Damian hates his boss, his doctor has just told him he's got an inoperable brain tumour, and he's about to meet the Devil and the girl of his dreams, when all he really wanted was coffee and a sandwich. You might say it's not his day... or it could...
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Chapter 11
Luke sat down across from me in my favourite booth. Erica had given as both a small glass of scotch and then made herself scare. Smart girl that Erica. Across from me Luke stared at the table top, gathering his thoughts or perhaps just wanting to avoid looking at me right now. I could feel the disappointment emanating from his every pore. Before he said anything, I thought I should nip this in the bud.
'Look, before you say...'
Luke cut me off.
'What were you thinking?' he said calmly. It was actually quite intimidating.
'I think you know what I was thinking,' I replied grimly.
'Hmph, well I guess this is my fault. I hadn't actually told you not to ... make any ... changes to the building.'
'Oh Erica told me,' I leaned forward, smiling like a madman.
'She did? And you just went on and did that anyway?'
'Yep.'
'And you think this isn't going to have repercussions?'
'Oh I know it will, but I don't care – I'm not going through this shit again!' I yelled, getting to my feet and lifting up my shirt to reveal my still healing torso. I also managed to scare half the café, who I could feel jump in fear.
'Take it easy there Damian, sit back down,' said Luke calmly, but I had seen the alarm in his eyes. Things were going my way now.
'Look, La Morte knows now that I am not to be fucked with. If she tries anything else, next time I'll take a chainsaw to the bannisters,' I growled.
'Where are you getting a chainsaw?' smirked Luke, but he looked a little surprised.
'Ever heard of online shopping? They deliver right to your door, anything you want.'
Luke looked at me in silence for a few minutes. There was no way I was saying anything more. I could do this all day. All day for 4 more months if I had to. I smiled to myself. I couldn't help it.
'You think this is funny?'
I gave him nothing.
'Ok, well I think you've made your point. Given the damage you've done here today I would be surprised if she messes with you again,' he said, gesturing to the walls, 'but she might be even angrier. If she is I can't help you.'
'You couldn't help me anyway!' I said, holding up my broken hand in defiance.
'Yes well...'
'Well nothing Luke, I own this place, at least for the next few months. I'll remodel the whole place if I damn well feel like it. If La Morte fucks with me again, I'll burn it to the ground and live in the ashes until my time is up!'
'I guess you could...' he trailed off. I had the system beat and he knew it. For the next few months I'd be happy camping, then it'd be no more cancer and back to reality.
'You know I could.'
'OK well, I'll leave you to it then,' he said slowly, getting up and walking out the door. He never even touched his scotch so I grabbed it with my good hand and downed it in one shot.
'Another!' I shouted happily, slamming the glass down on the table, 'and drinks for everyone, on me!' I added.
A cheer went up throughout the café. Erica laughed, and got busy with the drinks. I looked over at her and smiled. I think I had just fallen in love with the prettiest red head in town.
