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All the best, Imogene

“What does it say?” Hyde asked.

He expected Penny to pipe in, but she remained silent.

Jekyll read it again. And again. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had given him a gift. He tightened his hold over the book and settled into his seat, lifting his chin toward the exit.

“We gonna fucking sit here all day, or we gonna go home?”

The car was drowned in complete silence. He glanced over at Hyde, who was openly smirking but didn’t say a word. He turned in his seat, started the engine, and took off toward the exit.

Jekyll looked out the side window and glanced one last time to the second story of the prison.

It was empty.

Chapter One

How does it take thirty minutes to go six blocks down the road?

City living.

Imogene was still adjusting. Four months hadn’t been enough time to figure out shortcuts. But she’d given a lot of thought on how to improve the traffic patterns. The infrastructure was all wrong. Had the city planning commission done a survey on the area ten years earlier, she would’ve arrived on time. But that was neither here nor there. Now, she needed to focus on finding a place to park. Street parking was out of the question. She’d be circling for hours if she took a gamble on that.

A lot had changed in the last few months. A new job, a new city to call home, and essentially a new life. Imogene was on a path to put her past behind her. Move forward, look ahead. Kind of. There were some things she couldn’t escape, some she didn’t want to forget, and closure she never got.

“Stop! Focus on finding a spot,” she muttered, eyeing the parking lot on the left.

Perfect.

Imogene pulled into the lot behind one of the shops on Main Street. Yes, the sign said “Customers Only,” but she’d make a point of stopping in after her breakfast date. If he’s still there. She jumped out of the car and practically jogged through the lot, rounding the building.

She’d mapped it out before leaving the motel. The coffee shop was only half a block down and across the street. But as luck would have it, the light was green. She pressed on the post button. Once. Twice. Oh, come on!

“They don’t work.” Imogene glanced back at the man passing her. “Jaywalking gets you there quicker.”

He was halfway through the crosswalk when she decided to follow his lead. One step off the curb and the blasting horn had her stumbling backward. The car whipped around the corner. The driver was obviously a multi-tasker, able to cut the corner with precision and flip her the bird. A few others passed her as she stood on the corner staring at the crosswalk sign, refusing to go until it switched. It cost her another minute, but at least she was still breathing and hadn’t pissed off any more drivers.

She darted across the street, weaving through the crowds on the sidewalk. By the time she reached the cafe, she was out of breath, but she spotted him instantly. It shifted her mood, and she raised her hand, waving with a smile.

As per usual, he greeted her with a simple chin lift. It was all she’d get. Though related, hugs and signs of affection didn’t play a role in their relationship. He’d established strong boundaries from the very beginning. And I respect that.

Imogene was about to pass the door when she saw the waitress through the window carrying a tray and struggling. She turned right, grabbed the handle, and slowly guided it open.

“I got it,” she said, and the young girl looked back, smiling.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” She waited for the girl to pass then walked down to the last table in the row outside. She took a seat across from him and turned slightly, hooking her pocketbook over the back of the chair.

“Sorry I’m late.” She let out a heavy breath. “Still not used to the traffic. I left thirty minutes ago thinking I’d get here early. I was going to call and let you know that I was running late, but I don’t have one of those mounted phone holders yet, and I try to never talk while driving.” She snickered. “As you know, it’s illegal.”

While true, she was trying to make light of her obeying laws and referencing his job. It didn’t land the way she’d hoped. Most of her interactions with him were on the arctic side. This one was no different. Imogene hadn’t quite figured out how to develop her friendship with him. And he wasn’t giving her any pointers.

He lifted his mug, taking a sip of his coffee. Erik was a man of few words. Well, he is with me. Their relationship was a work in progress.

She shifted in her chair and grabbed a menu when she saw the waitress headed their way.

“What can I get you?”