As I sat and waited for what I hoped would be a reasonable meal, I gazed around the room. Wood panels sat half way up the wall to a dado rail, from there it was a rich creamy wall. Tea lights on the white linen with soft generic music playing in the background.

My gaze swung around the room, feeling the presence of my own. Catching eye contact with the chef as he pulled the order from the pass, I knew who it was. He gave me a dutiful tip of the head and turned to continue his work. The brunette behind the front counter was human, she was serving the couple while keeping her attention elsewhere.

Once the couple had left the restaurant, four human customers remained. Along with them, there were the four staff members. The demon chef, Sarah who was out the back of the kitchen dealing with a loose cannon. Then there was the brunette woman, her aura was discolored and mottled.

Discolouration and mottled could mean so many things but in this case, I was of the belief that she was a thief. The door pushed open and a scraggly fellow walked in, talked to the brunette and walked out again.

By the dirtied apron and shirt of the fellow, I'd say he was the busboy. The brunette looked like she had sucked on a lemon after he left, her eyes darting to the kitchen entrance. Sarah wandered out, her face showed displeasure about something. No doubt it had to do with the busboy.

She was staring at me again. Of course, she didn't know that I could see without the need to actually look at her. My attention was on my phone until I actually looked up. Then she dropped the plates.

I would have come to her aid again but the brunette was on it before I could even stand.

Seconds after the demon chef called for her, I was faced with her trembling hand and wide eyes. She was a pretty human, I thought of her too much and a jolt of pleasure coursed through me.

The plate was placed in front of me with a smile that became a frown as she looked at the wine bottle.

"Uh the chef found this, I don't know if it's any good, though. It looks too old and I've never heard of this vineyard before." she frowned harder. "Masters private collection, eighteen sixty-five."

"It's a grand year Sarah, sit and join me for a taste."

I took the bottle and poured a drink for her and myself, wondering where the chef hid this in his tiny kitchen. Hesitantly Sarah sat on the chair opposite me, taking the offered glass. Her eyes widened again as our fingers touched, the same bolt of emotion charging through the connection. I wanted to say that she would get used to it but until I tell her everything, there was no point.

Her nose hovered over the rim of the glass, soaking in the scent. It was incredibly erotic to watch her. When she was done with taking in the smell of the wine she pressed her lips to the glass and took a tentative sip.

Long black lashes fanned out over her milky skin, pressure on her lips caused them to darken for a brief moment. As her eyes opened her cheeks flushed with the softest pink.

Incredible my mind whispered.

"And what do you think of the wine Sarah?"

"It is the best I've ever had."

"Then stay and enjoy the bottle with me."

"Oh, I have to uh..."

Her eyes darted to another couple who had finished their dinner and were at the counter.

"I'm sure the thief will be able to handle a few dishes."

"Pardon?" she said as she frowned hard at me.

I pulled the cloth napkin and laid it over my lap, collecting the cutlery to start eating.

"The brunette." I said as I cut through the chicken breast "Is in cahoots with the busboy. You should check stock and take the keys off her tonight."

"How could you know such things?"

"Because I saw the busboy walk into the shop and talk to her. I saw her look at the kitchen door with the most awful scowl I've ever seen."

Sarah continued to frown at me, her delicate eyebrows pressing deep.

"And what of my chef? Are you going to tell me he is a thief as well?"

"Absolutely not, he is amazing. You should keep him. This is great chicken. In fact, you should ask him to stay in the shop overnight."

She sat back on the chair and folded her arms, looking at me with pure disbelief.

"What game are you playing at?"

"I do not play games, I merely advise of what I see. It is your decision if you chose to believe me or not. I'm not the one that will arrive tomorrow to an empty shop."

"Right," she said with so much disbelief in her voice. "Well, enjoy your meal."

Sarah stood to her feet, pausing for a moment.

"Do you want the rest of the bottle?"

"Only if you are going to stay and help me drink it."

"I have work to do, sorry."

She wandered off and cleaned the tables. I made short work of the meal thanks to the dog that really wasn't under the table. It would have been nice if he'd stayed where he was supposed to and not steal the delicious meal from me.

With him back to his figurine form and safely stowed in my pocket again, I wandered over to the counter. The brunette was miraculously not at her posting, leaving Sarah to tend to my needs. When it was all paid for Sarah looked at me, biting her lip. That was pretty damned fine.

Her eyes followed my movements as I pulled out a card.

"I can help you with so much, all you need to do is call me."

She took the card and looked at it, grinning softly.

I looked at the tip jar with derision.

"Does she share the tips with you?"

"I own this place so I don't take tips."

Of course, you don't. Her eyes lit up when I pulled out a hundred dollar bill.

"That's for you, not her. She did not serve me and therefore does not deserve any of it. Are we clear on that?"

She nodded and warily took the note, opening the register. It was slim pickings in there.

"Sarah that goes in your pocket, not in the till."

Slowly her fingers pushed the draw back in, clicking it shut.

"In your pocket."

With a soft giggle and pink cheeks, she slid the note into her pocket.

"There, wasn't so hard, was it?"

She offered a shrug as her eyes lowered.

"When was the last time you drew a wage?"

"I don't or haven't. I live on an inheritance but that's starting to run dry."

As I leaned on the bench I tapped on the card.

"Call me in the morning," I said quietly. "You won't regret it."