Marks

Chapter 1

Her divorce should have been finalized today. She reminded herself to check her mailbox as she exited her apartment, pulling her army green fleece closer to her small, fragile body, a maroon colored beanie centered on her head, covering the tops of her ears. One hand slipped into her pocket, stuffing her jingling keys and bracing herself for the shock of the cold.
     Her deep amber colored eyes were aware but distracted as she mentally formed a checklist of todays errands. She didn't have to worry about having her son for the day, which normally would have brought her some sort of relief, but there was just something that didn't feel right about the whole situation.
     She drew her collar up against the wind, having successfully descended the two flights of stairs without incident and pushing the door open with enough strength. The deep blue of the morning bled over her, tinting her porcelain skin with a shade of light blue and a small hint of pink. She crossed the parking lot, looking both ways for oncoming vehicles as she did so, and reached her midnight blue KIA Soul.
     Making her way to her job wasn't the hard part, convincing herself to go into building was the hard part. She hated working as a waitress but she hated not being able to provide for her child more. Until she was able to find a replacement for her second job, she couldn't quit.
     Trying to take her mind off of work, she turned the radio on. Her phone immediately connecting. Her eyes glanced over to her radio preview screen groggily. My Blood by Ellie Goulding displayed across the screen, her fingers turned the music up some. Loud enough to wake her up and drown out the lingering stress. She drove through an intersection, her eyes catching frosted blue ones for a second.
     A tall man, a little taller than six foot, with broad shoulders. His build average looking though he stood somewhat hunched with one foot on the road and the other on the sidewalk still. He wore a beanie similar to hers though his was a different color. Her whiskey colored eyes narrowed, not recognizing the face. She lived in a small town, every body knew everyone, and she definitely didn't know him.
     She averted her gaze back to the road, feeling the chill of his gaze following her as she pulled into the Diner's parking lot. Placing her car in park and shutting it off, she sighed heavily before talking herself into showing up for work.

Her feet felt sore from being on her feet the almost full eight hours she worked. She carried the tray of empty dishes back to the kitchen, groaning as she placed them on the dish rack. She shifted her weight from one ball of her foot to the other in an attempt to ease the soreness.

     "Are you okay, Emma?" Jean asked. The chef turned around to face the exhausted waitress. Emma lifted her head up, a few strands of her hair falling into her face despite having it in a ponytail. She smiled warmly at him.

     "Yeah, I'm fine Jean," she lied. Truthfully, she hadn't had a decent nights sleep since she and her ex separated. Sleeping alone had its disadvantages.

    "Is it Joseph? What's he trying to do to you now?" Jean frowned, his brow crinkling with worry. Emma gave a healthy chuckle, shaking her head and moistening her lips.

     "He didn't do anything, I promise." She assured him, straightening herself up and turning around to exit the kitchen. She only had one more table then she could go home and she would continue to remind herself that until she was out of the apron. She walked behind the register, getting ready to swipe her last tables card when the bell on the door rung. Her eyes flicked up, seeing the same man from that morning walking in, rain glistening on the bridge of his nose as he took down his hood.
     His jacket dripped water on pebbled tile floor, creating small puddles. Her jaw flexed, eyes narrowing as she looked at him. She just cleaned that floor. The sound of the receipt printing out pulled her out of her investigative trance before she tore off the receipt and the copy of it, placing it in the black fold book. The man took a couple steps forward, he had a New York pep in his step. He looked like he had never slowed down in his life.
     Their eyes met, an icy wave trickling down her spine before a sharp, burning itch running from under the curve of her right breast, reaching down to her hip. She shifted uncomfortably, noticing the man straighten up more, his nostrils flaring ever so slightly. Did he mistake her uncomfortable struggle as an insult to his ego?
     Emma cleared her throat, regaining her composure.

     "Welcome to The Diner, have a seat over in the corner booth and I will be right with you." She greeted, flashing him a smile, though inside she felt like ripping him to shreds right now.

     "Thanks." He murmured, a Philadelphian accent thick in his voice. She eyed another waitress, her eyes flashing in warning. The waitress, Veronica, flashed her a cheeky smirk and mouthed a small encouragement. "Go get him, tiger."
     She flipped her order pad, starting on a fresh sheet as she made her way over to the man. He was staring out of the window, his frosty blue eyes making him appear miles away. She cleared her throat.

     "Hey there, newbie," Emma smirked, her brows arching in expectancy. The man jumped slightly, flashing her a toothy grin and chuckling softly.

    "Oh...you greet everyone like that?"

     "Only the new people," she shrugged, readying her pen. "What'll it be?"
     The man studied her for a moment, the grin never fading and his eyes crinkling on the sides. He pushed out a breath as she looked back at him.

     "Coffee. Black, please?"

     "Coming right up." She promised, about facing and hurrying to make a fresh pot. The sooner she got him out of the booth, the sooner she could go home.