Mercenaries Pursuit

Chapter 2

Yawning, I glanced at my phone. And now I'm late. Great. Guess I'm running to work.

A hint of dread washed over me as I approached the diner. In the window, my boss stood. Miss Taylor was a grumpy old lady, who happened to own one of the finest 24 hours diner in the city. But she was also known for her temper. She was polite with her customers and staff, and she treated you well- so long as you treated her well. Ms.Taylor took crap from nobody, and I was no exception.

Ms. Taylor knew what my main job was. I did several gigs with her son Eddie when I first moved to Yorkton. He had told Ms. Taylor all about me, and we ended up eating at her diner every Saturday night for dinner. Tragically, he passed away in a gig-gone-wrong. In my line of work, it wasn't uncommon. You learn to not get attached to people. Still, he was my friend. I came to the diner a few days after his Eddies funeral, almost hoping that by some miracle he would be there in our booth like he always was. Instead Ms. Taylor was there, staring out the window, clutching his favorite hat to her chest. I slid into the booth across from her. We talked about Eddie for a while, swapping stories and memories. Something changed that day, and from that moment on she treated me as one of her own.

Which of course meant she gave me absolute hell when I was in trouble.

Ms. Taylor crossed her arms as I approached, eyes narrowed threateningly. "I don't suppose you have a good reason to be late today, do you? Because I would love to hear it." "I'm sorry! It wasn't on purpose, werewolves-"

I was cut off by a wave of her hand. Pinching the bridge of her nose between two fingers she sighed, "I trust you had a valid reason for being late, and i trust you will not be late again this week. If you are, consequences will be laid out. Now, you look a sight. Go clean up and get to work."

I shot her a smart-ass grin, and ducked past into the kitchen to clean up. Upon checking my reflection, I had to agree. I did look a sight... For my credit, I was rudely forced to get out of bed rather abruptly this morning. I ran my fingers through my tangled blonde hair, tying it back smoothly. Next was a quick swipe of mascara and chap-stick, which I conveniently kept in the staff bathroom for moments like this.

Done. Call me low maintenance, but I don't have time for excessive makeup. Besides, I have yet to find make up that looks good with blood and sweat anyway.

"How bad did the old bat chew you out?" Jackson asked, as I re-entered the kitchen. "Jackson King! What if she heard that?" I warned.

"Just because you're afraid of her, doesn't mean i have to be. Besides, I'm her best cook!" Jackson said. "Please. I am not afraid of her. I do have a healthy level of respect for the woman who employs me however, and her terrifying ability to make me feel guilty about every past transgression with a single disapproving glance." I added, only half joking.

Jackson smirked, "I donno... Sounds like fear to me!" I pretended to think about that for a moment, "Then yes, I am absolutely afraid of her. And you should be too, Mr. I-forgot-to-place-the-order-for-next-weeks-produce-drop-off."

He looked at me confused. Sighing, I pointed at the produce clipboard which was still hanging on the wall by the fridge. That should have been given to the produce delivery guy yesterday.

Jackson cursed, "I thought I gave him that! She is going to KILL me."

"Relax. Ill drop it off on my way home tonight. I pass the store we get deliveries from on my way home."

Jackson closed his eyes, clutching his chest dramatically. "You are a goddess. Truly. I love you. Bless. Praise."

"You forgot 'Amen'." I added.