Celtic Cross | #ONC2019

IV.

I couldn't sleep.

I was restless and anxious, and the lingering intoxication made everything worse.

The sun rose the next morning too soon, and noontime arrived too quickly.

And I was without a jacket. And my wallet.

Reality hit me like a ton of bricks once I forced myself out of bed and into the shower. The beautiful man I had all but thrown myself upon just happened to have a tattoo of the exact same card that was making my life a living hell.

The poor bastard didn't even get the meaning correct.

It means you better find who's supposed to break your heart and figure out how to break theirs first.

Well, there would be no hearts breaking now. My dramatic exit last night made sure of that.

As I walked towards the store, I wondered how much I would need to bribe Nick to retrieve it for me before Mac left the city. My unsuspecting victim was already waiting for me at the front counter as I entered Clear Portals, and his expectant look turned to one of genuine curiosity as I approached.

"You left your coat," he observed.

"Thank you, Captain Obvious. And I need you to get it back."

"No need." He shook his head and glanced over his shoulder. "He's brought it back."

I whipped my head up, following his gaze to the back of the store towards my corner. Just through the separation of the panels, I could see a broad shoulder, a curl of red hair...

"You let him in here?" I snapped, trying my best to keep my voice low.

"Of course I did. Was there a reason why I shouldn't have?"

"What if he was a serial killer?"

Nick raised a brow. "You seemed to make it out okay."

I gritted my teeth. "Why didn't you just take the jacket and send him on his way?"

"He made an appointment."

I blinked. "What?"

Nick pulled over the clipboard where clients signed in when they arrived. With a black-polished finger, he pointed to the first line.

Mackenzie Stewart.

"How long has he been here?" I murmured, keeping my eyes on the paper, reading the name over and over again.

"Since ten."

"And you didn't tell him I was coming in late?"

"Of course I did. He insisted on waiting."

"Shit," I whispered, looking once again to my cherry blossom-paneled corner.

"Siobhan, what's wrong?" Nick pressed.

But I didn't answer. I merely shook my head as I gathered my pride and moved back to my table.

He must have heard me coming because he turned in his chair, looking at me with those perfect eyes above those perfect cheekbones framed by that perfectly soft hair...

"Mr. Stewart," I said by way of greeting, sitting in my seat directly across from him.

He watched me, turning to face me once I was seated. "Ms. Brady."

I glanced up at him at that. "I never told you my last name."

"And I never told you mine, yet it seems we have our ways of finding information, don't we?"