Filthy Storm

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

FRANKIE

THE DINER BUSTLED with the familiar evening crowd. Frankie Vuitton flew from one table to the next in a blur of strawberry blonde hair and blue skirt, as she served milkshake after milkshake amongst the growing number of costumers.

"Frankie!"

She turned around to find her boss, Claude Ortiz, with a dark cloud seemingly swirling above his head. His shoulder-length, salt-and-pepper hair was mussed up more than usual. She jogged to the counter and greeted her boss with light enthusiasm, "You called my name, Claude?"

"Yes," Claude said with a panicked tone. "Our delivery guy canceled for tonight. You have a motorbike, right? I'd really appreciate it if you can deliver the cakes to The Plaza hotel."

Frankie whistled. "Swanky. I didn't know this diner's a huge name in town. I mean, we have a regular line of costumers every day, but The Plaza? Man, you must be sleeping on a bed of roses right now. What else do I not know—?"

"Frankie! Focus."

She stopped talking and stared wide-eyed at her boss, mouthing an oops before zipping her mouth imaginarily.

A lot of people had pointed out how talkative she was, but that was something she couldn't really let go no matter how hard she tried. She figured that she always had a bunch of things to say, and anyone who wanted to be friends with her could keep her with it or move on.

"They need it in twenty. Please go."

"Right on it, Claude." She gave him a salute and offered a high five, which Claude returned with reluctance.

She just chuckled before placing the orders on the back of her motorbike and driving to The Plaza hotel. The ride was short and before long, she was unloading the orders. A kitchen staff was taking out the trash when she walked to the back entrance.

He gestured to the door and told her that the head chef was already waiting for it. The kitchen staff jogged toward her when he finally caught up with her on the curve of the hallway. "It was Mrs. Storm's favorite."

She gazed up at him as he gave her a polite smile. The guy was half a head taller than her, his brown hair neatly covered in a hairnet. The slight lift on his plump lips gave him that American boy next door look.

"Mrs. Storm?" Frankie frowned. "And this cake, the matcha chocolate mousse is her favorite?"

He chuckled, his dark eyes twinkling in delight. "Yes. Is that a bad thing?"

"Not at all." She shook her head. "Who's Mrs. Storm?"

"The host of the charity gala where you need to deliver those cakes."

"Huh," Frankie exclaimed in disbelief. "The host of the charity gala at The Plaza hotel requested cakes from our diner. Wow. I mean, you know we serve the greasiest burgers and fries, and they are the best food you could ever taste in New York but—"

She stopped mid-sentence, realizing she was blabbering again. "Uh, sorry, sorry. I can be very talkative sometimes." A lie. "I hope you don't mind. This is a long hallway, you see and—"

The guy chuckled again as he ran his fingers through his dark hair. "I don't mind at all. I'm Adam, by the way."

She grinned at him. "Frankie."

"Well, Frankie, do you want me to hold those for you? If you need to prepare the receipt, that is."

• • •

"SO ADAM," Frankie began as Adam walked her to her motorbike. "How long have you been working here?"

Adam's eyes narrowed into slits as he thought about it. "Seven years, I suppose, since I migrated here in the city."

She nodded, her bottom lip jutting out. "I guess the payout is well?"

"Well enough to pay for an apartment and bills while still having spares for guilty pleasures." He tilted his head in curiosity. "Why, you looking for a transfer?"

"Maybe so." She waved her hand, brushing it off. "So, guilty pleasures, huh? What does this entail?"

He looked to the ground, his index finger lightly scratching the side of his forehead, as he glanced up at her. "It's not what you think it is, you know."

"We just met and you're already assuming the worst of me." She scoffed playfully. "This friendship isn't going well, Adam."

She put her helmet on and climbed on her bike. As she turned on the engine, Adam stepped forward and handed her a piece of paper. "Wait, uh, here's my contact number." He shrugged as if shy all of a sudden. "In case you need it in any way, hang out or need a ride from a ditch or something, use it."

Frankie hesitated. She studied Adam whose eyes remained earnest as he waited for her response. She gave him a grateful smile before taking it. A cheeky grin gracing Adam's face as she read his business info. "Adam's Fun Services, huh? I hope you won't regret this because I sure as hell will hold you to it."

"You better," he said with a chuckle. "Have a safe ride, Frankie."

Frankie only responded by offering a high-five.

• • •

What do you think about both characters so far? :')