CHAPTER 3: Righteous fury
1200 Words
CHAPTER 3: Righteous fury
The Perch Cafe sat on the corner of Main Street, warm and golden behind fogged-up windows beaten by sparse raindrops. My hands were still trembling, and I didn't know if it was from the shock of almost being run over or just chill. Bess arrived at my table with a steaming cup of tea that I readily accepted. She sat down, and watched me take a sip of the hot beverage with worry written all over her face.
“What were you thinking, Em? I almost ran you over back there. When I left your place earlier, you were sitting on the couch,” she sighed. “What were you doing in the middle of the road?”
I looked at my bestfriend. She was still wearing the black silk dress she wore to the funeral earlier.
I set the cup down on the table. “The tea tastes different.”
“The new waitress has been experimenting with a new brew.”
I smacked my lips. I loved the honey and lemon combo.
Bess waved her hand. “Enough about the tea, Em. Tell me what happened?”
I stared at her. I was too tired and still trying to come back from what I saw, so I just passed the phone to her. She took it, her brows drawn together, and a question in her eyes.
“Look at the pictures,” I urged.
She took a look at the pictures, and her eyes went wide as saucers. Then, anger suffused her face. Like Hattie, Bess never trusted Jett.
“I knew it! That disgusting scumbag! How dare he! That must be why he never came to the funeral.”
I didn't reply to her. I just sipped my tea. I still felt like I was having an out of body experience.
She noticed my misery, and her face suddenly softened with sympathy. “Oh, my dear friend. I'm so sorry. That bastard does not deserve you.”
I bit out a harsh bitter laugh. “I have the most shitty life in Alderbay.”
Bess sighed. “Don't say that, Em.”
I snorted. “But it's true. My brother just died. My business is failing miserably. We're behind on our mortgage. I can't contribute to our household expenses. And my… my boyfriend didn't attend my brother’s funeral because he was busy f*****g and rutting inside another strange woman.”
I almost added the part about my conviction that my brother was murdered, and not a victim of a senseless robbery, but I held back that information for the time being. Maybe Hattie was right.
Bess was momentarily shocked. She quickly dropped the phone on the table and held my hands across the table.
“Listen to me, Em. You're just going through a phase. You just lost your brother. It's the grief speaking. It will be difficult, but it will get better. It will hurt less someday. The flowershop will begin to pick up soon. Maybe romance has gone on vacation in Alderbay,” she intentionally said in a lighter tone, making me chuckle despite myself.
“I don't know about that. I strongly suspect that Poppy paid Agatha the witch to cast a spell on my shop,” I quipped, making Bess laugh.
Poppy was my town nemesis. She seemed to make a career of making my life hell ever since she confessed her feelings to Jett, and he rejected her to date me.
“That woman is desperate, but I think even Poppy is wary of the old witch, Agatha.” Her tone turned more serious. “All I'm saying is, this too will pass. You'll get through this. Look on the bright side. You have me, and Hattie.”
My sister would have a field day saying I told you so. I don't see my very practical sister lending me a shoulder to cry on in the circumstances.
“That man does not deserve you. Good riddance, I'll say.”
I was about to reply, when the bell chimed, and Bess turned towards the door. “I'll get that.” She turned back to me. “I'll be right back.”
I nodded, and she left. I was happy for my best friend. Her cafe was doing well. I toyed with the thought of working here as a waitress if my shop eventually closed down. I knew that Bess wouldn't mind. For now, I needed money to hire a good private investigator if the police proved to be not helpful.
I was deep in thought, watching the tiny raindrops against the window when I heard a commotion.
Actually, a distinctive, unfamiliar voice.
A voice, low, sharp, controlled. The kind that carried authority even when whispering.
“For God’s sake, do you even know how to handle a cup?”
The sound of porcelain shattering broke the spell immediately after.
I-I’m so sorry, sir, I didn’t mean—”
“Clearly,” came that cold, clipped voice again.
No raised tone. No curse word. Just a quiet precision that somehow cut deeper.
The room went still.
I turned from the window, and looked up.
Bess was at her spot at the counter, hovering, an anxious look on her face, and a young waitress stood frozen beside a man whose back was turned to me, tall, broad-shouldered, posture like he owned the space he was standing in. I accessed him from where I sat: a dark coat, polished shoes, the kind of presence that didn’t fit in Alderbay.
And that voice…
It was calm, but laced with ice.
I didn’t know who he was.
But I already hated his tone.
He pulled a napkin from the counter, dabbing his cuff with surgical detachment. “You didn’t mean it. That seems to be everyone’s favorite excuse lately.”
The waitress stammered again, but he didn’t even look at her, just kept wiping the stain.
At this point, I set my cup down with a sharp clink. Something hot surged up inside me. Call it righteous fury, exhaustion, or even just the day breaking my last nerve.
But before I knew it, I was on my feet.
“Hey,” I said, stepping closer. “She said she was sorry.”
He turned, slow and deliberate.
And that was my first look at him.
Sharp cheekbones. Straight nose. Storm-gray eyes. Expression unreadable except for the slight arch of an eyebrow that screamed ‘You shouldn’t have spoken to me’.
He looked like someone carved out of frost and good breeding. I strongly believed that life had taught him patience was for other people. He gave me a fleeting glance, jaw tight, eyes shadowed by something I couldn’t name but instantly disliked.
“I wasn’t aware you were part of this conversation,” he said.
“I wasn’t,” I shot back. “But it sounded like someone had to stop you from being a total ass.”
Bess stiffened, eyes wide with shock. Beside me I heard the young waitress gasp.
Why were they surprised that someone was putting this arrogant man in his place?
And the bigger question: who was this man?
- Writer
