Sins & Needles(6)

“Now,” he said, making his way to the sliding door that led into the date palm grove, “I’ve got to make sure my livelihood is alive. I’ll see you later.”

I watched him go, vowing to myself that I’d never be in financial stress at his age, no matter what the cost. Then I turned and left the house. I had some jobs to apply for.





CHAPTER TWO





I drove back to town in pure frustration, my ever-present anger swarming up my throat. I gobbled more Kava pills with one hand and switched off my music with the other. My mood didn’t suit my favorite playlist anymore. This wasn’t about desert life and hope and optimism. This was about shit I had no control over. My fucking parents. What the hell did they know about me and Javier, anyway? That was a very long time ago and it wasn’t as simple as a man and woman breaking up, she taking his car and money. This wasn’t a Carrie Underwood song. This shit went fucking Anthrax for a while. It still kind of was.

Not many people had an ex that would probably shoot them in the head if they ever found them. And I meant that in the most literal sense.

As I was wondering if Javier would still bother looking for me after all these years, I pulled the car (okay, his car) up along one of the many trendy looking cafes that peppered the street. I couldn’t use any of my past references but I knew my way around an espresso machine. I had a new plan, since my uncle speared my original one through the heart. I’d stick around here for a while, make enough money, and then head out on the road. No, I didn’t know where I was going to stay after he kicked me off the date plantation, but I knew I’d figure something out. I always did.

I turned off the engine and let the heat build up inside for a few moments. It was just past one and my stomach was eating itself. I took in a few deep breaths through my nose and wondered if it were possible to overdose on Kava. Technically, the root was a mild narcotic but you could make anything beneficial in small doses. I missed the days when it only took a pill to curb my anger and anxiety. Now it took too much.

I grabbed my purse, a nice leather thing with tassels, and sashayed my way into the coffee shop, the door opening with the tinkle of a bell. I wasn’t wearing a sundress like most of the women in the shop, but my jeans were clean, my boots were shiny, and my bright yellow tank top showed off my fading summer tan. I had brushed my hair in the car, smoothing it down to acceptable levels, and did a quick swipe of makeup over my lids. I wasn’t anything flashy, I was just pleasant enough to sail under the radar.

Shivering a bit at the air conditioning, I did a quick survey of the room. There was an older couple in the corner, relaxing in armchairs, the silver-haired woman with cat-eyed glasses doing a crossword or Sudoku, her husband reading a book. Everyone else was pretty young. There were three teenage girls giggling in the corner over blended coffees, wearing tube tops and shorts that made me envious. A smattering of college-aged kids were spread about, typing on their laptops, earphones in their ears, while two businessmen were making awkward small talk over even smaller cups of espresso. Pretty standard stuff. Even John Mayer was playing over the speakers, but the new Mayer, after his years of exile on a ranch.

I went up to the cashier, a petite woman with a bright smile and skin that matched the smooth surface of the cappuccinos she was doling out with supernatural swiftness.

“Welcome to Currently Caffeinated,” she said, and as if her smile couldn’t get any bigger, it did. My lie detecting skills told me she was one hundred percent genuine. “What can I get for you?”

I tried to match her, teeth for teeth. “A medium soy latte, please. And a job application.”

The girl’s smile faltered slightly as she punched in the code on the register. “I’m sorry, Ma’am. We aren’t hiring at the moment. But the Christmas season will be here soon and we’ll be taking on more people then. Would you like to fill out an application?”

How desperate did I want to look? Was I even going to be in Palm Valley next month? Was I even going to be in Palm Valley by the end of the week?

Still, I found myself nodding, with the smile frozen on my face. She passed me the paper and I gave her money, making sure to tip her extra.

“Your name?” she asked, her pen poised and ready on the cup.

“Ellie,” I answered. To my own ears it sounded fake, but she just nodded and scribbled it down.

I walked down the bar and loitered inconspicuously near the counter while I waited, looking over the form. I could easily forge my past references if I needed to. I had some friends spread out all over the country for just that kind of thing, and then when they called me in for an interview, I could show them how skilled I was.