Devilish Deal by Jenna Wolfhart

4

The little cafe sat on a tree-lined street in the nicest part of Clinton Hill and on the ground floor of a brownstone. Potted plants dotted the sidewalk, along with circular wrought-iron tables. Every one was packed with customers sitting in the sun and taking advantage of the warm summer day. I squared my shoulders and pushed open the door. A little bell jangled to announce my arrival.

Two harried baristas glanced up from behind the counter that curved along one wall. A line of customers trailed through the building, though most of the tables inside were vacant. Tiny, multi-colored mason jars lined the walls, and old pallets hung from the ceiling by mismatched chains and ropes. The scent of coffee wafted into my nose in a sudden blast of aromatic caffeine.

Noah popped his head out of a door in the far corner. He motioned me forward. I took a deep breath, wound my way through the crowd, and joined him in the back. He gave me a once-over, taking me in. Unlike last night’s interview, I’d opted for a nice pair of black slacks, a sleeveless, button-up shirt that covered my belly button, and a basic pair of flats.

“You look nicer than usual,” he said.

“Gee, thanks.”

I knew he didn’t mean it as an insult, but still. Way to make a girl feel great about herself two seconds before an important interview.

He led me down an empty hallway and stopped outside of a back office where an older man sat inside, rustling through a mound of paperwork. A pair of glasses perched on his thin nose, and the overhead florescent light gleamed off his bald head.

Noah knocked lightly on the open door. “Mia McNally is here for her interview. Mia, this is Abe, the owner of Funky Froth.”

God, what a dumb name.

I pasted on a fake smile and edged into the room, perching on a small folding chair across from Abe’s desk. He glanced up at me, put down his stack of papers, and gave me a blank stare before pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“Nice to meet you, Mia.” He nodded at Noah, who left us to it, closing the door behind him. “Noah tells me you’re interested in the barista opening.”

“That’s right. I’ve always wanted to work in a cafe.” Lies, lies, lies. I had nothing against coffee, but it wasn’t my top choice of beverage.

“I see.” He shuffled through the papers, pulled out a notepad, and clicked his pen. “Well, do you have any experience working in a cafe?”

I cleared my throat. “Not as such, but I’m a quick learner. And I was a server in a restaurant back home.”

“Back home.” He clicked his pen twice more. “How many years did you work in the restaurant?”

“Four years,” I said. “All throughout college.”

“I see. And what have you been doing the past two years? Have you had a job since graduation?”

My heart flipped in my chest. How did he know I’d graduated two years ago? I’d brought my resume with me, but he hadn’t asked for it yet. Had Noah told him? Serena and I had been in the same class until she’d graduated early to go to law school, and he knew we’d grown up together, so he must have put two and two together. Still, why would he have mentioned that to Abe?

Unease slithered down my spine like a snake ready to strike. That old familiar feeling squeezed my heart. The realization that the person who sat across from me knew exactly who I was. When I’d moved to New York City, I’d thought I’d left that world behind, but it had followed me here. It dogged my steps on the sidewalks. It lurked in the shadows behind the lampposts. And it sat before me now with a pair of wiry glasses and a gleaming bald head.

Serena had asked me why I wasn’t more freaked out by the serial killer roaming the nighttime streets, and this had a lot to do with it. I was far more scared of my past. It had a tendency of dragging me into the depths of hell.

“I took a little break after college,” I finally said. “People in the UK like to call it a gap year.”

“We’re not in the UK.” He tapped his pen against the notepad. “And you took two years instead of one.”

Dammit. Gritting my teeth, I leaned back in the chair and fought the urge to tell this guy to shove his preconceptions about me right up his ass. “My family experienced a few personal issues during that time.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“Not really.”

“I see.” He sighed and dropped the notepad onto his cluttered desk. “Mia, I agreed to this interview because Noah is one of our best baristas, and I understand you’re old friends with his girlfriend. But I would be lying if I said I didn’t have concerns about these personal issues of yours. With everything going on in the city right now, particularly in Hell’s Kitchen, I’d be remiss to take you on. Noah mentioned you were there last night.”

I bristled, hastily pushing up from the chair. “Wait. You mean the Hell’s Kitchen murders, don’t you? Are you suggesting I have something to do with those deaths? You think I’m killing those girls?”

He folded his arms. “I’ve read the articles. I know you only escaped a prison sentence because of a technicality.”

I fisted my hands on his desk and leaned toward him. “The reason I didn’t get convicted is because there was zero evidence against me.”

“Then, why did you refuse to testify?”

I flushed and pushed away from the desk, my heart hammering my ribs. “I’m not going to stand here and get berated by you about something you know nothing about. I’ll assume I didn’t get the job. Fine with me. I wouldn’t. want to work in this shit-hole anyway. I hate coffee.”

With that, I whirled on my feet and threw open the door. I stomped down the hallway past Noah and his shocked Pikachu face. I tried to rustle up a measure of guilt. He’d done me a favor, and things would no doubt be awkward next time he visited Serena.

“What the hell did you just do?” he asked, anger turning the edges of his words to steel. “You know I had to pull some strings to get you this damn interview.”

“Well, you shouldn’t have bothered if you were going to tell your boss about my past.” I narrowed my eyes, and the guilt raced away as fast as Usain Bolt. He’d completely sabotaged any chance I had.

Noah folded his arms. “I didn’t tell him. He looked you up, and then asked me about it. All I did was tell him the truth.”

All the blood rushed from my face to pool around my feet. “The truth? So, you think I did it.”

“I think Serena loves you, and it’s blinded her.” He regarded me carefully. “Did you know she’s put her life on hold because of you? She refuses to move in with me until you get your shit together, and she’s taking a lot of flack from her bosses, too. They haven’t put her on a few high-profile cases because they don’t want some clever reporter to find the link between their firm and you. As long as you’re living with her, you’re holding her back.”

“What?” I took a step back as the world tilted beneath my feet. “That can’t be right. Serena would have told me.”

He lifted his brows above his glasses. “You really think she’d tell you and hurt you like that? Serena is loyal to a fault.”

I closed my eyes as the pain wrapped around my heart. He was right. There wasn’t a chance in hell my best and oldest friend would ever tell me she suffered because of her association with me. She’d do anything to protect me. And I’d do the same for her. We’d always stood beside each other despite it all, and now she was paying for it.

“You better get out of here,” Noah said, his voice cutting through my thoughts. “My boss is coming, and he looks pretty pissed.”

“Yeah, whatever,” I mumbled, turning away.

“Oh, and Mia?” he said just as I started toward the door. I paused but kept my gaze forward. I couldn’t bear to look at him right now. “Think about what I said. If you care about Serena the way she cares about you, you’ll find a way to move out of her apartment.”

Blinking back the tears, I raced out of the cafe and onto the sidewalk. Cars rushed past. A group of teens stumbled by, laughing uproariously. The world continued on while my whole life was stuck in standstill. How would I ever get past that damn manslaughter charge? My only two friends in the entire world were my next door neighbor from elementary school, whose life I was ruining, and a pigeon who only liked me for my food.

My life had gone to hell in a hand-basket.

* * *

Iwandered around the neighborhood for a few hours before returning to Serena’s apartment. She’d be at work, but I still couldn’t face the tiny couch jammed into the tiny room. It felt like a cage, one I would never escape. The judge may have acquitted me, but I’d still ended up in another form of jail. And it felt like I was sentenced to life.

Back at Serena’s, I changed into sweats, spooned out a massive bowl of ice cream, and settled onto the couch for some binge-watching. In the back of my mind, I knew I should power up my laptop and continue my hunt for a job, but it felt pointless right now.

As the episodes flashed before my eyes, I let my mind get lost in a world full of cakes, competitions, and British accents. A few drops of chocolate ice cream splashed onto my cream sweatshirt, and I found myself with my tongue halfway to the stain before I realized exactly what I was doing. God, I was a mess.

I paused the bakeoff show and drifted into the tiny cubicle of a bathroom to hunt for something to clean my shirt when Serena’s door buzzer blared through the quiet apartment. I jumped, knocking my head against the medicine cabinet. Pain flickered through my forehead. Wincing, I pressed my hand against my head and found a massive bruise already forming.

I peered at myself in the mirror. Yep, there was a lump, and it was already turning blue.

Sighing, I padded out of the bathroom and pushed the intercom. “Who is it?”

A hissing crackle followed, and then his voice. The one I’d never forget. “It’s Asmodeus. Is this Mia? I need to speak with you for a few moments.”

I stumbled back and stared at the intercom like it would bite me if I got too close. Heart shaking, I crossed the floor and poked my head out the window. I spotted him through the slats in the fire escape. There he was, wearing those low-slung jeans and a fitted black shirt. In the full light of day, he looked even more mouthwatering than he had in his shadowy club.

How the hell was that possible?

Suddenly, he dropped back his head and gazed up at me. “Hello, Mia. Are you going to let me in?”

“Fuck.” I ducked back inside and crouched out of sight. I couldn’t let him see me like this. I was wearing stained sweats and my forehead was turning blue. I looked like hell.

Why does that matter?!

This was the asshole who hadn’t given me the job because I looked…well, like this, probably. Ugh! Why was he even here?

“Mia!” he called out. His voice sounded like it was right by my ear. I jumped and darted away from the window, trying to still my racing heart. Maybe he’d come here about the job. Not that I wanted it anymore. “Just give me five minutes of your time.”

As much as I wanted to turn him away, my curiosity poked up its eager little head. Five minutes. And then he had to go. Before I could rethink my decision, I pushed the button and let him into the building.