Embers of Torment (Power and Passion #2)

Chapter 2

Jace

I pushed the café door open with my shoulder, my lunch tray in my hands, and scanned the plaza's seating area for Adam. When we talked on the phone, he mentioned that he and a friend usually came here to eat. Spotting him, I headed toward his table.

Adam beamed and raised his arm when he saw me.

Now a few yards away, I had a better view of Adam and the person he was with. Even though we'd kept in touch, I hadn't seen him in over ten years, and he looked the same—just older. His strawberry blond hair was still short, spiky, and meticulously styled. And he still wore his neatly pressed button-down shirts and tortoise shell eyeglasses.

The woman with him was…well…a little different. Her originally blond hair—I assumed that was what it was—had been dyed a bright pink, and she had it pulled into a ponytail. Her lipstick was a deep color. Dark purple? Burgundy? I wasn't sure what you'd call it, but whatever shade it was, it grabbed your attention, just like her clothing. She was wearing a neon green pair of pants and a long-sleeved, button-front blouse that displayed a variety of colorful barnyard animals.

I shrugged my shoulders. What was that old cliché about not prejudging people based on their appearance? Regardless of what it was, it was a mantra I tried to live by—the best I could.

"Jace! Hey, you're here. That's so cool." Adam jumped up from his chair, still beaming. One hand went to my shoulder while he stuck out the other.

Setting my tray beside his seat, I swiveled and shook his hand. Man, it was great to see him after all these years! I turned toward the woman and saw her face light up with a comical expression as she scrutinized Adam.

"Jace, this is my close friend, Della Nash. We work together at Morgan Systems."

"Pleasure to meet you." Smiling, I extended my arm.

"Same. I hope you're not as weird or easily excitable as Adam." She cackled as she shook my hand.

Ignoring her comment, I asked, "So, are you a senior software designer like Adam?" While waiting for her answer, I sat in the chair next to Adam and unwrapped my roast beef and cheddar sandwich.

"Wrong department. Della's a senior marketing analyst," Adam said before Della got the chance. He nodded toward me. "Della, this is Jace Welch. We met through a mutual friend in our teens and spent four years together at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. Jace lived by the campus, and I grew up nearby in Durham. His dad was also one of my professors."

Della eyed me, her brow furrowing in what I assumed was curiosity. "So…did you and Adam date each other?"

I coughed, barely managing to swallow the sip of water I'd taken. I stared across the table at her. "Sorry." I coughed again, trying to clear my throat since some of the liquid had gone down my windpipe. "I didn't expect to be asked that question. No, we weren't romantically involved. I'm straight, and we went from acquaintances to close friends after finding ourselves in many of the same college courses."

"When I first met Jace, back when I was in high school, he was pretty cool. He judged people by their personality and behavior rather than their sexual preferences, appearance, or other idiotic criteria. Unlike some of my classmates, Jace never acted uncomfortable or threatened when he was around me. That's one of the things I liked about him."

Della studied me for a few seconds and grinned. "So you're an upright kind of guy and not some asshole?"

"Wow. You like to ask some off-the-wall questions. I'm not sure I'd label myself as such, but I try to judge people fairly."

"Yes, he is. And humble. I don't think I've ever heard Jace brag."

I took a bite of my sandwich and another swig of water while Adam gave Della our backstory.

"So, out of nowhere, I get this message on Facebook from Jace telling me he's moved to Boston. He worked for a gaming software designer in Boulder, Colorado, and decided to switch jobs. Now, he works in the Oceanview East building down the street as a video game special effects artist for Delphinus Games. Cool, huh? When we were—"

"Umm…Jace? You can stop Adam at any time. If you let him keep talking, he'll spill all your secrets from birth onward."

I couldn't help my amusement. Adam hadn't changed, and this woman was a kick. But in a way, she touched on something without knowing. I did have a secret, and it wasn't funny. It was the real reason for my move to Boston.

I politely laughed off her comment. "Yeah, it's best Adam holds off on giving you my entire life story until we're better acquainted. I don't want to give off a bad impression."

"All right, I'll take the hint and shut up. Della and I have to return to the office in a few minutes anyway. Hey, I have an idea, though." Adam looked at me and grinned. "My boyfriend, Theo, owns a catering company and is typically booked all weekend, so Della and I hang out after work on Fridays. We're going to Bullseye Tavern four blocks down the street to drink and play darts tonight. It's in that three-story complex across from the dance club. You could join us."

"I wish I could. It sounds like fun. But I'm having dinner with a woman who works in my office building. We kept running into each other in the elevator, and I asked her out. Tonight's our second date, and I'm still trying to figure out if I like her."

"Excuse me? Either you like someone, or you don't," Della said, somewhat snippy.

"No, not always. Sometimes it's not that simple, especially when you get the barest hint of an underlying personality you're unsure about."

"Whatever." Della rolled her eyes and frowned while her bright purple fingernail tapped on the tabletop.

I couldn't help but grin. Della was downright feisty.

Adam pushed his chair back and stood. "Hey, call me later. Della and I have to get back to work."

"I will. Have fun tonight." I studied them as they tossed their trash in a bin and stacked their trays on a cabinet. Della was walking slightly behind Adam, and it took me a second to realize I had riveted my gaze on the gentle sway of her hips.

Then I blinked in surprise.

No way! Did she stick her tongue out at me? Laughing, I shook my head, my eyes on them until they disappeared around a corner.

Swiveling on my barstool, I scanned the entrance again, looking for Charlene. She was late. She had requested we meet at a restaurant close to our office building at five thirty, so I chose the steak and seafood place two blocks away to make it easy for her.

It didn't work.

Sighing, I was about to give up when I spotted Charlene, a petite, dark-haired pixie of a woman, come through the door. I signaled the bartender I was leaving and placed a tip on the counter. Then I joined her.

"Hey, you made it. It's almost six o'clock. I was getting worried." I leaned forward and gave her a polite hug.

"I did. Sorry, I'm late. I was talking to a girlfriend."

"Nothing wrong, I hope."

"Nope. Just some idle gossip. Nothing major." Charlene offhandedly shrugged her shoulder.

Great! Apparently, this date is more important to me than it is to her. Forcing a smile, I led her to the podium to advise the hostess I was ready to be seated.

The woman grimaced when she saw me. "Oh, Mr. Welch, my apologies. I couldn't hold your reservation any longer. I gave it away ten minutes ago. But I have a small table in the back available unless you want to wait a half hour or so for another booth."

"We'll take the table."

"Perfect. This way, please."

We followed the hostess to a row of tables tucked away in a separate area near the bar. Ours was at the end, with a boisterous-looking group of four seated next to us.

Charlene made a face.

"Is there anywhere else you can put us? I hate it when we all share the same bench seat along the wall. It makes me feel like we have no privacy."

The hostess shook her head. "I apologize, but like I told Mr. Welch a moment ago, this is all we have right now. It's Friday night, and we're busy."

"Fine." Charlene scowled and stepped toward the chair. After I assisted her in getting seated, she took the menu the hostess handed her and made another face. "That's hard to read." She spun it around. "Much better. You gave it to me upside down."

"I'm so sorry." The hostess made eye contact with me as Charlene browsed the menu. Unless I was imagining things, the look she shot me before walking away dripped with sympathy.

A few minutes later, another woman appeared at my elbow. "Hello, I'm Josie. I'll be your server this evening. Can I start you off with something to drink?" She glanced between the two of us, her gaze settling on Charlene.

"I'll have a mango margarita with salt," Charlene said.

"Perfect. And you, sir?"

"I'll have the same thing, please."

Josie nodded and hurried away.

I was listening to Charlene tell me about her less-than-pleasant workday when Josie returned and set our drinks on the table. Charlene took one glance at hers and scowled.

"That isn't a margarita!"

Josie gave Charlene a wary glance. "It's a mai tai."

"I ordered a margarita. Don't you know the difference?" Charlene's voice was swimming with derision.

Josie's face flushed. "Oh, you did. I'm so sorry. Today is only my second time working here, and I'm still learning the ropes. I'll get you a margarita." She reached for the mai tai.

"That's all right. I'll drink it." I pushed my glass toward Charlene and took hers.

Josie peered at me appreciatively, her shoulders relaxing. She took our dinner order.

Our evening went into a rocky freefall from there.

Between Charlene's complaints that the oysters were too salty, her steak undercooked, and her dessert having whipped cream when she had asked for none, I had had enough. The kicker was when Charlene called Josie stupid, almost making her cry. That was when I told Charlene I was ending our date and skipping the dance club we planned to go to next. Of course, I followed that ugly conversation with a profuse apology to Josie for my date's inexcusable manners.

And now Charlene glared at me. "How dare you apologize for my behavior. I did nothing inappropriate. That girl is inept."

"You're right. How dare I because you should have been the one apologizing. Getting the wrong drink was no big deal, and I ate the same oysters as you. They were perfect, and your steak looked beautiful. You could have scraped the whipped cream off your chocolate torte. Hell, you didn't even need to do that since the kitchen staff piled it beside your cake. You may have had a rotten day at work based on the description you gave me, but that didn't make it okay to treat Josie like shit. After I settle the bill, I'll escort you back to our building."

"Don't bother. My girlfriends are at the bar. I'll join them and save you the walk." Charlene scowled at the two couples next to us and stormed off.

Josie returned, her expression pained. "I'm so sorry." She put the check by my glass and appeared ready to cry again. "I didn't mean to cause a fight. Oh God, please don't tell my manager. I'll get fired, and I need this job."

"You're fine. Nobody is perfect, and we all make mistakes." I glanced at the bill and pulled my wallet from my back pocket. Grabbing some cash, I placed it in the tray—enough to pay for dinner and give Josie double my standard tip. "Thank you, and try to have a good night." I pushed my chair back and left the restaurant, ignoring the three women laughing at me from the bar.

I walked toward my office building, passing groups of people along the way, and then stopped. Why am I calling it a night because my date was a flop? Turning around, I headed back the way I came, thinking I preferred to join up with Adam and Della than go home.

Reaching the complex where Adam said they'd be, I followed the signs and took the escalator to the second floor. Opening the wood-trimmed glass doors to the tavern, I stepped inside, finding the place noisy and packed. My eyes darted back and forth as I casually walked past the U-shaped bar and continued checking each gaming nook for Adam. I spotted Della stepping up to throw a dart in a semi-private area with two electronic boards. Adam and Della were playing on the board on the left. A group of people played on the one on the right.

I sat on the dark green tufted-leather booth seat behind them, silently enjoying their game until Adam saw me.

"Hey! What are you doing here? I thought you had a date." Adam smiled, his eyes widening in surprise. His comments caused Della to lower her arm and pivot in place.

"He came to see me kick your butt," Della said, snickering. She turned back around and threw her dart. As soon as it landed, she flung her arms into a goalpost position and jumped up and down, her ponytail bobbing wildly. She followed that up with a weird little dance, her upper body moving in a circular motion as if she were stirring a pot.

I couldn't help laughing at Della's antics. Besides being hilarious, her moves were cute—even more so in her neon green pair of pants and that darn barnyard animal blouse.

"How did you do that?" Adam whined.

"Skill. It's all skill." Della grinned while she retrieved her darts. She approached the table in front of me and sipped one of the cocktails sitting there.

Adam rolled his eyes. "She's an expert at this. We're playing Demolition. I need thirty-one to zero out, and Della needs seventeen." Adam stepped to the line marked on the floor, raised his arm, and concentrated on the board. He threw, and his dart landed on the five, the scoreboard automatically deducting those points from his score. "Man, I was aiming for the twenty. I need twenty-six now." He threw again, this time hitting a double twenty. "Shoot, I went bust." He pulled his darts from the board, grumbling as he joined us.

Della snickered again.

I chuckled and got up from my seat, giving Adam a clap on the shoulder. "Better luck next throw."

"If I even get one."

Gloating, Della sashayed to the line. She raised her arm, pursed her lips, and threw her dart. It hit the two. Now, she needed fifteen to zero out. She rolled her shoulder, got in her stance, and threw her second of three darts.

It landed on fifteen.

"Yes! I won again!" Della did a little jig while Adam groaned. She pulled her darts and smirked at Adam.

He snatched the darts from her and glared. "I'll get you next time."

"Dream on," she laughed.

I shook my head at the two of them. Their banter and rivalry were doing wonders at making me feel better after my messed-up date.

Adam left to turn in their equipment while Della picked up their glasses. I grabbed the platter of what looked like the remnants of a flatbread pizza and followed Della to a nearby table. She slipped onto a barstool, and I sat on the one across from her.

"That was fun. Do you and Adam come here a lot?"

Della nodded and reached for the last piece of the pizza. "Yeah, we do. When we don't feel like darts, we go to a cafe close by to play board games, or we go bowling. Other times, we stay at Adams and watch movies, usually thrillers or horror flicks." She took a decent-sized bite of the flatbread.

"Adam still likes those types of films, huh?"

Della swallowed and sipped her cocktail. "Yep, and I'm banned from watching them solo. I get too freaking scared."

I chuckled. With Della's unending enthusiasm and quirkiness, I could imagine how crazy she got when something freaked her out. She was likely an animated bundle of energy. Either that or she dove under a blanket to hide. I sensed there wasn't a middle ground with her, only an extreme one way or the other. My protective instincts rose as I pictured Della viewing one of those films, and I suddenly wanted to be her shield, keeping the imaginary monsters at bay.

Adam rejoined us, a waitperson coming up behind him.

"What can I get for you?" the man asked before picking up the platter.

Della noisily sipped the remnants of her drink through a straw while Adam ordered a Butterfly. Handing the employee her empty glass, Della asked for another White Tiger. Clueless as to what they were ordering, I grabbed the beverage menu to find out. A quick perusal identified Adam's drink as a rum-based orange blossom cocktail and Della's coconut-flavored. Intrigued, I decided on the Panda, which was bourbon-based and peach-flavored.

I was listening to Della razz Adam about his "pitiful showing" at darts when our server returned with our drinks. I was pleasantly surprised when I took a sip of mine.

"Ooh, I haven't tried the Panda yet. Let me have some." Della reached for my cocktail.

Never one to share my beverage, especially with a stranger, I gave her an "Are you crazy?" face and swatted at her hand. I found myself rewarded with an exaggerated pout.

"It's not like I have cooties or something."

Whether intended or not, Della's comment made me feel terrible, so I slid her my Panda. "Here. You can have a sip."

"Thank you." Della's face lit up. She passed me hers. "Try the coconut. It's super delicious."

Bypassing her straw, I sipped from the glass. The drink was as enjoyable as mine. "I'm not a coconut lover, but it's surprisingly tasty."

"Told you. Yours is yummy too, but I like the White Tiger better." Della swapped our glasses. Then her expression changed to something more somber. "By the way, I may not have cooties, but I do have this weird disease. You'll break out in hives in about thirty minutes."

I stared at Della, lost at how to interpret her comment. My face transformed into a scowl when she cackled with delight.

"Don't worry. You'll get used to her." Grinning, Adam gave me a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.

"Hey! None of that." Della swatted Adams's arm. "There's no reason to knock me because he doesn't understand how to take a joke."

"Oops, I guess I forgot. It isn't pick on Della night. We'll have to ask Jace about his date instead." Adam arched a brow at me, making me groan.

"Are you sure you want me to fill you in?"

Adam and Della both nodded.

I spent the next fifteen minutes giving them a rundown of my evening. They looked affronted when I told them about Charlene's condescending behavior.

Della's eyebrows squeezed together. "Wow, she sounds like a loser."

"I'm not surprised by Jace's reaction." Adam puffed his chest out, appearing proud. "Jace always played the protector in college, looking out for the underdog."

I shrugged. "Yeah, well. I hate it when I witness someone picking on another. It hits a nerve."

"I think I like you even better." Della reached over and patted my arm.

"Thanks." I grinned at her.

We spent the next hour and a half chatting about our jobs and things to do in the area while Adam told Della a story now and then about some of our escapades in college. The time seemed to slip away until Adam announced he and Della were calling it a night. With a partial drink in front of me, I told them I would stick around for a few minutes. Saying our goodbyes, I watched Della walk away, a single word buzzing through my head.

Unique.

She was different from the women I typically hung out with, and I couldn't explain the way she drew me in. On top of that, there was something I couldn't deny. Della intrigued me, and I was eager to get to know her better.