4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Wanting Answers

Lila

My mind was in overdrive, refusing to grant me a moment's peace. My restless fingers couldn't stop tapping my device, constantly refreshing for updates on yesterday's events. I'd lost count of how many times I'd glanced at the screen, desperately seeking any information about what had transpired. But nada. Zilch. It's like that scream never happened and Axel never bolted out of here like his pants were on fire.

Speaking of fire, the sun's streaming through the food truck windows, but it's not doing much to warm up my mood. I'm on autopilot, wiping down counters for the umpteenth time when Sophie breezes in, all bouncy curls and morning cheer.

"Morning, Lila!" she chirps, then does a double-take. "Whoa, you look like you've been here since the Stone Age. Rough night?"

I try to smile, but it feels about as convincing as a rubber chicken. "That obvious, huh?"

Sophie's tying on her apron, eyeing me like I'm a puzzle she's trying to solve. "You've got bags under your bags, boss. What gives? You're usually Little Miss Sunshine in the morning."

I hesitate for a sec. I mean, how do you even start to explain yesterday's weirdness? But if I can't spill to Sophie, who can I talk to? "Something weird happened yesterday," I start, setting down my cleaning cloth. "After you left."

Sophie's eyes light up like it's Christmas morning. "Ooh, do tell. Was it that hunky health inspector again?"

I feel my cheeks warming up. Damn it. "Actually, yeah. I went to his office to show him the improvements we've made."

"Really?" Sophie's eyebrows shoot up so high they might as well be in orbit. "Proactive move, boss. I'm impressed. So what happened? Did he swoon over our sparkling clean counters?"

I roll my eyes, but I can't help smiling a little. "It wasn't like that, Soph. I was just trying to be thorough."

"Uh-huh, sure," she says, clearly not buying it. "So what made it weird then? Did he confess his undying love for your garlic pizza crust?"

And just like that, my smile's gone. "We were talking when suddenly there was this scream from somewhere nearby. Mr. Anderson just... changed. He got all intense and pushed me back, told me to stay and not open the door for anyone but him, then he ran off."

Sophie's jaw drops like I just told her pigs can fly. "No way! What did you do?"

"I decided not to stick around even if he told me to stay put. Who does he think he is? He can't just boss me around like that. And I was scared." I admit, feeling that knot of worry tighten in my gut again. "I tried calling his office this morning, but they said he hasn't come in yet. And there's nothing on the news or online about any kind of incident."

"That is weird," Sophie agrees, her forehead all scrunched up. "Do you think someone was hurt? Do you think he's okay?"

I shrug, feeling about as useful as a chocolate teapot. "I don't know. You should have seen his face, Soph. He looked... scared. And Mr. Anderson doesn't seem like the type to scare easily."

Sophie's about to say something else when a customer raps on the serving window. We exchange a look—this conversation isn't over—before slipping into our usual routine.

The morning rush keeps us hopping, but my mind keeps drifting back to Axel. Where is he? Is he all right? And what in the world happened yesterday?

I'm just finishing up a fresh batch of garlic bread when I spot Gio Rossi, owner of the sleek "Rossi's Risotto" truck, sauntering over like he's God's gift to Italian cuisine.

Great. Just what I need today.

I plaster on a smile as he leans against my window, all gleaming teeth and calculating eyes. "Lila, darling," he purrs, "Have you had any more trouble with the health inspector? Such a shame, truly."

I bristle at his tone, but I keep my voice level. "Thanks for your concern, Gio, but we're handling it."

"Of course, of course." He waves a dismissive hand. "I'm sure you'll have everything up to code in no time. Though, it must be difficult, running this old clunker all on your own."

My grip tightens on the serving spoon. If I'm not careful, I might bend it. "I manage just fine, thanks."

"Oh, I don't doubt it." His smile turns predatory. "But you know, if you ever need any advice or support, my door is always open."

I fight the urge to scoff. Like I'd ever take business tips or want to get close to a snake like Gio. "That's very generous of you," I say through gritted teeth, "but I've got it covered."

He leans in closer, his cologne so strong I'm pretty sure it's melting my nose hairs. "Just remember, Lila, this is a cutthroat industry. One wrong move and," he snaps his fingers, "poof, you're yesterday's news."

My blood's boiling, but I refuse to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. "I'll keep that in mind."

"You do that." He straightens, smoothing his designer shirt. "Well, I should get back to my adoring customers. Ciao, bella."

With a final smirk, he saunters away, leaving me seething in his wake.

"What was that all about?" Sophie asks, poking her head out from the back.

I shake my head, still glaring at Gio's retreating form. "Just Gio being his usual charming self."

"Ugh, that guy." Sophie wrinkles her nose. "He's so slimy, I bet he leaves a trail."

I snort out a laugh, feeling some of the tension ease from my shoulders. "Probably. But what I don't get is why he's suddenly so interested in my business."

Sophie shrugs. "Maybe he sees you as a threat."

I raise an eyebrow. "Me? A threat to Gio Rossi?"

"Think about it, Lil. You're the only other Italian truck on this block. And your pizza is way better than his panini sandwiches."

I mull that over as I start prepping for the dinner crowd. Could Sophie be right? Could Gio actually be worried about little old me stealing his customers?

"You know what, Soph?" I say, reaching for a pot. "I think it's time we reminded everyone why they love our pizza so much."

Sophie grins, bumping my hip with hers. "Now that's the Lila I know. Let's show this block what real Italian cooking tastes like. Hey, maybe we need to add paninis to the menu."

We both bust out laughing.

The lunch rush keeps us busy, and for a while, I'm able to lose myself in the rhythm of cooking. But as the crowd thins and the afternoon lull sets in, my thoughts inevitably drift back to Axel.

I'm scrubbing down the counter for what feels like the millionth time today when I spot him - Axel, standing across the street, his intense gaze fixed on my food truck. My heart does a little somersault as our eyes meet.

"Sophie," I call out, my voice sounding weird even to me. "Can you watch the truck for a few minutes? I need to step out."

Sophie pokes her head out from the back, a knowing smirk on her face as she follows my gaze. "Ooh, I see. Mr. Health Inspector's back. Go get 'em, tiger."

I roll my eyes, but I can feel my face heating up. "It's not like that. I just need to ask him about... yesterday."

"Uh-huh, sure," Sophie says, clearly not buying it. "Don't worry, I've got things covered here. Take your time."

"Thanks, Soph," I say, already moving towards the door. "I won't be long."

Taking a deep breath, I step out of the truck and make my way across the street to where Axel is standing. As I get closer, I can see the tension in his shoulders, the furrow in his brow. Whatever happened yesterday, it's clearly still bugging him.

"Mr. Anderson," I say, proud of how steady my voice sounds despite the butterflies doing the cha-cha in my stomach. "I... I was worried when you didn't come back yesterday. Is everything okay?"

Axel's expression is a mix of concern and something else I can't quite place. "Ms. Taylor," he nods, his voice low. "I apologize for my abrupt departure yesterday. There was an... urgent matter I had to attend to."

I frown, not satisfied with his vague answer. "An urgent matter? That scream... was someone hurt? I looked for news reports, but there was nothing."

Axel shifts uncomfortably, his eyes darting around like he's checking for spies or something. "The situation was... handled discreetly. I'm afraid I can't give you more details."

"But why were you involved? You're a health inspector, not a cop."

"Yes, that is true, but I am part of the neighborhood watch and it is my duty to report to the police anything out of the normal."

"Okay, but why is it being handled discreetly?" I press, studying his face. He looks tired, with dark circles under his eyes that make me want to hand him a pillow and tell him to take a nap.

He manages a small smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "I'm sorry, Ms. Taylor. I appreciate your concern, but I can't answer your questions."

"Lila," I correct him automatically. "Please, call me Lila."

Axel nods, his expression softening slightly. "Lila. I truly am sorry for leaving you in the dark. I hope you understand that there are some aspects of my life that require... discretion."

I'm about to ask what kind of neighborhood watch requires that level of secrecy when a commotion down the street catches our attention. A crowd is gathering around Gio's truck, angry voices rising above the normal street noise. As we watch, a man staggers away from the window, doubled over and retching.

"Could be food poisoning," Axel mutters, his body tensing up like a coiled spring. He turns to me, his expression suddenly all business. "I need to investigate this."

I nod, understanding the urgency of the situation. "Of course, go. I hope no one's seriously hurt."

Axel hesitates, his eyes searching mine like he's trying to read my mind or something. "Lila, can I make it up to you? Would you be willing to meet with me later? There are some things I'd like to discuss with you, about your food truck."

My heart does another little flip. He wants to see me again? But why? "My food truck? Is there a problem?"

"No, no problem," he assures me quickly. "I just have some suggestions that might help you avoid future violations. I thought we could go over them together, maybe over coffee?"

I blink, surprised by his offer. "Oh. Um, sure, that would be great. When were you thinking?"

"How about tomorrow morning, before your truck opens? There's a café just down the street, The Cozy Bean's. They make a mean espresso."

I can't help but smile at his choice of venue. "I know it well. The owner's daughter is in my pizza-making class."

Axel's eyebrows lift, a hint of a smile playing at his lips. "You teach pizza-making?"

I shrug, feeling a blush creep up my neck. "Just a little side gig. I like to share what my Nonna taught me."

"Impressive," he says, and I can tell he means it. "I'll have to sign up for a class sometime."

My blush deepens at the thought of teaching Axel how to roll out dough. "I'd be happy to give you a private lesson," I say before I can stop myself.

Oh god, did I really just say that?

Axel's eyes widen slightly, and I swear I see a flash of heat in their depths. But before he can respond, another cry from Gio's truck grabs our attention.

"I really should..." Axel trails off, gesturing towards the growing chaos.

"Go," I urge, trying to ignore the flutter in my stomach. "I'll see you tomorrow at The Cozy Bean's. 6 AM?"

"6 AM," he confirms with a nod. "I'm looking forward to it."

With a final, lingering look, Axel turns and strides towards Gio's truck, his broad shoulders squared with purpose. I watch him go, my mind reeling from our conversation.

Did I really just agree to a coffee date with Axel Anderson? And did I seriously offer to give him a private lesson? What was I thinking?

I shake my head, trying to clear the swirling thoughts. It's not a date, I remind myself firmly. It's a business meeting. He just wants to give me some advice about the food truck. That's all.

But as I make my way back to Taylor Made Pizza, I can't quite silence the tiny voice in the back of my mind that whispers, "What if it's more than that?"

Sophie is waiting for me when I step back into the truck, her eyebrows raised. "Well? What did Mr. Tall, Dark, and Health Inspector want?"

I bustle past her, grabbing a fresh batch of pizza dough. "He just wanted to set up a meeting to discuss some suggestions for the truck. No big deal."

"Uh-huh," Sophie says, her tone dripping with skepticism. "A 'meeting.' Sure. And I'm the Queen of England."

I shoot her a look over my shoulder. "It's not like that, Soph. It's strictly business."

"Right. Because health inspectors always arrange one-on-one meetings with food truck owners they've cited. Totally normal."

I sigh, knowing she's not going to let this go. "Look, even if there was something else going on - which there isn't - I don't have time for distractions right now."

Sophie's expression softens. "I know, Lil. I'm just teasing. But for what it's worth, I think a little distraction might be good for you. You've been working yourself to the bone lately."

I pause, letting her words sink in. She's not wrong. Between the truck and my classes and the constant worry about finances, I can't remember the last time I did something just for me.

Maybe coffee with Axel isn't such a bad idea. Even if it is just about the truck.

"You might be right," I concede, turning back to the stove. "A little break from the grind couldn't hurt."

Sophie grins, bumping my hip with hers as she reaches for a stack of to-go containers. "That's the spirit. Just promise me one thing?"

"What's that?"

"If he tries to woo you with talk of refrigerator temperatures and expiration dates, run."

I laugh, feeling the tension of the day finally start to ease from my shoulders.

"Deal."

Later that evening, I collapse into bed, exhausted from the day's events. My mind is still reeling from my conversation with Axel and the commotion at Gio's truck.

As I'm about to drift off, a distant howl pierces the night, sending a shiver down my spine. It's not unusual to hear dogs in the city, but something about this howl feels... different. Wilder, somehow.

I sit up, straining my ears. It almost sounds like it's coming from right outside...

Frowning, I pad over to the window. The street below is empty, bathed in the sickly yellow glow of the streetlights. But as I lean in to close the window, I catch a whiff of something unfamiliar.

It's a musky, earthy scent, like wet leaves and wood smoke. But there's something else too, something sharp and metallic that makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

I take a deep breath, trying to place it. It's not a smell I've ever encountered before, and it definitely doesn't belong in the middle of the city.

Unease prickles at my skin as I latch the window shut. Maybe it's just the stress of the day getting to me, but I can't shake the feeling that something's not right.

I wrap my arms around myself, suddenly chilled despite the warmth of my apartment. The howl echoes in my mind, haunting and forlorn.

"It's just a dog," I mutter to myself, trying to shake off the eerie feeling. "Probably belongs to one of the neighbors."

The strange scent lingers, a reminder of the unseen presence outside.