Monica strutted to the front counter of the cafe. Toward her victim.
Briley's words still buzzing in her ears. The barista is still new and young, he goes to the back room every fifteen to twenty minutes to bring out deliveries and restock the coffee stuff. This place has a strict rule of no customers in the back. If I'm caught, game over. You know what to do.
She gave a little toss to her head, pulling the ribbon out of her hair so that the dark curliness of it framed her features. She bit her bottom lip lightly to give it a slightly puffy look. She knew she had a mouth to keep anyone awake at night, the upper lip was beautifully sculptured. A little sensitive, a whole lot sensual.
"Hi!" Monica chirped, leaning against the counter and plastering on the sweetest smile she can.
The barista turned from the cappuccino machine, a friendly greeting poised on his tongue, then he saw who the voice belonged to and his expression changed. He blinked, opening and closing his mouth several times as if he was trying to speak. Gotcha!
Monica tilted her head, eyes fleeting quick to the name tag on his grotesque yellow polo.
"Jimmy is it?" She said, fingertips taping on the counter top, "how's your day going?"
Briley waited at a table nearby, watching the scene unfold with her peripheral vision. Suddenly, all business, she squared her shoulders and stood from her table. She strolled past flirting Monica and the cheesily smiling barista, who was thankfully distracted.
Holding her breath, she slipped behind the counter and into the backroom. Past some crates and supplies, stood a door stamped in bold black "NO ADMITTANCE". She looked around, the kitchen area was relatively empty except for a punk girl with pink hair icing some cupcakes, huge ear muffs covering her ears and muffled music pumping through. The girl bounced her head to the heavy metal beat not even registering Briley's presence.
Taking advantage of the also distracted pastry chef, Briley trotted quickly behind a tall tower of half and half milk boxes. Biting her lip, she then made a break for the door.
What faint light there was in the storage room, spilled down through the high barred windows smeared with dirt. Piles of boxes, electrical cables and builder tools littered the floor. The room smelt like paint--old paint, and a heavy layer of dust covered the floor, marked by smeared shoe prints. It was probably under renovation. She took a step forward, tangling her foot in electrical wires. She bent down to free her shoe from the laces--then she saw it.
Her back felt icy with sweat and she almost pretended that she didn't see the envelope in the corner. Sitting there, out of place. She could just walk back into the front area and tell Monica she couldn't find it, she could...
Gritting her teeth, Briley walked toward the brown slender package. Just like the Man on the phone said there would be. She picked it up, it was light and nothing looked or felt to be protruding. Papers then, she thought, tempted to rip it open and peek.
"Do not, under any circumstances open the envelope. Your job is to carry the package."
Briley pushed her curiosity down and stuffed the envelope in the inside of her jacket pocket.
Briley found Monica still toying with the clearly smitten barista. She was leaning on the counter top, chin up and chest forward.
Briley walked toward them and double tapped Monica on the shoulder, breaking her spell on the poor guy. Briley smiled stiffly at him, "Hey." She turned to Monica and raised her brows in code, "ready to go?"
Monica's face immediately went from seductive to relieved. She tossed her hair back and begun to usher Briley toward the cafe doors. "Been ready. Let's go. See you around Timmy."
The odd pair was already walking toward the exit and completely ignored the barista's attempt at correcting his name. "Its...Jimmy..."
The pink haired girl emerged from the kitchen, decorated cupcakes balanced in one hand, a frown on her face.
"Hey, Jim, were you just in the storage room?"
Jim still dazed shook his head, "No, why?"
The pink haired girl's frowned deepened, " the no admittance door is wide open. I didn't touch it, and you've been out front. So who?"
Jimmy laughed and wiped down the counter, "Maybe Casper the friendly ghost did it."
YOU ARE READING
The Storm TrialsMystery / Thriller
The rules are simple...You play the game...Or you die. Enter 12 teens from various backgrounds. Each desperate for the cash prize that the popular but obscure underground game known as 'The Storm Trails' offers it's last standing participants. The c...