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EXCERPT: First Stop, Pizza

Excerpt from the upcoming novel: Castle in the Mountains.
(The Castle eBooks, fStop Espresso, LLC - all rights reserved)

Castle in the Mountains - Chapter 5, Section 1 - First Stop, Pizza!

The small pizzeria was packed and Léa and Tara were lucky to get a small table near the back of the bar. Always, the observer, Tara quickly scanned the room. It was a typical mix of first time out of towners and a few locals. Several people in business suits were already at the bar getting an early start on their daily buzz.

“Welcome to Lou Mal’s. Can I get you something from the bar?” said the waiter who magically appeared.

Lou Mal’s was Chicago’s famous Lou Malnati's Pizzeria on North State Street. After their flight from Europe landed at Chicago O’Hare, they hopped a few trains and arrived at the downtown Union Station. The double decker Amtrak train that would take them out west wouldn’t leave for six hours. So they stashed their overnight bags into a locker, slung their backpacks over their shoulders and went out hunting for some of Chicago’s famous deep dish pizza.

Léa flipped the drink menu over from mixed drinks to beer and ale, then back again. Tara appeared to be casually looking at her own drink menu. But she already knew what she wanted and was really watching the waiter, trying to predict what he would do. Watching and predicting was a game the two best friends played for years.

If things went along like they always did, the waiter would continue smiling at Léa. And why not? Léa was just genuinely fun to be around. Not bubbly, just genuine and fun. She also had what more than a few of the guys back at school called a killer body with just the right touch of magnetic, sexual attraction.

“Irish coffee for me,” smiled Léa.

“Awesome,” said the waiter.

“Here it comes,” said Tara to herself.

She looked up just as the waiter turned his attention to her. The smile on the waiter’s face didn’t waiver as he looked at Tara. She didn’t expect that part of the waiter’s expression to change. The best waiters had the ability to make everyone feel welcome, like they were all best friends. It increased the chances of getting fatter tips.

But Tara wasn’t watching the waiter’s smile. Her small, sky blue eyes were focused like lasers on the waiter’s eyes. Just as she predicted, Tara saw the slight sparkly flame of interest the waiter showed Léa disappear as fast as you could blow out a candle. It was the way it always went.

Unlike Léa, there was nothing magnetic about Tara. She rarely smiled, hardly ever laughed and her angular, small, thin body had an attraction factor of about zero. There was nothing fun and genuine about her personality either.

Tara wasn’t shy, she just didn’t like wasting time making small talk with people who would be in her life for less than five minutes. It made Tara come off as condescending, aloof or just plane angry. A former boyfriend said she had all the warmth of a pissed off badger.

“Look in the dictionary for ‘resting bitch face’ and you’ll see Tara’s picture,” a former classmate once observed.

Léa found Tara at home crying after the ‘bitch face’ comment. It was Tara’s Sweet Sixteenth birthday and one of the very few times Léa could remember seeing her friend cry. Léa sat on the bed, holding her friend as Tara’s body convulsed with deep, emotional pain. Tears appeared at the corner’s of Léa’s eyes too.

Even at that early age, the two best friends could have entire conversations without having to utter a word. Léa hated the fact that people treated her best friend so badly. Tara knew that too. She looked at Léa with watery, red eyes and smiled. They both understood what was going on. It wasn’t fair, but it was the way things were. From that day on, Tara resolved to never let anyone hurt her again.

Tara looked away from the waiter and into Léa’s eyes.

“Brindle Amber Ale,” said Tara.

“Excellent. Be right back,” said the waiter as he turned to leave.

“Brindle?” asked Léa.

“It’s a local brew. Supposed to be a toasty malt, mildly bitter and just over five percent alcohol. So I won’t get too plowed,” said Tara.

“I think we’re done getting smashed for a while,” said Léa.

“Not like that night back at The Castle,” said Tara.

“Yeah,” said Léa.

The drinks arrived. The waiter smiled at Léa and asked if they were ready for pizza. She picked up the menu and began studying the pizza choices.

“We’ll do your Chicago Classic,” said Tara.

Once again, the smile didn’t waiver as the waiter’s attention turned to Tara. But the disinterest washed over his eyes as fast someone turning out a light.

“Any appetizers?” asked the waiter.

“Just the pizza,” said Tara.

“Outstanding,” said the water as he left the table.

“What’s their classic?” asked Léa.

“Deep dish sausage, extra cheese and tomato sauce,” said Tara.

“Mmmmm. Sounds perfect,” said Léa.

It took almost an hour for the pizza to arrive at Léa and Tara’s table. They were sitting in an out of the way table, just behind the bar where they could keep an eye out for trouble.

Léa and Tara sat in silence, sipping their drinks while letting their eyes slowly scan the room. Their eyes would stop at each table as they quickly evaluated the people sitting there. It took less than five minutes before Léa and Tara looked back at each other. Léa took a sip of her Irish Coffee, slightly shook her head and laughed.

“Think there will ever be a day when we don’t check out every person in every place we go?” she asked.

“Probably a good thing to do now that we’re at The Castle,” said Tara.

Léa thought for a few minutes.

“Suppose it’s something our parent’s started us on to make us better spies?” she asked.

“Absolutely,” said Tara.

The minutes waiting for the pizza ticked by. They both nursed along their second pint of amber ale and Irish Coffee. Léa called Janet and they were about the examine the Chicago Transit Authority map a third time when the pizza magically appeared.

“Can I get you anything else?” asked their waiter.

Léa and Tara could only shake their head ‘no’ as they quickly realized just how big their pizza was.

“Enjoy,” said the waiter as he left.

Tara shoved the small, white plate aside and picked up her fork. It only took a glance between the best friends for Léa to understand why. Getting a slice of the deep dish pizza from the still, sizzling hot pan to the plate would only result in most of what was piled high on the pizza to fall off. The plate was pointless.

Léa picked up her fork, then closed her eyes as she took her first bite of the steaming, deep dish pizza. It was so hot, it burned the top of Léa’s mouth. But the pizza tasted so good.

“This is amazing,” she said through a mouth full of pizza.

Tara only nodded in agreement. It took her no time at all to polish off one big slice of pizza before Tara started on her second. But Léa wasn’t far behind and it didn’t take long before they began cutting into their third slices of pizza.

Léa looked up as Tara took another bite. Her best friend looked completely at ease which was rare. Tara wasn’t high strung, she just never seemed happy and content. Tara looked over at Léa and smiled. Just as Léa felt another warm, best friend moment bubbling up, her blood suddenly turned cold.

While smiling at her best friend, Tara leaned slightly to her left, looked over Léa’s shoulder. The warmth from Tara’s sky blue eyes disappeared as her small, black pupils sharply focused on the pizzeria’s door.

“Fuck me,” said Tara under her breath.

Without looking over her shoulder, Léa knew exactly what was happening. She, in turn, looked over Tara’s shoulder toward the entrance to the kitchen.

“There’s gotta be a back door in the kitchen,” said Léa quietly.

“You go to the bar and order another round of drinks. I’ll head for the restrooms, then we meet in the kitchen,” said Tara.

Léa took another few bites of her pizza as Tara watched the people who just came through the front door. They were still scanning the crowd and apparently hadn’t spotted Léa and Tara. Léa took another bite of her pizza.

“They could have at least waited until we finished,” growled Léa.

“Doesn’t look like they’ve spotted us yet,” said Tara.

“Then finish up,” said Léa through a mouth full of pizza.

Tara’s half smiled appeared as she loaded up another fork full of deep dish pizza. The two best friends managed to polish off about half the pizza before Tara looked toward the door. There was genuine surprise on her face. Enough surprise, that Léa turned to look over her shoulder. She looked back at Tara.

“They’re gone?” she asked.

Tara looked off to the side, her head tilted just slightly as she tried to figure out what happened. She began to shake her head slowly from side to side.

“There’s no way they could have missed us,” said Tara.

“Maybe they were looking for someone else?” ventured Léa.

“I recognized a few of them from Werfen,” said Tara.

Léa thought about that a few moments.

“Maybe they just really suck at being secret agents?” smiled Léa.

Tara’s half smile appeared as she took another bite of pizza.

“We’ve been pretty lucky so far, but I don’t think we’re that lucky,” she said.

Tara was about to take another bite, when her fork stopped halfway to her mouth. She set the fully loaded fork back down on the still hot pizza pan.

“What now?” asked Léa quietly.

“I don’t really think we’re all that lucky,” said Tara.

Léa put her fork down. After thinking about a few moments, the two best friends began talking.

“They did spot us,” said Léa.

“They’re out there waiting for us now,” said Tara.

“Think we can get out the back way?” asked Léa.

“They probably have that covered too,” said Tara.

“Then we’ll need some kind of distraction to get out of here,” said Léa.

“One distraction coming up,” said Tara.

She reached for her backpack, pulled out her laptop and began tapping away on the keys. Léa watched as her friend’s fingers flew across the keyboard. A few minutes later, Tara shut the lid, stuffed her Mac back in the backpack and picked up her still fully loaded fork full of pizza.

“We’ve got about five minutes before our distraction arrives,” said Tara.

“What did you do?” asked Léa.

Tara smiled and took another bite of pizza.