The dog whisperer has large hands, and I note how thick and strong his fingers are. And the breadth and thickness of his shoulders, chest, arms and legs. Despite his outfit, he doesn’t look like your typical white-collar professional. More like a warrior trying to blend in with civilians. Like a lion feigning harmlessness among the impalas in that wildlife documentary.
Meanwhile, Eric keeps going on and on about how annoying it is that somebody got his name wrong. Does he know how annoying he is? I’d gratefully kiss the universe’s ass if that was the biggest problem in my life.
“Yeah, totally annoying,” Sean agrees in a tone that says he couldn’t care less.
Eric nods with a smug smile. “I mean, that’s why I gotta step up and do what I can to change the world for the better.”
“How? By correcting people when they say the wrong name?” Sean’s beyond bored now.
“I applied for an internship position at the Pryce Family Foundation. People there make a real difference, you know? Showing disadvantaged folks who can’t help themselves the right way to succeed. I’m just waiting for an interview.” Eric beams proudly, chest puffing out.
He sounds awfully confident. I hope he gets the internship, so he can show all those “disadvantaged folks” who don’t know any better than to call him Erik with a K. How dare they.
The dog whisperer’s still looking at the menu. Should I see if he has any questions about different types of coffee? It shouldn’t take this long for somebody to figure out which drink they want.
Eric finally turns and faces the man. “Hello, welcome to Coffee Heaven. Are you ready to order?”
Well, that was quick and friendly service from Eric. I shake my head inwardly, though. I should’ve said something. Hell, I was ready to take Mr. Dog Whisperer’s order before Eric.
The man nods, barely glancing at Eric.
“You ring it up, and I’ll show you what to do,” Eric says, gesturing at me to take over.
“Okay.” I look at the man who helped me earlier. “Hi. Welcome. I’m new, so I might be a little slow.”
“No problem,” he says, voice low and gravelly. Now that I’m not worried about being flash-raped, I realize there’s a trace of a foreign accent.
He’s barely glanced at me since coming into the shop. Does he not recognize me? Or maybe he does, but doesn’t care to acknowledge me one way or the other. I’m the desperate one, not him. He has his super dogs and that very imposing body.
If he’s a sign from the universe, I don’t want to miss a chance to connect in some way—I already botched one shot.
I should remind him of our previous encounter. “Thank you for helping me earlier.”
He gives me a steady once-over, his gaze coolly assessing. My face flushes. With pleasure or something else, I can’t say. But my heart is beating a little faster, and I realize adrenaline’s coursing through my body again, like I’m facing danger. His pale gray-blue eyes are somehow both sharp and placid, empty of emotion. I note with a shiver that they have the same characteristics as Roy’s eyes.
Except this man doesn’t have the creep factor my stepbrother radiates.
A man with eyes that empty and cold isn’t just some dog trainer. No, he’s probably a monster like Roy, except maybe with a sliver of human conscience underneath, where you can’t see it too clearly.
Maybe he really is a sign from the universe.
It can’t be a coincidence that he showed up to save me from the pervert, and then came to Coffee Heaven only hours later, on my first day here. I mean, what are the odds?
Excitement and anxiety shoot through me, making my hands clammy and shaky. “So…” I prompt when he doesn’t say anything.
“Standard drip coffee. Black,” he says.
He spent all that time to settle on that? “Um. Sure.”
Eric points out which keys to press, and I do it. The machine spits out the total and a space to input his name.
“Your name, please?” I ask, my heart pounding slightly.
Something coolly predatory and satisfied flickers in his eyes. But then it’s gone.
Probably imagined it, I decide. Why would anybody react like that over a barista asking his name for a coffee order? I’m just overly excited about finding the sign I’ve been looking for—and that the horrible mind-fuck Roy’s been putting me through might end in this city.
“Tolyan,” the man says.