His for a Price – Part 1
He stepped into the café, smiling when our eyes met. I readily smiled back, for this man was one of my best customers. He typically showed up in the afternoon, once the lunchtime rush had subsided. His order was always the same: coffee with cream, no sugar. And his tips were so lavish as to be almost insulting. Almost. I was a poor college student in debt up to my eyeballs, so I was grateful for every penny. The man strode toward a table by the window, and I quickly followed. As usual, he was dressed in a suit that probably cost more than my entire wardrobe. I was shitty at guessing ages, but I thought he was in his late forties. His hair, entirely silver, provided a striking contrast to his youthful face. His …