She puts a chipped red fingernail on the table for a second, then holds out her hand.
“I’m Alyx,” she says.
I shake her hand.
“Hi. I’m Stark.”
Shit. I should have made something up. I really do need coffee. Or was I just caught off guard by talking to someone I don’t want to strangle?
“Nice to meet you,” she says.
“You too.”
“Do you work around here?”
“I’m just back in town and sort of freelancing for now.”
She screws up her face in a parody of deep concentration.
“Let me guess. You’re either a graphic designer or you do something in tech.”
“Are guns tech?”
Her mouth comes open.
“Oh my god. Are you a bodyguard?”
“Something like that.”
“That’s so hot.”
“Thanks, I guess.”
Alyx looks around the café.
“This is just my day job, you know. I’m really an artist.”
“Really. What kind of stuff?”
“Hot-rod and old-school pinup stuff mostly. Sometimes I do band posters and flyers.”
She’s wearing a sleeveless T-shirt and her arms are heavily tattooed with old flash designs. She points to a mermaid and a medusa lounging in a martini glass.
“These are both my designs,” she says.
“They’re great. Do you have a site where I could see more?”
“Sure. I’ll get you the info,” Alyx says, then points at me. “That’s four espressos, right?”
“Exactly.”
“Be back in a second.”
She goes to the barista and says something to him that I don’t think is my order. He looks in my direction and whispers something to her. They both laugh. I’m not sure what that means. Did I just get made as an impostor in my nice clothes and fake face? I’m tempted to leave, but the BE BACK SOON sign is still hanging on the door to Angelic Bazaar. If I leave, my only choices are to loiter on the street like a high school weed dealer or steal a car and hope I can find parking close enough to keep an eye on the store. I decide to stay in the café for now and hope that whatever it was they were laughing about doesn’t involve anyone spitting in my coffee.
Alyx comes back a couple of minutes later with two cups of thick coffee.
“Two double espressos,” she says.