Death Knows My Name (Memory Keepers) (9 page)

Chapter 9

I woke with a start. I had to fight awake. I no longer felt the warm embrace of being rescued from my sleep. I had to make a clawing escape to the waking world. Eric was truly gone. He wasn’t my stalker anymore. My heart was collapsing in on itself. I brought my knees up to my chest as I curled into the fetal position and cried.

I now knew what true hatred felt like. I truly hated Valience, but I hated myself more for doing this to us, for allowing Valience to come between us. If I wasn’t so weak and willing to take a little risk, but
no
. I would not risk Eric in a battle that I could not win. I only wondered if Eric was feeling like I was: that this was hell. Worse, hell was for the dead, but I was living. No one had done this to me either. I did it to myself. No, Valience did this. He gave me no choice. He threatened Eric and I would never again let a man I love suffer. I would be strong, even when it did feel like I was decaying inside. When it felt like everything was shriveling up and rotting, I would remember why. I would remember the reason I was suffering. This, and the fact that Eric was all right would carry me through this life. This lonely life I was living had a purpose.

For Eric, I would allow Tammy, Michael, and whoever else into my life and lose them to Death’s list. I will do it and do it for as long as I had to. Death was a greedy bastard—a glutton—but I would do my duty as a memory keeper so Eric wouldn’t have to hesitate in his. It was time I stopped running. I had to live and I had to remember.

I dragged myself out of bed and gathered my strength. I had to do this not for myself, but for the fact that I was in love with Eric. He did what I asked when I told him to leave and make it easy on me, so I would do this for him in return to make his job easier on him. As odd as it seemed, Valience’s threats made it easier.

I pulled myself together as I showered. I did my hair, taking the time to straighten it. I did the extra effort to at least
look
together. And when normally I’d throw on clothing, today I decided to wear an outfit. I was an image of my old self. From the outside looking in I appeared I had finally recovered. I hoped I did, at least.

I walked through the Lunge Lounge doors on time. Devon looked up briefly and then returned to what he was doing. I watched him freeze and then jerk his eyes back in my direction. I felt self-conscious.

“Hey,” I shyly offered.

“You feeling okay this morning?” He cocked his head at me like I had two heads.

“Why? Don’t I look okay?” I tugged nervously on the bottom of my form-fitting, button-up blouse. I thought I looked the best I have in weeks, if not years.

“Yeah, you look awesome. What’s up? Do we need to talk about this?”

I laughed. “Let’s work.”

The entire first half of the day, I kept taking quick peeks at the clock on the wall. I was waiting for noon to roll around and for Michael to walk through the door. I called him this morning when Devon finally stopped gawking at me like I was a pod person who was going to birth my minions at any second. He finally went into the office to do some more paperwork, and I was able to use the phone without his eavesdropping in on my half of the conversation.

Michael seemed a little hesitant, but willing enough that he had agreed to meet me here. Now I think I should have had him meet me somewhere else. Anywhere besides here where Devon would no doubt be hovering. I already knew he’d get the wrong idea. I found myself wondering if Eric would also get the wrong idea. But then I reminded myself that Eric was really gone. He was not hanging around any longer. I tried not to whimper as I mixed a small Espresso Macchiato. I’m pretty sure customers didn’t want a weeping girl making up their morning caffeine fix.

I handed the lady in the twill skirt set the hot paper mug. “Can I get you anything else?” Praying she’d say
no
.

The woman grumbled her answer, taking a few napkins she retreated to a table.

The routine repeated for the next few hours. The only thing different was the drinks. Caffe Mocha, Espresso Con Panna, Mocha Valencia, or any other variety of Latte, Espresso, and Cappuccino. I developed a love for customers who just wanted their coffee regular! Bless them. Who needs all that frilly shit anyway? I take my coffee black every day of the week. It’s straight to the point, no dicking around.

The pre-lunch lull had began. Wednesdays are the slowest day of the week so mornings were a solo shift. Working this shift had its benefits. I mean, yes it was a drag having to cashier and make the drink, not to mention making those damn biscotti. But it also meant I got to have my lunch during the busiest time of the day. You get the lunch rush off. When Devon asks me do the solo shift, I never turn it down. Maybe we’d be so busy that no one would notice me with Michael. Or maybe he’d come early when we had no customers and my co-workers and boss had nothing better to do but watch us.

I heard the chime that signaled incoming customers. I was ready to plaster my cheeriest “customer” friendly face on when I saw it was Michael.
Isn’t my luck the best?
I glanced over at the clock.

“Hey, you’re early? Would you like a drink?” I tried to sound natural.

“Yeah, I hate being late. I make it a habit to arrive early.” He was now in front of the counter and I fought the sneer that was tickling to take over my lips. How annoying. I’m late more often than not, big deal, dude. On time people are annoying enough, early birds were unforgivable. What were they trying to prove exactly? Did they want everyone else to look bad? I had zoned out mid-conversation and he was now watching me.

“What can I make for you while you
wait
?” I tried to soften my exaggeration of the word by adding, “I promise I am good. Whatever it is will knock your socks off.” I smiled and threw in a wink. Hell, when all else fails, flirt your ass off. One of the rules I live by. I saw a small smile tug at the corner of his mouth. It was very charming. Lucky Tammy. Not that I wanted Michael or anything. I mean, only in the way any woman would want an attractive man. I mean, I loved Eric regardless of if we could be together or not, but I was a woman, and I damn sure was not blind.

He wanted a white mocha Cappuccino. Since we weren’t busy, I told him to find a table and I’d bring it to him. We were practically empty. Besides the two older men in the middle of the seating area, Michael was the only other customer. I went to refill the two men’s regular coffees leaving the pot on their table for more refills. I sat Michael’s order in front of him along with the plate of two cinnamon muffins on top of it and took the seat across from him.

“This is another attempt at an apology, but this time I brought a peace offering.” I removed the plate from his drink and I pushed one muffin toward him. “I rarely apologize twice, but it means a lot to Tammy. She’s crazy about you and since I’m not going anywhere, I figure you have to forgive me if you want to get close to Tam.”

He raised a thick eyebrow. “Close to Tammy?” he asked.

I leaned back. “Come on. She’s a knock out, she likes you, she’s nice, sweet, and an all around better fit for you than I am. Seriously, a moody rock star can’t have an even moodier bed, buddy. Rock Star 101, dude. You did read the manual, right?”

He laughed and then went serious. His brows knitted together in thought. “She just seems so girl-like.”

“Are you worried about the sex?”

He coughed on his cappuccino as his eyes went wide. But before he could speak, I leaned forward to whisper to him as if I were sharing a secret.

“If that’s the case, then you are in for a surprise. That girl is raw sexuality. She would blow you away.” I had no idea if this was true or not, but if it’s anything like guys then it’s the ones you’d least suspect that would have you ass over head while holding on to your ankles to the point that you could be the 6:30 on a clock and 6:45 if you aren’t that flexible.

Michael just sat there staring at me.

I shrugged. “What? I didn’t say the ‘it’s the ones you’d least suspect that would have you ass over head while holding on to your ankles to the point that you could be the 6:30 on a clock or 6:45 if you aren’t that flexible thing out loud, did I? Because I have this bad habit of saying very inappropriate things out loud instead of just thinking them—”

Michael’s mouth was dang near on the floor. “Stop talking, please.” He said it with a hint of good humor and his cheeks were reddening. He was looking around as if checking for eavesdroppers. But we had none. I saw the other two customers leave about two minutes ago.

“Crap, you really don’t have people skills. Devon tried to warn me that night when I first asked about you and then you told me, but man! You really don’t.” He laughed again. “I forgive you, just don’t say anything else about freaking 7:30—”

“6:30. Well I guess you can do 7:30 but then unless she has long Broobee arms she couldn’t grab her ankles. But I get your point and I will stop talking now.” I shut my mouth, slightly embarrassed, and slumped down a little in my chair.

That’s all it took for me to be forgiven by him—for me to make him uncomfortable while I rambled about clock positions during sex. Good job.

The two lunchtime shift employees came in to cover my break and I asked Michael if he wanted to go somewhere else. He said he had a place that I would love. We walked the three blocks to Marigold’s bakery.

“Go find a seat out on the deck and I will now bring you a cake that will knock your socks off,” Michael pointed to a set of French doors. It was warm outside now that it was noon, so I didn’t mind sitting out there. I found a seat on the edge of the deck and texted Tammy while I waited.

He has forgiven me. Yay. ;-)

Really? Yippee! How did you do it?

Told him you were a super freak.

What!

LOL. It worked. He is interested and forgives me. You’re welcome.

Oh My God!

Gotta go he’s coming
.

Michael was headed over to the table carrying a tray of pure pastry heaven and little square samples of cake. A big grin spread across my face. I found myself bouncing slightly in my chair in anticipation. I saw a small, cocky smirk appear on Michael’s face. Okay, so he may be thinking that he still had a chance with me and that I was a little into him, but I was fully confident in Tammy’s seduction skills. She was a beautiful and available woman, so I was no big competition. I just wanted those little cake drops from heaven. Come to Momma, my cake babies!

He set the tray down and it was like chocolate Mecca.

Dear God, my mouth watered. I reached my hand out to snatch one of the little delights.

“Don’t touch,” Michael commanded.

I quickly pulled my hand back and grinned. “These look divine. I love chocolate.”

“All women do,” he stated in a matter-of-fact way.

“I don’t know. I have heard of one woman who can’t stand the taste of it. I am not sure if I believe it or not. Could be an urban legend or something. I’m not sure.” I rambled on as Michael divided and laid out the dessert spread.

“Okay, try that one.” He pointed to a raspberry covered cake.

“What is that?”

“Taste it. Here.” He tried to feed me but I quickly grabbed the cake from his hand.

“I can feed myself, thanks.” I popped the little square into my mouth. I wasn’t the type of girl who took dainty bites. Who has the time to be messing around with that? Honestly.

“Ewl.” I scrunched up my face. “Cheesecake. I don’t like cheesecake.”

He chuckled. “So, that eliminates these three. The one you popped entirely into your mouth was raspberry cheesecake. That one there is the citrus cheesecake and the brown is obviously the brownie cheesecake.”

I scrunched up my face again. “See, cheese and chocolate just sounds wrong. What else you got on that tray?” I could tell I was annoying him slightly by not playing along. Maybe he thought he could sway me to change my mind with this dessert play. I mean, I suppose he was pulling out his sexiest moves here, but I wasn’t with it. I already told him how I felt, and besides, I already had Eric. Not really. We couldn’t be together, but I loved him. I know Michael didn’t know that so maybe I was being unfair. I should tell him. I shrugged mentally.

“If you are trying to, you know, coerce me into sleeping with you it won’t work, okay, Michael? But if this is just a friendly thing then fine, I am cool with that.”

“Because of Tammy?” He leaned back and crossed his arms.

“No, because of me.” I paused. “And, yes, because of Tammy, too. She is a nice girl.”

He nodded. “Yes, girl. I want you. A woman.”

“I— Okay, yes, I may be a little more less girlish than Tammy. And if you wanted a hook-up, then once upon a time I would have been the person for it. You wouldn’t have even needed these cakes. It would have been hot, sweaty, easy, the best night of your life and over at the first sign of daylight, but I am not there anymore. You deserve better. Tammy rocks, and I’m in love with someone else.”

“Devon said you were single. Unless . . .” He trailed off. “You and Devon?”

I am pretty sure I visibly gagged. “Hell no! Yuck. Just know there is someone else. You’re a cool guy and I like you. Can we just hang out and leave it at that?”

He peered at me from under his heavy eyelids then reluctantly answered. “Fine. Yes. Shit! You can’t just tell a guy about the best sex of his life, dangle it in front of him, and then say access denied.” He huffed. “Tammy better be damn good in the sack.”

I laughed. “If she isn’t, I will join you two and help.”

He choked. “Really?”

“Hell no!” I cackled. “Can I still eat the cakes?” I pleaded sweetly.

He grinned. “This one is the triple chocolate mousse. I was saving it for last but the mood is blown anyway, unless you want the fig tart instead?”

I took the little chocolate square. “I don’t eat figs.” I popped the whole chocolate cake square into my mouth. “Mmmm. Oh my God, Michael.” I closed my eyes while savoring every bit of it as it melted against my tongue. Pure bliss. A mouth orgasm would be the only way to describe it with any justice.

Maybe I let out a soft moan. Hell, I don’t remember, nor did I care. I opened my eyes after the last tasty bit had dissolved in my mouth. Michael had that cocky, crooked, dopey, but attractive smile on his face.