Page 11 of Down Beat
“Classical.” Rey looks like he’s fit to burst. “People still listen to that?”
“They do.” I give him a hard stare, and then shift focus to Kris. “In all honesty, I am surprised you two don’t have security or some kind of protection if you’re that shit hot.”
He lifts an inked finger and points to a burly guy outside the shop. If I didn’t know better, I’d think the man was Joe Public. He’s big, sure, but he’s dressed in sweats and a T-shirt. No earpiece, no Secret Service-style shades. He just looks… normal.
“I think his name’s Pete,” Kris mumbles. “He turned up late. Hence why you got in.”
“You think his name is Pete?” I snort a laugh.
“He’s not our normal crew,” Rey fills in. “Hired while we’re in town.”
“Oh.” Frustrated by how quickly the conversation has turned comfortable, I redirect back to the issue at hand. “Can I ask why you’re at my table?”
“We need coffee.” Rey shrugs.
“At my table, though?”
“Figured we got off on the wrong foot.” He wrinkles his nose. It’s cute. No it’s not. Focus, Tab.
“Can’t blame me for that.” I take a nonchalant sip of my coffee… and promptly choke on a bubble of foam that gets stuck on the roof of my mouth near my throat. Slick.
“Can’t blame us, either,” Rey retorts.
It’s okay, asshole. I don’t need a pat on the back or anything. Just unable to breathe for a beat there, but you just take it easy, okay?
“Rick organized the whole thing,” he finishes, unfazed by the tears teetering on the rims of my eyes.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, Kris. I am now. Thanks.” I wipe the moisture away before I end up looking bat-shit crazy with mascara down my face.
“Where you from?”
“Pardon?” I glare at Rey.
“Your accent. You’re not American.”
I give the muppet a slow clap.
His nostrils flare when a few customers look across at our table. “Are you Austral—”
I lift a palm to stop him. “Don’t say it.”
“What?”
“Don’t you dare assume I’m Australian. There’s more than one country down there, you know.”
He stares at me, blank. Fuck my life.
“Kris, help him out here.” I down the last of my coffee.
“New Zealand,” he murmurs to Rey.
“Oh.” His face stays blank as a clean slate.
“You’ve heard of it, right?” I ask.
“Of course I have,” he scoffs.