Hi friends. Here is the second chapter of The Cleaning Lady. I hope you like it.
The Cleaning Lady: Chapter 2
Evan Mikealson was the mayor of Toulouse County. He became aware of a Russian crime family living and operating in California due to the increase of shootings with fully automatic guns that came from said crime family, and decided to make it his life’s work to come after them. The order came from Alexei Ivanov, the head of the Ivanov crime family. Or Dad, to Ava. Whatever you wanted to call him.
Ava sipped her coffee in the inside of The Nighthawk, her favorite coffee shop. It was two a.m. The Nighthawk was open until three, maybe a little longer for Ava. She was a regular.
It was small inside. Just one line of three tables across the wall, not three feet away from the coffee bar across. People weren’t meant to sit inside; the outside tables were much more comfortable for drunk people to drink coffee and smoke and laugh after the bars closed. Cherrywood was a college town with lots of bars and clubs. Everyone was always drunk. On a Friday or Saturday night, you’d see fights and people passing out in the middle of the street. That’s why Ava liked it. It was unlikely that anyone would remember seeing her, except the baristas in the coffee shop, of course.
Ava looked up from her coffee. At the other side of the table, with his hands leaning on the chair opposite, stood a man, maybe thirty years old. He had sandy brown hair that stood up in sections as if he was pulling on it. He had a beard, cut short. He had a hoodie on, but out of his collar crept a tattoo on his neck. It was an eye.
Ava didn’t say anything.
“May I sit down?” the man asked.
Ava would usually tell him to fuck off, but she was tired. And very, very lonely.
“Sure,” her voice cracked out.
He sat down opposite her. “I’m Derek.”
He laughed. “And what’s your name, if I may ask?”
What was she doing? Why the hell did she give him her real name?
“What are you doing out so late, Ava?” Derek asked.
“What do you do?”
After a pause, Ava said darkly, “I clean up people’s messes.”
“So you’re like, a cleaning lady?”
She laughed. “Something like that.”
“Kinda late to be cleaning houses.”
Ava shrugged. “What do you do?”
“I’m a tattoo artist.”
“That’s pretty cool, actually.”
“Thanks.” He ran his fingers through his hair and pulled on it. “Ava, may I take you out to dinner?”
As much as she would tell him to fuck off, she would definitely never agree to dinner. But she already told him her name, so it was kind of too late to back out now.
“Let me see your phone,” he said.
She handed him her phone and he typed something into it. She wasn’t worried. Nothing, absolutely nothing, was communicated by these watchdog machines.
He handed back her phone and got up. “Text me.” He smiled.
She nodded, and he walked out of the coffee shop.
She looked up. All the baristas were watching her. “Shut up,” she said.
Ava looked at her phone and scrolled through her contacts until she reached D. She saw Derek’s name.
Derek Mikaelson, the contact said.