A Different Kind of Perfect (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Ceri Grenelle

  Colton’s phone pinged an incoming text message. He glanced at it with a curse and scooped the phone up before removing himself from the booth with a kiss to both their foreheads. “Be right back.”

  “Poor guy is so stressed,” Alexis said once Colton was away from the table.

  “I know, you notice his coping mechanism?”

  “The doodling? How could I not? I’m surprised one of the empty bedrooms doesn’t have drawings all over the walls.” Bleu laughed at Alex’s image of Colton, his beautiful hair all scraggly and greasy from lack of care, scribbling manically on the walls.

  “I don’t think it’s just the textbook editors giving him stress,” she said, looking toward the bathroom hallway where she could see Colton speaking heatedly on the phone.

  “I know. He needs to tell his family. Fuck, I need him to tell his family.” Alex picked up her hand and tugged it across the table, giving it a kiss.

  She nodded. “I’m starting to feel the same way. We’ve indulged him enough. I think it’s time.”

  Colton rushed back over to the booth, his agitation at peak velocity.

  “Sorry, guys. I have to go to a meeting.”

  “Are you kidding? There’s a fucking blizzard on, don’t they see this shit?” Alexis stood, meeting Colt’s agitation with his own concern.

  “It’s the editors. They are calling in all the authors who are collaborating on this thing for some final fact-checking. I promise once the book is done, which will be really soon, we’ll go on a long weekend or something, OK?” Colton looked so guilty Bleu couldn’t help but stand and give him a sweet kiss, despite her disappointment and worry.

  “We understand. Just as long as you understand you’ll be paying for all of it with the sales from your textbook.”

  “Deal,” he said, smiling and wrapping his scarf around his neck.

  Alexis cupped the nape of Colton’s neck, turning him so their lips were inches apart. “And we expect spa packages.”

  “You drive a hard bargain.” Colt pulled Alex in by his belt loops to give him a lingering kiss. The catcall from the hostess stand, obviously Daniela, made Bleu snort in glee.

  Alexis looked at Bleu with mischief in his eyes. “Think we can find a place that sells trouple massages?”

  “Ugh.” She crossed her arms over her chest with a playful huff of annoyance at that term they knew she hated.

  “Bye, loves.” Colt pulled the beanie Bleu had bought him as a cute Hanukkah present over his blond locks, kissed Bleu on the lips, and stole off into the snowy night. They both walked toward the front of the diner, watching him wipe the thick snow off his windshield and get into the car. Alexis turned to one of his bus boys and told him to get the snow salt and spread another layer around the parking lot.

  Bleu wrapped her arms around Alexis. “He’s a good driver. He’ll be OK.”

  Alexis kissed the top of her head. “Yes, he will. Don’t worry.” He pulled her back over to their booth and snuggled down. “What do you want to eat?”

  Bleu was just about to decide when a group of what must have been twenty people bustled into the diner, trailing snow and cold air. Alexis looked over at the group and then surveyed the dining room. Daniela would need to do some serious finagling to fit this group somewhere.

  “Alexis.” Daniela hurried over, a panicked look on her face.

  “Need help seating them?”

  “Pfft!” she waved him off. “No. But two of the waitstaff haven’t come in yet and Rina needed to leave early because her kid is sick and she had to pick him up from his afterschool thing.”

  “OK, I’ll take some orders, it’s not a problem.” He started to get up but Daniela, who was usually very cool when it came to seating large parties, waved her arms around trying to get his attention.

  “I’m not finished. Raul, in the kitchen, told me he wasn’t feeling well and just walked out! We need you on the line. I need to seat these people and there are tables that still haven’t been greeted yet.”

  “Why didn’t you say something before?”

  She tugged her hair back from her forehead, looking around frantically. “I didn’t realize till now. It all happened at once. I’m sorry.”

  “I can help,” Bleu offered. “I have the menu memorized by now.”

  “Have you ever waited tables before?” Daniela asked, her cool returning.

  “Not a diner but I used to work in a Starbucks.”

  “Not the same but it will do. Thanks, baby.” Alex kissed her hard, grabbed all their things, and started toward the kitchen. “I’ll keep our stuff in my office.”

  “OK.” Bleu nodded at him, reaching under the host’s stand for an apron and digital ticket book to take orders.

  She spent the next couple of hours assisting Daniela and serving tables. The only hiccups she had were on the computerized input menus that sent the tickets to the kitchen, but once she got the hang of it the evening went by pretty easily.

  As the dinner rush wound down and that lull between 8:00 p.m. and 10:00 p.m. on a weekday began, Bleu noticed a somewhat scruffy man sitting at the counter, waiting for his coffee mug to be filled. She walked over, noting his wide frame and pitch-black hair. He had the look of a man who had lost a lot of weight from illness but didn’t quite fit into the new body shape yet. Bleu rounded the corner and grabbed the brewed coffee from the burner to pour him a cup.

  “You need some creamer, sir?” she asked pleasantly.

  “Skim if you got it,” he replied with a thick New York City accent.

  “Would you like anything else? Some soup? You look like you could use some warming up.”

  “What kind of soup do you have?” He grunted, looking around at the crowd.

  “The usual. Tomato, chicken noodle, minestrone. But my personal favorite happens to be the special today. It’s called vichyssoise, it’s a carrot and cream based soup—”

  “I know what it is. My ex used to make it. I’ll try it, but I’ve never tasted better than hers.”

  “I’m sure you’ll be impressed.” As she walked away she heard him mutter “don’t hold your breath.” Poor guy seemed so cold and miserable she knew the soup would cheer him up. Alexis made that soup himself every Wednesday and he poured his whole heart into it just like everything else he made.

  She put the order into the computer and sent it to the kitchen. After a few minutes checking on her other tables she brought the soup out to the older man.

  “You mind if I hang with you for a bit to see if you like it?”

  “Sure.” He shrugged, spooning some of the creamy orange soup into his mouth. He froze, a look of pure joy tinged with confusion, and another emotion she couldn’t place, gracing his worn and scruffy features. He looked straight at her for the first time and said, “This is damn good.”

  She laughed, enjoying his continued muttering about how good the soup was. ‘“It is, isn’t it? If you need anything else, let me know. I’ll be back in a few.”

  He grunted in response, too intent on his soup to hear her. Even though she loved his appreciation of the soup, there was something off about the guy. He was shifty, hands twitching like he was nervous. It reminded her of the young kids at her NA group, not really trusting anyone or anything around them, always looking for the fastest exit route. Seeing what was easily available to grab and run with.

  So maybe the guy was a junkie. Maybe he was just cold and old and needed some soup. She really needed to stop seeing junkies everywhere. She chuckled at herself and went to greet a couple Daniela just sat at one her tables.

  At one point the old guy stopped her as she was walking by the coffee bar with a cold and clammy hand on her arm. His grip was stronger than she would have thought for a shaky old guy.

  “Who made this delicious soup?” he asked, a small smile lighting up his face, changing his features from wary to inviting. It was unnerving that his face emoted warmth while his eyes still rang cold.

  “The owner of the diner,” Bleu provided. She
shook off his arm, moving a step further away from him. She was being paranoid.

  “Would that be a Ms. Annabelle? I would love to meet her.”

  “No the diner is named for someone, that’s not the owner. If you would excuse me, I need to check on my other tables. I’m real glad you like the soup, sir.”

  She left him to it. She didn’t really need to check her tables. It was almost eleven at night and most had gone home. The ones who were remaining were still tucking into their hearty late night diner fares. After about fifteen minutes she couldn’t figure out any more ways to stall besides bothering Alex in the kitchen, which she always got on Colton’s ass for doing, so how could she do the same? Eventually she gave up and went back behind the coffee bar.

  “So where are you from, doll?” the man asked almost immediately upon her return, sipping from his coffee. She topped him off before answering.

  “Originally, Louisiana. But I’ve lived north of the Mason-Dixon Line the majority of my life. How ’bout you, sir?” The man began to speak but out of the corner of her eye Bleu saw Colton walk back into the diner, brushing snow off his coat. She waved at him from behind the counter and gestured him over. He laughed with a confused look on his face as he caught sight of her apron and strode over.

  “So what, Alex got you doing manual labor in exchange for his love now?” Colton leaned over the counter to kiss her cheek.

  “No, they had a snafu with a sick line cook and some MIA servers. Probably caught in this weather. I hope everyone is OK.”

  “Aw, my bighearted Bleu,” Colton said, making her squeal as he framed her face with his freezing cold hands. His hands were ice cold but she didn’t push them away. “I’m sure they’re fine, baby.”

  “How was the all-important emergency meeting?” She air quoted with her fingers after giving his frozen nose an Eskimo kiss to warm it up.

  “Not that all-important in my opinion,” he admitted with a grimace. “There was a heated discussion about the cover.”

  “That’s it? They made you drive out there in this weather, after hours, just for some friggin’ cover discussion? That’s such bullshit! It’s a fucking textbook for Christ’s sake.” She turned to the older man. “Excuse my language, sir.”

  “Fine. Always liked a woman with a mouth on her.” He winked at her and she smiled shortly back at him.

  Colton gave him an annoyed look, playing the part of the protective boyfriend, then dismissed him turning back to her.” It’s only a five minute drive from here, baby.”

  “The next time I see your editor I’m going to tell him that a cover argument of a friggin’ textbook does not warrant a drive through a snowstorm.” She poured him a hot cup of coffee, which he immediately wrapped his cold hands around.

  “Please don’t, he’s scared enough of you as it is.” He leaned across the counter once more, tugging her closer by the straps of her apron and kissed her quick before she could playfully smack him away.

  She rolled her eyes, thinking about the many ways she could flambé Colton’s editor, and turned back to the creepy customer. “Can I get you anything else, sir?”

  “Is the owner here? I’m sure he’s busy but I would love to meet him and thank him for that soup.”

  “I don’t know,” she responded quickly before Colton could say anything. The man was probably just homeless and harmless but she wanted to find out more about him before subjecting another one of her lovers to his creepy vibe. “I think he went home a while ago.” She sent Colton a sidelong glance, hoping he’d get the message.

  Colton looked over at the guy and studied him for a moment. The guy was still shaking, skirting looks around the diner. After over an hour of sitting in a warm diner, drinking coffee and eating soup, he should have warmed up. This was not just some guy seeking solace from the cold. Colton stood from his chair and told Bleu he was headed to the bathroom.

  Between checking on her dwindling tables Bleu chatted, attempting to be amiable, with the man about how he recently lost his job on construction sites because of the economy. He didn’t mention specifics, just that the bosses were hiring cheaper labor and complaining about losing quality. It took a little bit for Bleu to realize it, but the guy wasn’t as old as she originally thought. The worn edges around his eyes and mouth, the way he hunched and quivered in his over-sized jacket, and almost yellowish quality to his teeth made him seem older than he probably was. It made her even more wary.

  About twenty minutes later the man put some money on the counter and moved to put his coat on. Before Bleu could breathe a sigh of relief she heard Colt and Alex’s voice coming closer.

  “Colt, baby, I need to start tallying the receipts and I need to start out here, at the bar, and then we can go home—” He stopped in his tracks as Colt stood in front of him.

  “Hey,” the man called to Alexis, having turned when he heard them coming from the kitchen. “You the owner?”

  “Yeah, I’m Alexis, can I help you?” he asked congenially.

  He nodded. “I wanted to thank you for the good soup.” The man put on the rest of his coat but, with a pace faster than she would have ever guessed he could go, grabbed Bleu’s arm and dragged her over the counter with one hand, a gun pointing at her with the other. Her leg kicked the coffee pot as she flailed from being dragged, the hot liquid spilling and scorching her leg through her worn jeans.

  “Give me all the money in your safe and I’ll let the girl go.” He noticed a customer holding his cell phone to his ear out of the corner of his eye. “Put the phone down or I shoot her.” The kid dropped the phone to the table. “Smart.”

  He dug the gun into her temple, his free hand wrapped around her neck, squeezing all the air from her lungs.

  “Let up, she can’t breathe,” Alex yelled, his face red with fury. Colton held his hand on Alex’s arm. She looked to Colton, flickering her eyes to Alex quickly, hoping he got the idea. Hold him back. Do not let him jump and do something stupid that would get them killed.

  “Stay the fuck back and go get my money.” He shifted his arm so his free hand was now wrapped around her neck, his disgusting fingernails digging into her skin. She wanted to cry out at the pain but held it in, trying to keep herself together for her guys who looked like they were about to fly off the handle.

  Alex cursed and nodded at one of the line cooks who had emerged from the kitchen, telling him to go back and open the safe. “Let her go. Take me for hostage, not her,” Alex said, trying to keep his cool. “One of my managers is gonna get your money. Just let her go.”

  “I think I’ll hang onto her for the moment. Anyway, I’m not into guys.” He laughed at his joke and she thought she would vomit when she felt his cock grind into her ass. Oh fuck no was she letting this dickhead touch her like this.

  Thanking God or whatever that she’d worn her steel-toed boots that day, she made a split decision and went limp in his arms like she’d fainted.

  “What the fu—” As his hand lost its grip on her neck, she crouched and spun toward him, reaching for the gun and pointing it toward the ceiling while simultaneously toeing him in the shin.

  The gun went off and the silent diner erupted into screams. Bleu wrenched the gun from his hands and Colton tackled the guy around the waist. They slammed into the coffee counter stools. Hands and fists swung wildly as each of the men tried to get the upper hand when the bastard punched Colton in the face, pushed him back toward Bleu and Alex, then bowled a few customers over as he dashed out of the diner.

  Bleu flipped the safety on the gun and stashed it behind the counter. Alexis was cradling Colton’s face, making sure nothing was broken. After checking on Daniela and telling her to call the police, she rushed over to her men.

  “I’m fine, Alex,” Colt said as he pushed Alex’s hands away from his face. He saw Bleu approach and pulled her into their arms. “Are you OK, baby?”

  “Yeah.” She would not let herself cry over this mess even though she starting to shake as though she was going throu
gh withdrawal all over again.

  “Good. Because if you ever pull a stunt like that again, I’m gonna point a gun at you myself.” Alex turned her to look at him. “You could have been shot.”

  “What was I supposed to do, wait for my knights in shining armor to rescue me?”

  “Yes!” they yelled in unison.

  Her panicked anger softened. “Guys, I’m not a damsel in distress. I’m a modern woman who has taken self-defense classes and am perfectly capable of protecting myself.” She gave each of them a short but reassuring kiss.

  “We reserve the right to act like cavemen every now and then where you’re concerned.” Alex grunted, pulling her into the reassuring embrace of his strong arms.

  “Yeah well I reserve the right to kick your asses when you do…and to act like a caveman where you two are concerned as well.”

  “Alexis,” Daniela squeaked. There were tears in her eyes. “Are you OK?”

  “Hey, sweetheart, come here.” He stood and enveloped her in his arms. His close relationship with his relatives was yet another reason Bleu felt so lucky to have him in her life. He cared for his cousin’s daughter as if she were his own. “Don’t cry, Dany, we’re all OK. My Bleu over there, rode in on her white horse, and saved all our asses.”

  Bleu snorted. “Damn straight.”

  “When he had that gun out I thought he was going to k–k–kill you.” She sobbed into his chest and held him tight.

  “We’re looking for the owner. We received a report of a man with a gun.” Bleu looked over to see two policemen making their way through the crowd. Good, now they’d catch that bastard and get this sorted.

  “Colton Evans?” One of the officers called with a concerned expression as he recognized him.

  “Oh fuck,” Colton murmured, supporting Bleu as they stood.

  The annoyed expression he was making confused her. “Why are you upset? We have to report this.”

  “I know that,” he hissed at her as they watched Alexis walking over to the officers and shaking their hands. Bleu turned back to Colton.