making it worse. I’d strip naked, but it’s not that kind of place. I’d probably get better tips that way, though."
He grumbled and shifted in his seat.
"Or not," I quickly added. He watched as I poured him a cup. "How was your day?" I asked playfully. No response. I paused, pretending like he was actually speaking and not just silently willing me to leave him alone. "You don’t say?" He was like a silent wall. Nothing amused him. Nothing intrigued him. "I swear, Stranger. You sure are chatty tonight."
The man had sweeping, light brown hair, a jaw sharp as a blade, and a scabbed cut just above his brow. He looked just a bit older than me, but carried this incredible weight of experience that made him seem timeless. He was handsome, in a devious kind of way.
Dangerous and observant, he sat in the same spot in the same booth every Thursday night. Despite the terrifying familiarity, I didn’t know his name. I didn’t know who he was. I just knew