drove down the street.
Twenty minutes later, after a trip to the police department, then a stop off at a news stand where he knew the owner by name, he finally came to rest at a coffee shop on Forty-second and Amber St reet.
Lillian watched from the roof of the building across the street as he took a seat at a booth near the window and proceeded to read the paper. Inside the building, his face was illuminated with bright light. He was a handsome man, a very striking man, tall, built well like a tuned athlete. His heart was strong, she thought, recalling the thick, heavy beats from the alley. She made up her mind . and she dropped the two stories from the roof to the pavement below as if she had simply stepped off of a curb and into the street. No one was about as she began to walk toward the coffee shop intent on easing her curiosity.
Jack Stone glanced up when the woman in black walked in. She was tall, built with slender muscle. Her thick, pale blonde hair hung in one straight length to nearly reach her firm backside. Her trim, athletic legs were incased within a pair of snug, black trousers that seemed to move with her as she approached the counter. They were the only two customers in the place, Jack noted. What was a woman like her doing out at this time of the night and alone? She didn’t look like a hooker or a druggie, he reasoned. No, she seemed very put together and not just physically. Her clothes, though snug, seemed of high quality and there was something about the way that she moved, with such ease and grace that made him think she came from money. The pimple-faced boy at the counter took her order, and she paid him with a twenty before taking her black coffee and turning from the counter to face him. Jack nearly sucked in his breath at the sight of her face, so pale and lovely with high cheekbones, full fleshy lips, and almond shaped, pale blue eyes that were wide and positively breath-taking as they lit upon him.
“Good evening, ma’am.” he heard himself saying before he could stop himself. His heart , as if it had a mind of its own, leapt and sped away from him, as if it knew something that he didn’t.
She didn’t respond. Instead, she walked toward him on long, stunnin g legs. Her breasts, he noticed, were full, not overly large, or overly small, but seeming to fit her slender body to perfection. His breath caught in his throat as the sweet scent of her washed over him.
“Can I help you?” Jack found himself asking nervously as he sat his coffee aside when she came to a stop before his table.
“I know you.” she whispered in recognition as she stared at his face as if she did indeed know him, but couldn’t quite figure out where she had met him before.
“I think I would recall.” Jack grinned suddenly, but those pale blue eyes were still fastened quite seriously upon his face as she studied him.
“You’re up awfully late?” he put to her, and he motioned to the seat across from him to which she didn’t hesitate to take.
“Things are much quieter at night.” she said by way of explanation.
“And more dangerous.” Jack warned.
“I suppose.” She agreed. “You’re from New York, originally?” she asked, and he couldn’t help but to smile. She really did think that she knew him, but God, he would have remembered this woman, he swore to himself. She looked as if she had been ripped from a swimsuit ad, only she was fully dressed. He frowned at the thought. He was being ridiculous.
“My name is Jack.” He told her, and her eyes seemed to flare.
“Jax.” She leaned closer to him, speaking the name like an endearment, as if he were a long lost friend that she had thought never to see again. He smiled awkwardly.
“No. I’m afraid you got that wrong, ma’am. It’s Jack. Jack Stone.” he corrected, and she leaned back away from him in disappointment.
“Oh.” she whispered regretfully . and he hated to have let her down.
“I assume I resemble this Jax person?
Twenty minutes later, after a trip to the police department, then a stop off at a news stand where he knew the owner by name, he finally came to rest at a coffee shop on Forty-second and Amber St reet.
Lillian watched from the roof of the building across the street as he took a seat at a booth near the window and proceeded to read the paper. Inside the building, his face was illuminated with bright light. He was a handsome man, a very striking man, tall, built well like a tuned athlete. His heart was strong, she thought, recalling the thick, heavy beats from the alley. She made up her mind . and she dropped the two stories from the roof to the pavement below as if she had simply stepped off of a curb and into the street. No one was about as she began to walk toward the coffee shop intent on easing her curiosity.
Jack Stone glanced up when the woman in black walked in. She was tall, built with slender muscle. Her thick, pale blonde hair hung in one straight length to nearly reach her firm backside. Her trim, athletic legs were incased within a pair of snug, black trousers that seemed to move with her as she approached the counter. They were the only two customers in the place, Jack noted. What was a woman like her doing out at this time of the night and alone? She didn’t look like a hooker or a druggie, he reasoned. No, she seemed very put together and not just physically. Her clothes, though snug, seemed of high quality and there was something about the way that she moved, with such ease and grace that made him think she came from money. The pimple-faced boy at the counter took her order, and she paid him with a twenty before taking her black coffee and turning from the counter to face him. Jack nearly sucked in his breath at the sight of her face, so pale and lovely with high cheekbones, full fleshy lips, and almond shaped, pale blue eyes that were wide and positively breath-taking as they lit upon him.
“Good evening, ma’am.” he heard himself saying before he could stop himself. His heart , as if it had a mind of its own, leapt and sped away from him, as if it knew something that he didn’t.
She didn’t respond. Instead, she walked toward him on long, stunnin g legs. Her breasts, he noticed, were full, not overly large, or overly small, but seeming to fit her slender body to perfection. His breath caught in his throat as the sweet scent of her washed over him.
“Can I help you?” Jack found himself asking nervously as he sat his coffee aside when she came to a stop before his table.
“I know you.” she whispered in recognition as she stared at his face as if she did indeed know him, but couldn’t quite figure out where she had met him before.
“I think I would recall.” Jack grinned suddenly, but those pale blue eyes were still fastened quite seriously upon his face as she studied him.
“You’re up awfully late?” he put to her, and he motioned to the seat across from him to which she didn’t hesitate to take.
“Things are much quieter at night.” she said by way of explanation.
“And more dangerous.” Jack warned.
“I suppose.” She agreed. “You’re from New York, originally?” she asked, and he couldn’t help but to smile. She really did think that she knew him, but God, he would have remembered this woman, he swore to himself. She looked as if she had been ripped from a swimsuit ad, only she was fully dressed. He frowned at the thought. He was being ridiculous.
“My name is Jack.” He told her, and her eyes seemed to flare.
“Jax.” She leaned closer to him, speaking the name like an endearment, as if he were a long lost friend that she had thought never to see again. He smiled awkwardly.
“No. I’m afraid you got that wrong, ma’am. It’s Jack. Jack Stone.” he corrected, and she leaned back away from him in disappointment.
“Oh.” she whispered regretfully . and he hated to have let her down.
“I assume I resemble this Jax person?
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