Jenni gasped. “I’ll have you know I have low blood sugar. I have to eat.”

“Right. I totally believe you and don’t think you’re delusional in the least.”

“You’re just begging for a piece of me, you know that?” she growled.

“I don’t know what gave you the idea I’ve lowered my standards, but I assure you, I haven’t. I want no part of you. By the way, you have a piece of dough stuck in your teeth.” Latte completed, I skipped to an empty table. As I sipped the hot, deliciously sweet liquid (perfectly prepared, thank you!) I stared out the large storefront window and grinned. Ah, my little interlude with Jenni had revived my spirits, chasing away the tension brought on by forced charm.

Across the way loomed a pretty, obviously well maintained brownstone with steel-enforced, tinted windows. The bushes surrounding it were expertly trimmed and hedged. Flowers bloomed prettily in the spring sun, a pink, red and gold rainbow of petals.

But there were no signs, no advertisements to be seen. Occasionally I’d spotted a car or two in the parking lot, as I did now, so I knew people worked there. But I’d never been able to figure out what kind of business it was, had never seen an employee entering or leaving.

The place intrigued me. Always had. I’d thought about sneaking over there late one night and peeking inside, but usually fell asleep before working up the strength to leave my apartment. Perhaps it was a-

I blinked. What the hell? A tall, lanky man in a lab coat suddenly barreled out the front door of the brownstone at top speed, his eyes wide and wild, his white comb-over flapping in the breeze. One minute he wasn’t there, the next he was. My back went ramrod straight, the movement swishing precious latte over the rim of the cup. I blinked again, as if the action could jump-start my brain into figuring out why he was running.