The Four Kings & Me

Chapter 7:

New York City May 16, 2022
Nvy's POV…

“What in the heck happened to you after I dropped you off at home last night?” Becca asked. 

“Life,” I responded with a smirk.

“From the looks of things, life kicked your ass.” She replied, forcing me down onto an empty chair in my office. “Nvy, you own a popular Café that's in the busiest part of town, you can't come to work looking any kind of way if you want to stay open. You have to come to work looking your best. Tell me one person that will want to eat here if you show up in front of them looking like you just rolled out of bed and came to work.” 

“Oh stop being so dramatic Becca, I'm dressed professionally, and my hair is slayed like it always is. The only thing that's different about me today is I'm not wearing any makeup, which I don't really need.”

“I agree, you do look gorgeous without any makeup on, but not today. Those big puffy eyes of yours look like you've been crying all night.”

“That's because I have.” 

“Why? Did something happen after I dropped you off at home last night?” Becca asked while grabbing the extra makeup kit that I keep stashed in my office for occasions like
this.

“No. I was just feeling a bit down about not being able to remember anything about my past,” I lied.

“Sweetie, I keep telling you, you'll remember your past when it's time. Have you ever thought that maybe you shouldn't remember?” Becca asked, hugging me from the back.  

“Perhaps you're right about both,” I replied, walking to the front of the café. 

“I know I'm right.” She jokingly blurts, then unzips the makeup bag.

“Give me this before you have me walking around here looking like a dead clown,” I uttered, taking the bag out of her hand. 

“If there's one thing that I know how to do, it's makeup. I'm a beast with it, and you know that.” She cockily replies at the same time the doorbell chimes. 

“Hello and welcome to Yota's Café.” Becca and I spoke at the same time the doorbell rang. Yasmin, a young college student I hired a month ago, walked through the door carrying a large package wedge between his left arm and side.

“Hello, ladies.” She greets us cheerfully. A sudden chill rushed through my body when she turned to me and said, “this package was left outside by the front door for you.”

“Becca, did you order something in my name again?” I asked, looking over my shoulder at her. I started up the coffee machine and placed the two trays of chocolate chip cookies I made before she arrived into the oven.

“Why would I put myself through the hassle of having to listen to fuss about me using your name again?” She asked, rolling her eyes while at the same time retrieving the package from Yasmin.

“Are you sure that you didn't?” I asked, placing the makeup bag on the counter, then walked over to where she was ripping the gold wrapping paper off the package. “No, not again,” I mumbled when my eyes landed on another magnificent painting of the same gorgeous man from the painting at the art museum and the one in the closet at my house. Just like before, his hypnotizing eyes were drawing me in and making me feel things I'd never felt before. Even though he was smiling in this painting, his eyes were screaming at me that he was lonely and unhappy, which in turn made me feel sad. He sat on the back of another black horse in a heavily wooded area. This place somewhat looked familiar to me, but I don't understand why that is, though. In his right hand he held a gold hairpin with a purple flower design on it and in his left one, he held on tight to the reins of the horse he was riding.