up longing for. And there’s no reason to think a random Texan will do it for you, either, she chastised herself. It was ridiculous for her to be getting moony-eyed over a complete stranger.
Someone tapped her on the shoulder, and she almost dropped the tray of muffins and croissants she was holding.
Todd frowned at her. “Why are you so jumpy this morning?”
She shrugged, trying to slow her heart. “Just tired, I guess.”
“Well, that’s no good.” He looked up at the front counter. “Can you stop what you’re doing for a minute? I’d like to talk to you.”
Obediently, Nora set the tray down on the counter and followed Todd to his broom closet office, where he perched on the edge of his desk and gestured to a rickety wooden chair. Nora sat down gingerly. “What did you need?”
“You,” the old man said bluntly. “I’m hiring a new assistant manager.”
She couldn’t have heard him right. “I didn’t realize Shari was gone.”
Todd shook his head without answering. “You’re a good employee, Nora, and you’ve been here longer than almost anybody else. The position is yours for the taking, if you want it.”
Nora stared at him, openmouthed. “Seriously?”
“Yup. You could start training as early as Monday. It’s a five percent raise on your current hourly, plus a crummy little 401K package.” Todd smiled at her, his silver mustache turning up comically. “What do you say?”
Although she was jumping for joy, Nora didn’t want to make a rash decision. “What would the hours look like?”
Todd rubbed the back of his neck. “I sort of wish you hadn’t asked. You’ll have split shifts to start, opening and closing the store five days a week.” He looked down at his desk and carefully shuffled a stack of papers, not making eye contact with Nora.
She deflated. “But what about my running?”
“I know, I know, but just think; a real income, kiddo. This kind of job doesn’t come along that often, especially not in the coffee industry.”
He’s right. Still, Nora hesitated. “Can I have a day or two to think it over?”
Todd nodded. “Of course. Take your time, but if you could give me a decision before the weekend; if you don’t want it, I’ll need to pull the old applications file and see if anyone is still interested.”
“What about Laurel or Caity?” The words slipped out before she could think, and Nora cringed. Did she really want Todd to offer the job to either of them? I’m practically throwing myself under a bus! They already have it out for me; how much worse would it be if either of them was a manager?
Todd shook his head immediately. “Not as good with the customers as you are, kiddo, not to mention the rest of the staff. It takes a certain kind of person to be a good manager. You have to make nice with the customers while still turning a profit, and you have to be friendly with your staff without letting them think you’re buddies. It’s a fine line to walk, and I think you’d be a natural.”
Glowing from his praise, Nora smiled, even though she still wasn’t sure she wanted to take the job. “I’ll let you know as soon as I’ve decided.”
Todd nodded. “Do that. But remember, Nora this isn’t the kind of offer that comes around every day.” He smiled at her. “I hope you’ll decide to take it.”
She nodded as she headed back to work. “I’ll think about it,” she promised.
CHAPTER FOUR
Kingston wanted to linger at the coffee shop and watch the cute girl behind the counter, but he didn’t think he could be away from the office for very long. At least this time no one asked me to bring coffee back for them. He didn’t mind being polite and looking out for his coworkers, but it wasn’t hard to see that the coffee requests during his first few days on the job had been a subtle power play from the other men in the office; Kingston sensed that they were quietly putting him in his place, letting him know that, even if he’d been a mover and a shaker at the branch back home, here in the city he was still the new kid, no better than an intern in their eyes.
Despite the office politics waiting for him as he hurried back to the skyscraper with blue reflective windows, he couldn’t keep his thoughts away from the girl. She’d charmed him to pieces the first time they’d met with her big brown eyes and sweet smile, and he’d been more than a little annoyed that Carrie had shown up when she did.
He pushed through the chrome and glass revolving door and strode across the lobby to the elevator. When he’d first transferred, he’d planned on taking the stairs every day as part of his half marathon training, but thirteen flights got old real fast. Still, I should add stairs to my regimen; maybe I should ask the group for suggestions? He’d finally joined a midnight runner’s group, and it hadn’t taken long before he felt right at home with the other runners.
The elevator doors opened, and Kingston tried to slip by Carrie’s desk without drawing her attention, but her familiar voice stopped him. “Hey, sweetie. Did you bring me any coffee?”
He paused, a polite smile on his face. “Sorry, Carrie, I was in a rush.”
She pouted at him from behind the reception desk. “Aw, no worries, I guess.”
Kingston sighed. “Next time I’ll grab you a cup,” he promised, wishing he had it in him to be anything but polite to a woman. His mother had raised him right, but Carrie made him wish he’d kept his kindness to himself; ever since he invited her along for coffee that first time, she’d been pestering him each day, and Kingston swore he could feel her eyes on him while he worked. He hadn’t wanted to peer over his cubicle to see if that was true or not, but he never seemed to make it past the reception desk without getting caught in a pointless conversation.
Carrie stood up and leaned toward him, and Kingston’s eyes dipped to her neckline for a moment before he caught himself. She smiled at him knowingly. “Why don’t we skip the coffee and get a drink tonight, huh?”
God, he hated pushy women. “No, thanks,” he said, trying to keep his smile from slipping. “I’ve got a late night training session, so I’ll need to catch a few hours of sleep right after work.”
Her smile slipped. “Late night training session?”
He nodded. “I’m planning to run the half this spring.”
Her brow furrowed for a moment, but then Carrie laughed. “Oh, Kingston. You’re just too sweet for words; did anybody ever tell you that?”
Not sure why she was laughing or how to respond, Kingston just tipped his head toward her and retreated to his cubicle. The sound of Carrie’s giggles followed him, and he shook his head in confusion.
Taking a swallow of his now-cold coffee, his thoughts drifted back to the pretty girl at the café, and he wondered if it would be too obvious if he suddenly started going there every day on his breaks.
“Knock, knock,” his boss wrapped his knuckles on the top of the cubicle, and Kingston jumped, spilling coffee down the front of his shirt.
He bit back a curse, digging through his desk drawer in search of napkins while his boss watched. Making a couple of futile dabs at his chest, he grinned ruefully up at his boss. “What did you need, Mr. Fitz?”
The older man leaned casually against the flimsy wall. “I just wanted to see how you’re settling in, Price”
He sort of hated that his boss insisted on referr
ing to everyone by their last name, no “Mr.” or “Ms.” in front of it, but he tried not to let the rudeness get to him. Just because the other man wasn’t as polite as he’d have liked didn’t mean Kingston had to answer him in kind. “Fine,” Kingston said. “The office may be bigger, but the work is similar to what I was used to back home.” He grinned. “Only there’s more of it.”
Fitz quirked an eyebrow. “How long are you planning on being in this position?”
“As long as it’s a good fit, I guess,” Kingston said slowly. “But I don’t have any plans to leave.”
“Then a word of advice, son. You might want to stop referring to Texas as ‘home’.”
Kingston dipped his head in acknowledgement, trying not to look embarrassed. “You know how it is, sir,” he said. “New York takes some getting used to, but I’m very happy here.”
Fitz nodded without answering, and he moved away, leaving Kingston alone with his work. He glanced over his shoulder once, wondering if he’d given his boss the answers the man was looking for, and then he shook his head. No use worrying. I’ve just got to make sure I do my job, and do a damn good job at it, too. Things had been much more laid back in his old office, and Kingston hadn’t quite adjusted to the feeling that everyone he worked with in New York was sizing him up, waiting to see if he’d sink or float.
Throwing the empty coffee cup in the trash, Kingston’s thoughts returned to the pretty barista with a smile. Pretty barista…PB. He chuckled at the nickname. “We’ll go together like peanut butter and jelly,” he joked to himself as he thought about her. And maybe, he thought, turning back to his computer and starting to tackle his inbox, I’ll have the guts to ask her name the next time I see her.
CHAPTER FIVE
Carl was sprawled out on the couch when Nora got home, watching a reality show about robots, but he grinned as soon as he saw her.