Page 3 of Silver Sinner

Her name tag rests on her shoulder with a yellow star sticker next to her signature, and she clutches a jug of iced water.

"It's as amazing as always," I reply. "And we'd love some pie."

"We would?" Moses' eyes widen.

"Yes, we would."

Layla casts an uncertain eye over my half-eaten plate as if she doubts my words, but she doesn't comment and instead nods quickly. "Excellent, how many slices would you like?"

"How many pies are nearly out of date?"

"Uhm…" She turns and glances over her shoulder at the display case. "There are three: cherry, pecan, and salted caramel."

"We'll take three."

"Slices?"

"Pies."

Layla whirls back around with wide eyes. "You want all three pies?"

"They'll go to waste otherwise, won't they?"

"Uh… yeah, they will. But that's like… a lot of pie."

"Moses is a pie connoisseur," I say, barely hiding my smirk at Moses' indignant cough. "Plus, we're seeing people after this. Pie will be a nice gift."

"That's perfect! I'll ring those up for you both when you're ready to leave. Uh… more water?" She suddenly remembers she's holding the water jug and offers it to me, causing the ice within to clink and clash.

"No, thank you. I'm good with coffee."

"I'll take some," Moses says around the last of his eggs. "Gonna need it with all that pie." His glare holds a light, amused warmth, but I barely notice as my focus remains on Layla.

She smiles that dazzling, warm smile and quickly refills Moses's water, then ducks her head and moves to the next booth.

Everyone in my life is hard and twisted. I look in their eyes and all I see is a timer until they decide I'm no longer useful. Then it's a case of who can fire first.

Not Layla.

She's the only person I know who smiles at me with warmth and talks to me without any agenda, other than a desire to see me well-fed.

It's a simple delight in my otherwise stormy life, and I've grown to sincerely appreciate even a few moments of her time.

Until those hyena-like cunts abruptly end their laughter like a stopper placed in a whistle, and something cold creeps across my shoulders.

"Is everything satisfying for you guys?" comes Layla's sweet, polite voice. "Can I get you anything else?"

"It's fine," one giggles sharply. "Though, you got any spotted dick on the menu?" All three of them collapse into laughter as if it's peak humor.

Layla, as always, remains as polite and friendly as ever. "We do, actually. We receive a lot of desserts from one of the cooking classes held over at the church. I think they made some. I can get you a slice?"

"Nah, nah." The joker of the group waves his hand. "Sounds gross."

"No problem. Is there anything else I can help you with? More water?"

"Yeah, actually, there's one thing you can help me with," replies one with an aggressive sniff, and a curl of anger ignites in my chest. "You can get me a date. With you. You understand? You and me, darlin'. We're going on a date."

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