Leather Jacket intended to be the death of Pretty Eyes. Like. Now.
The sharp pain, which, only seconds before threatened to bisect her skull, receded to a more manageable throbbing at its base. A familiar sense of distance overcame her, a 'there' but 'not there-ness'. She was viewing the entire restaurant from a long way off and in minute detail. She fell to earth with a thud and the absolute certainty Leather Jacket planned to kill Pretty Eyes
'Evil child, demon spawn.', her grandfather's voice whispered.
'Evil child, demon spawn.', her grandfather's voice whispered.
Not now Granpere, I'm busy.
'Witch, the Devil will drag you back down to hell where you belong.', filled with her grandfather's voice, her headache intensified.
In which case Grandpere, I'll see you when he does.
She made a supreme effort to wrench her focus back to the men at the table.
But not today.
The world shrank to the size of the table ten feet from where Amelie sat. Though neither was hard on the eyes; Amelie kept hers mostly to herself, letting her 'Spidey senses' (as Hosh and Colly called them) do the walkin'. There was something indefinable in the atmosphere surrounding them which teased the
at the edges of her subconscious. She resisted the temptation make this a rational process analyzing the incoming stimuli. This always went more smoothly when she shifted intellect into 'standby' and allowed her subconscious take precedence.
Leather Jacket and Birkenstock's. Body language. Birkenstock's angled toward ratty office. Leather Jacket, angle of repose. Pretty Eyes, Gideon's three hundred men. Her head. Her head!
Ammy leaned forward and bit down on a soft moan. Collette and Hosh paused in their enjoyment of their wine, excellent garlic fries and juicier subjects of who had done what to whom among their acquaintances. She was staring across the table at her friend Colette, who appeared to be speaking to her. But Amelie was powerless to disengage from her interior world to re-enter the exterior one. Finally Colette rolled her eyes and turned back to Hoshi.
Murder shrieks out.
Even as subconscious and conscious mind
engaged in the familiar battle of wills the conclusion was foregone. The certainty of Pretty Eyes peril rested within her like a stone. Ammy didn't want this, didn't want to involve herself. But she knew. With knowledge came responsibility. This man was in danger of losing his life, she could not sit by and do nothing
simply to serve her own peace of mind
A glance told her Pretty Eyes could handle himself. A word to the wise should be sufficient.
But how to get that word? How to convince him if she did? Too
late. She watched as Pretty Eyes readied himself to leave. Relief followed quickly on the heels of
horror as she realized Leather Jacket made no move to leave the table.
Ammy scribbled her
number on a scrap of paper and rose to follow the man ignoring the questioning
glances of her friends. He stood in the alcove next to the pay phones. She
caught his eye and smiled, aware that they could still be observed by their dinner companions through the glass doors. He
winked saucily at her. Encouraged, she approached and whispered urgently, “Act like we're flirting."
“Aren’t we?”, he whispered in return.
“No, not really.”
“Oh.”, he said, chuckling ruefully, “I must be losing my
touch.”, and aimed a dimpled grin at
her.
“Okay, dude, seriously? a) lame, and b) we haven’t got
time for that now.” Continuing to smile
at him-- through her teeth; she laid her
hand on his arm. “This is going to sound
completely insane. But I’m gonna ask you
to believe me, to trust I know what I’m talking about.”
He shrugged, still giving her the come-hither grin that was really
beginning to grate on her nerves.
“Your
friend.”, she took a deep breath and plunged. “He means to kill you. I’m pretty
sure he's got a shooter waiting for you to leave here.” She gazed earnestly up at
him. The icy eyes went positively glacial for an instant before returning to amorous. She should have realized; would have, but for the distraction of being completely freaked out.
He knew.
The shock of sudden knowledge, snapped her out of her own head, even silencing Granpere for the moment. "Crap."
That indefinable something that clung to
both men, suddenly appeared in Ammy's dictionary. Danger.
She began to draw away. Pretty Eye's smile
broadened as he trapped her hand on his arm beneath one of his own. “Not so fast sweetheart. Who are you?” As he
spoke, his fingers began to apply uncomfortable pressure to a small bone in her
wrist. She winced a little. “My name is Amelie.”
Impatience flashed in
his eyes. “Who are you working for?”
“Lumina Gourmet Foods.”
That
surprised him. He loosened his grip for an instant and she slid her hand away. He smiled down at her
indulgently. A false, false smile. And brushed her lips gently with his own in a
kiss. A cold, cold kiss. She stepped
away from him smiling. Playing out the
scene for the benefit of their audience on the other side of the glass.
Amelie sat smiling smugly, abandoning thought, intuition and shock; falling back on her actor's training. She played the part of 'Amelie who has met an interesting man'.
"Well?", asked Hosh.
Ammy took a sip of wine, "Well, what?"
Hoshi rolled her eyes and Colly took up the questioning. "What happened? You kissed him!"
Ammy shook her head, "He kissed me." She
had the sense to play the farce out to its conclusion. On auto pilot, her act must have been good enough for Colly and Hosh because they weren’t looking at her as if she’d completely lost her mind.
Peripherally, Ammy watched Pretty Eyes return to his table She
watched from the corner of her eye, flashing the scrap of paper at his companion. He winked over at her and she smiled and
turned away, practically wilting relief as she heard the distinctly masculine tone the
conversation had taken.
The relief was
short-lived. Her demons rose within, threatening to break her down
right there the restaurant.
Devil child.
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