Velvet – An Excerpt from Chapter Two

Please enjoy this short excerpt from the novel Velvet, available here from Amazon.

Mercedes sat at a table close to the entrance so I walked over and took the seat next to her. Dee saw me as soon as I entered the restaurant and ran over to meet me.

“Holy one, so glad to see you.” He bowed then grabbed me into a hug. His dreadlocks were now just about to his waist. The beads around his neck looked like they weighed several pounds.

“Hi, Dee.” I laughed out loud at that. Holy one, indeed.

He held me a moment too long, and then a moment more.

“You can let go of me now.” I wiggled out of his grasp.

“I’m sorry, Nyx. Happy Holyween, my mystic goddess of the night.”

I took my seat and looked at Mercedes. She stared at Dee with her mouth wide open. I knew she had no idea what or who Nyx must have been, so I decided to let it go for now.

“Have you met my friend here? Mercedes, this is Dee. Dee, this is Mercedes Ramirez.”

Dee bowed low, reached for her hand and kissed it. He looked at the lines on her palm and knelt beside her.

“Dear Mercedes, you have a beautiful future ahead of you on this Halloween day. I suggest ordering the Italian sausage.”

With a kiss blown on the wind, he was up and gone. I watched him weave his way toward the kitchen and disappear through the doorway.

Mercedes sat silent for several seconds then cleared her throat.

“Who in the world was that?”

“Dee. I met him at work a few months ago. He’s such a nice guy.”

“Maybe you should stay away from him.”

“I don’t date him or go out with him. I just run into him here and there.”

Mercedes stared at me. “Did it ever occur to you that he might be a serial killer or something?”

“I doubt it. And besides, he’s a good customer,” I said.

“And,” she said, “what or who is Nyx?”

“Nyx is a Greek goddess of the night. He calls me that because I always wear black.”

“Well, he’s right about one thing. You are a bit too mystical. I’ll give him that,” she said. “Nyx. Hmph. That just sounds evil. Do you still carry a rosary?”

We stopped squabbling when a young woman wearing a lion costume came to our table with paper menus. She took our drink orders and left as fast as she came.

“So,” I said, “are you getting the Italian sausage? It’s supposed to portend a beautiful future.”

“Yeah, a beautiful future on the porcelain throne. No thanks. Plain queso for me. Now,” she said, “tell me more about that guy.”

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