12 Bliss Street Read Online Free

chocolate-colored teddy over her head. If she turned slightly Nicola could see his dark hair in the corner of her eye, and she liked this, a little frisson of reality in playland.
    “Did you enjoy the pizzeta?” Chorizo asked softly.
    She could feel him unfasten her bra. She could feel his warm breath on her back.
    “Lost in your own world?” he said.
    At that Nicola looked up. He was watching her. His slanted dark eyes made him seem worldly, knowing, as if her mind were an unrolled map before him. Was he wolfish, or more like a fox? All at once Nicola felt both caught and excited—he knows exactly what I was doing, she thought. There was a sign she had often noticed down the street: “Suspicious activities are recorded and forwarded to the appropriate authorities”—a titillating idea. A wave of power rushed through her.
    “Exactly,” she said, looking him in the eye.
    Did his expression change? He looked at her more closely.
    “I’ve seen you here a few times,” he said. “You must work nearby.”
    “Very close.”
    “What do you do?”
    “I’m a dental hygienist,” she said.
    The lie—where did that come from? As soon as she said it Nicola felt another electrical charge, and the thought came to her that she could do anything, it didn’t matter, what did it matter? The morning was a waste; the whole year, let’s face it, was not so great, but forget it; here she was now, here she was, and she was ready for something unplanned and unordinary.
    “You must like mouths,” Chorizo was saying, then smiled, showing his teeth.
    And she thought: they have their uses.
    *   *   *
    Chorizo looked Nicola over. She surprised him, she really did, and he liked that in a woman. He put away his paper, then moved his chair slightly closer to her table, turning so she could see the birthmark on his neck, which other women said was sexy. Not his wife, never his wife, but some of the others. A vampire’s kiss, one called it. He liked that.
    She was bolder than he had imagined. He saw it in her eyes: something pleased her. A woman who likes pleasure; well, well. In the last few weeks he had pegged her as the administrative type—one who pays an unhealthy attention to details. The nurse with pursed lips. But here she is, smiling and showing her palms, which everyone knows is a sign of flirtation.
    And then, when she bent down to pick her napkin up from the floor, he saw the shiny chocolate-colored strap under her blouse.
    Well, well, he thought again.
    Lingerie.
    She’s wearing lingerie. And all at once he could picture how she might look without the business suit. Wearing just—was it a camisole? And perhaps matching panties? He could see her on the bed he used, her skin going cold. The peculiar shininess that comes at death. She could be the next one. He definitely saw it. She could be next.
    He moved his chair closer.
    *   *   *
    “And what do you do?” Nicola asked, picking up her napkin.
    “Oh, like everyone else I’m in computers,” Chorizo told her. On the wall behind him stood a picture of a spiky asparagus, and Nicola strained to listen as Chorizo spoke about high-potency something or other. The truth was she didn’t really care about his job. On his wrist he wore a thin silver bracelet and he had a birthmark like a dark fingerprint on the side of his neck.
    He had very good manners, she could see that. His eyes never left her face. She wiped pizzeta sauce from her hands and considered. He was kind of a smooth guy. Too smooth? To be honest he wasn’t really her type, but she was feeling good now for the first time all day, possibly all week. And maybe the whole point was that he wasn’t her type.
    Plus the mark on his neck was kind of sexy.
    “Are you from California?” Chorizo was asking.
    The café’s fluorescent lights blinked for a moment, a line of long, sharp clouds overhead, and Nicola hesitated then told the truth. “I was born in Ohio.”
    “Ohio. I’ve always liked the sound