Someone else rushed out the door, and I pulled up the binoculars to inspect the tiny speck from a distance. My adrenaline spiked as I glimpsed her delicate features before she jogged down the stairs. I expected her to get in the silver vehicle. But instead, she marched toward the exit and turned to head along the street with the shops. I waited until I could no longer see her and pulled out of the parking spot. Not too far down the road, I spotted the guy Sunshine had come with, but he emerged with another woman.

They stood closely at his vehicle, and I watched earnestly as the man placed a hand on the woman’s shoulder. She smiled at him and then walked away.

Interesting. The action wasn’t inappropriate, yet I got a distinct impression that it was. I filed the information away in my brain to use later.

Pulling away from the stop sign, I continued until I spotted Sunshine as she walked into the front door of a café. Like the rest of the stores and shops in this part of the city, it still had this old worldly feel with wide cream trim surrounding the black front door. The sign above announced the place was called Mode.

Parking the truck, I hopped out and casually walked down the street, finding a spot to sit at a bus stop that allowed me to stare through the windows of the café. Multiple people came and went, but Sunshine didn’t re-emerge. After an hour, I stood and jogged across the street. Taking advantage of the darkening sky, I pulled my hood up on the black sweater and tugged the hat down lower on my face as I slowly walked past the windows and stared inside. I paused at the menu that hung for those interested to read and pretended I was reading as I watched the people move around the space.

It was very busy in the café, and I was growing impatient with those continuously blocking my view. I was on the verge of walking inside when she stepped into my line of sight. A weird unease settled in my gut as I observed her through the window. A man that was either the owner or manager pointed at things as he spoke.

She was here for a job. Very interesting indeed. Why would a Quantico girl want to work with sludge-slinging, raging customers at a shitty-paying job?

I walked on down the street and then circled back to collect the truck. The feeling of little pins and needles started tingling in my hands. The sensation grew and physically itched at the thought of touching her skin.

My phone vibrated, and I picked it up to see a smiley emoji from Abel. I opened the text and swore.

A: Hey, bro, don’t forget you still need to get the new tattoo. Oh, and I grabbed pizza for dinner.