Fourteen
I stood in front of the Society for Nonconformist Beliefs second-guessing my decision to ambush Sterling. I’d already admitted it was terrible plan and while I was fully aware I was not living in a rom-com, sometimes you had to do what you had to do to get closure.
Today was my closure.
I pushed through the doors of the building and right into a large open lobby filled with people. The smell of fresh brewed coffee hit me right in the face. I headed straight to the cart and was greeted by a disturbingly pretty but pierced all over worker.
“Whaddya want?” she barked at me, a bored expression competing with the sneer on her lips.
“Uh. Well, I’d like a Cafe au Lait and then I’d like to ask you a question.”
One pierced eyebrow rose. “I can do the coffee. Anything else is gonna cost ya.”
“Oh? And what’s the price?”
“Depends on the question.” She turned away and made my drink. Her hands were steady and her fingers were deft. Within less than a minute, she pushed a piping hot drink back to me and rattled off the price. I handed her a twenty and noticed she didn’t bat an eye or use a calculator to give me back exact change. I studied her a little more thoroughly. Few people were that good at math. I still counted on my fingers and I considered myself to be at an above average intelligence level.
“Good at math,” she said, her expression bored. She must get asked that question quite a lot. “So what’s your question?”
“Sterling Luna. You know where he is?”
A smirk appeared on her face. “That jackass? Yeah.” She hooked a thumb over her shoulder. “He should be in within the next fifteen minutes. Totally predictable, that guy. I don’t think he has a job.”
“Oh,” I said, as I sipped my coffee. Surprised, I pulled it away from my lips. “This is really good.”
“I know.”
I snorted with laughter. “So what do you want for that info?”
The woman shrugged. “I’ll give you that one for free.” She leaned forward. “But if you ever want to know who’s cooking the books in this town, come see me.”
I choked on my second sip. “Wow. How do you know that?”
She tapped the side of her temple. “Numbers. It’s kind of my thing.”
A thought occurred to me. “Say. How do you feel about metalwork jewelry?”
In response, she rolled up her sleeve to show off an impressive array of handmade bracelets.
“Nice.”
“Yeah. I get them from all over. Usually online but sometimes at markets and festivals. Why you asking?”
I dug around in my purse and pulled out a little jewelry bag I carried around with me. I had two pieces in here, some of my best work. I opened the drawstrings, shook the bag, and out tumbled a metalwork apatite ring and a hammered sterling silver bracelet. I held my hand out to her, and she took the jewelry, a look of reverence on her face.
“Ah, shit man.”
I grinned at her. “I make them. Out of my studio.” I rummaged in my purse again and found an old beat up business card. I pushed it across the counter to her. “Call me if you’re interested in doing my books.”
Her face fell.
I grinned at her. “And becoming an apprentice.”
The woman’s gaze met mine. “Really?”
“Yup. I’ve been thinking about hiring someone. I’m getting pretty busy. But I also need someone good with numbers.”
She shoved my business card down her bra. “I will definitely call you. Definitely. What was your name?”
