Taming His Stallion [BWWM]

34_Enough

The Private Eye I'd hired to keep an eye on my ex, about a week ago, indicated that he'd come by a few interesting and urgent breadcrumbs, after which we agreed to meet up at the café. A reasonable choice, given that I needed to grab a bite anyway.

"Hello, good morning. Welcome to Sade's. What can I get you today?" Chimed the cashier, only to receive a dispassionate expression.

"Can I have a regular coffee, black, two sugars and a BLT, please," I replied in an unamused tone, though the cashier tried to maintain a chipper attitude as she passed my bill to her colleague.

The server got to work, making my coffee as I waited off to the side to collect my purchase and another customer stepped forward to place their order.

As instructed, she prepared my coffee black with two sugars, and I eyed her all the while to ensure there wasn't the slightest deviation from what I paid for.

Shortly after finishing up with my coffee, she bagged my BLT and offered both to me with an equally chipper smile.

"Thank you," came my drab reply.

After leaving the counter with my breakfast in hand, I swept a glance around before resigning myself to a table, out on the elevated vacant dining area on deck.

Reclining into one of the chairs at the two-seater table, I took a sip of my coffee and the hot liquid streamed into my empty stomach, coaxing a burp from deep in my chest as I set my cup down.

It's a good thing I was alone at the moment, or I'd surely be the recipient of the stank-eye from other unimpressed patrons.

Sinking my teeth into my sandwich, I anticipated the P.I.'s arrival. My stomach seemed to relent, almost in relief, at the prospect of finally having some sustenance.

I rocked back in the chair, crossing my legs, one leg over the other while grasping my foot at the ankles over my knee.

Propping an arm against the table, I casually took in the soft sunshine streaming through the canopy of lush trees that jutted over the rails, just past the decking.

The wind picked up slightly, cueing a brief rustle of its leaves.

Grasping momentarily at my cup, I pressed the lid to my mouth, revelling in the refreshing intensity of the beverage as it slid smoothly down my throat.

And just like that, the brief calm was over, eclipsed by the seething temperament that seeped back in, though I'd tried my best to keep it at bay. This would eat at me until I got to the bottom of it.

Folding my arms, I noticed a few more guests filled out a few of the vacant tables out on deck.

About five minutes later, Mr. Harris arrived, scanning the premises before his eyes settled on me and he hastened to my table.

"Good morning, Mr. Andrews," He began, placing his bag on the table in front of him before looking up to meet my unbothered expression. "Ok, get right to it, I agree."

He reached into his bag and pulled out an envelope.

"I was careful to be in and out with minimal interference, and–well–I might as well just show you what I found."

Mr. Harris placed two enlarged photos of a cut out of an old newspaper clipping. It looked like it had been folded and unfolded many times and laid amongst an array of beauty products.

"I took note of the article and pulled it up on the internet," He handed me a print-out so I could closely examine the contents newspaper article myself.