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I groaned as my head fell into my hands. The familiar pounding told me a migraine was around the corner.
My instincts had jacked me up that morning, making me get all worked up — likely over nothing.
Luca’s club, my captain’s questions, my father — each one had sparked some suspicion inside of me, stirring doubts and raising questions.
Was the weight of this job getting to me? Or was it just my nature to question everything?
Leaning back in my chair, I gazed at the coin once more.
With a determined exhale, I straightened my posture.
I needed to get to work. On my actual case.
But I couldn’t concentrate no matter how much I tried.
“That’s it,” I sighed. “Coffee. I need coffee.”
My eyes burned from exhaustion. I hadn’t slept a full night in weeks.
Coffee was something I needed. So, with a newfound sense of purpose, I rose from my desk and snatched my bag and hoodie. I yawned widely, carefully tucking the coin back into the pocket of my jeans.
I wasn’t sure I could get the brown caffeine-laden drink in me fast enough.
Skipping the cramped elevator, I decided to take the stairs. Elevators were not my thing.
Too many bad things happened on those things.
I hurriedly descended to the bottom floor and stepped out into the boisterous street of lower Manhattan.
Queens.
One of my favorite areas in New York City.
It was also home to some of the best damn coffee in the world.
Every street corner had coffee shops. I had been in most of them. And right now, I was on a mission.
I didn’t need the best coffee.
I just needed the fastest and the closest.
And I did meanneededit.
Right then. Right there.
I knew exactly where I was going. Cafe Bloom.
The aroma of freshly brewed coffee called to me as soon as I crossed the street.
“Thank God,” I sighed as soon as I opened the door and the jingling bell sounded out.
Ordering my favorite — a mocha espresso latte — I allowed the familiar warmth to seep through my fingers as I cradled the cup. I sipped slowly and let my gaze wander, taking in the sights and sounds of the city around me. And that's when it caught my eye: an old-fashioned collector’s store across the street.
I wonder, I thought to myself, remembering the silver coin in my pocket.
My feet led me toward the shop almost involuntarily, curiosity overpowering any hesitation I might have had.
I knew I had to work. But I also wanted to know a little more about my mystery man, and wondered if this coin might have held something interesting.
