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“May I help you, sir?” Virgil asks from behind the register.
It’s midafternoon and Just Brew It is practically empty. We’re using the lull to clean and restock, but Virgil’s tone makes it clear he doesn’t want me talking to Pike, even if I’m working at the same time.
“I’m good, Virgin,” Pike says with a wave.
Angie bursts out laughing while wiping down the espresso machine, clamping a hand over her mouth. Virgil narrows his eyes at Pike and points to his name tag.
“It’s Virgil,” he says firmly.
Pike wrinkles his nose and shakes his head. “Sounds like a nickname. I’m no good with those, Virgin.”
I’m looking down at the mop bucket since I can’t keep the grin off my face. This is the best ten seconds I’ve experienced since I started working here.
“You can either order or leave, sir,” Virgil says, clearly agitated. “This is a place of business.”
“I’ll take a water.”
I finish mopping the lobby as Pike pays for a bottle of water and Virgil begrudgingly hands it to him.
“I don’t suppose you’re due for a break?” Pike says.
“Already took it.”
He looks down at his T-shirt and then back up at me. “I grew up in Kansas City, Kansas. I love baseball and the Royals are my team.”
“Good to know,” I say, pulling the mop bucket toward the opening that leads behind the counter.
“Now you,” he says, unscrewing the cap of the water bottle and taking a sip.
What can I tell him about me that’s interesting? I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind.
“I have an art history degree from UCLA.”
Pike’s brows shoot up. “That’s really cool.”
“I have to go mop the back room.”
His shoulders drop slightly with disappointment. “When do you work tomorrow?”
“I’m off tomorrow.”
“Next day?”
I try to recall my schedule. “Six in the morning until noon.”
“Shit. I’ll be on the road. The day after that?”
“Nine to three.”
“See you then.”
I just smile at him as I roll the mop bucket into the back room. My phone buzzes from inside my pocket with a text, and I pull it out quickly to read it before Virgil catches me.
Rue: Dean was served an hour ago. One step closer.
I breathe a sigh of relief as I put my phone back into my pocket. This day just keeps getting better.
Chapter Ten
Pike
* * *
“Can we go see the lights?” My niece, Jasmine, asks this question on repeat as she launches herself into my arms for a hug.
She slams into my chest just as I wrap my arms around her, standing up and lifting her from the ground as I say, “You bet. And what has your mom been feeding you? You’ve grown about a foot in the last few months!”
Jasmine unwraps her arms from around my neck and leans back so she can look me in the eye. “Will I be taller than you soon?”
I laugh. “You’ll never be taller than Uncle Pike.”
“Mom says you eat all your vegetables.” She wrinkles her nose. “Is that true?”
“I don’t just eat all my veggies. I eat extra,” I say, giving her a serious look. “I had broccoli for breakfast today.”
She turns her face to the side and says, “Ew.”
“I was waiting for you to get here so I could ask if I have broccoli breath,” I tease. “Put your nose right up to my mouth so you can check.” I pretend to breathe all over her.
“No!” She wriggles in my arms, trying to get down.
Kylie approaches us, grinning. “Hey, sorry I had to run to the bathroom before I could say hi. You know I have that thing about airplane bathrooms. I feel like I’ve been holding it forever.”
I set my niece down and embrace my sister, whose long blond hair is now cut just above her shoulders.
“I like your hair,” I tell her.
“Thanks.” She holds on to the hug for an extra couple of seconds and then pulls back and smiles up at me. “I figured it was time for a change.”
“She still looks like my mom, though,” Jasmine says, sliding her hand into Kylie’s.
I smooth a hand over my niece’s hair and say, “Yes, she does.” Then I reach for the bag Kylie has slung over her shoulder and say, “Let me get that.”
She gives me a grateful look as she passes it over. “We have a checked bag, too.”
“Let’s head for the baggage claim.” I put the strap of the bag over my shoulder and start walking in the direction of the baggage claim. “Are you guys hungry? You want to get some lunch?”
“I’m hungry,” Jasmine says.
“When will Mom arrive?” Kylie asks as we walk.
“This evening. She got a late start.”
When I got drafted into the NHL, I told my mom and sister I’d cover the cost of plane tickets anytime they wanted to come visit me, or if they wanted to meet me at an away game. Mom’s afraid of flying, though, so she drives her Nissan sedan to Vegas when she visits.
