Chapter 3

When I couldn't run any more, I stopped at an alley and took a deep breath. Running wasn't easy for me because of the obvious fact. I took deep breaths in and out and waited for my body to calm down before I continued my journey. "Why are you running? I'm not going to hurt you." I lift my head at the voice, and I was met with the same enchanting blue eyes that hunted my dreams last night. "Who are you?" I trembled as I reach for my pocket knife. He held his hands up. "I'm not trying to hurt you. I'm here to help." "Help?" I asked with a frown on my face. He nodded, "Yes, help. Yesterday you bumped into me and then I saw you again in Time Square sitting on the ground. I want to help." "Help how? You still haven't told me who you are." I stilling fighting to find the knife in the side of my bag. C'mon. When I don't want you, you're there, and when I need you, I don't know where the hell you are. "Come have lunch with me, and I'll explain everything." I looked at him up and down. He didn't seem like the type who would kidnap, rape or steal from anyone but you can't be too certain these days. Criminals can dress up and look nice too. "I swear on my mother's life I'm not going to hurt you. All I want to do is help." I sighed and gave in. We were in public after all, what stunt could he possibly pull with hundreds of persons walking around. "Okay, fine but I have a knife in my bag. Try something, and I will cut you." "Deal." he walked crosser to be causing me to back away. "I want to take the bag from you. You're pregnant you're not supposed to be carrying anything heavy. It's not good for you or the baby." I looked into his sympathetic eyes and handed him my bag with caution. He didn't like the type of man who would want anything from a homeless girl's bag, so why not let him hold it. There was nothing in there to steal unless he liked second-hand clothes, artbooks and pencils. "Follow me." he turned and mentioned for me to follow him, which I did. Ever so often he'd look behind him to see if I was still there. Even if I wanted to run away from him, I wouldn't. Not without the three thousand dollars that were in my purse. It was all the money I had, and I was too was far along, anything could happen. After a few minutes of walking, we entered a simple restaurant. We took a seat close to the window. "So?" I asked as I looked in his eyes. "Explanation time. Start with your name and who you work for." "My name is Uvaldo Dakoda." I frowned at his unusual name. "Is that really your name?" He lifted his hands off the table and went in his pocket to retrieve his wallet. He took out his ID and Driver's license and placed it in front of him. That was his real name. "You have an unusual name." "Is that a compliment or ..." "Oh, it's a compliment. It's a lovely name. Unlike my name, Tiffany. Everyone has that name. People always make lame jokes about it too." My real name wasn't Tiffany; it was just something I started calling myself so that people who asked would have an answer. "I think Tiffany is a beautiful name." I couldn't stop the small blush from creeping up my face. "Well, prefer Jakoby." He frowned and raised his brows, "Jakoby?" "My last name." Jakoby wasn't my last name. It was my first name or short of it. My real name was Jakobia Taylor. Everyone who knew me called me Jakoby because it was cooler and easier to say. He smiled for the first time since I laid eyes on him, "Okay, Jakoby." "Okay, Uvaldo." A waiter came put to the table and looked between us. "What can I get for you two today?" "An Earl Grey tea and a blueberry muffin for me," Uvaldo answered without looking at the menu. Maybe he was a regular. The waiter looked over at me and but I didn't know what to say, so I looked at Uvaldo. I didn't want to order something too cheap to offend him, and I didn't want to order something too expensive, either. Even though he was wearing a nice tailored suit, I didn't mean he likes to spend money on homeless teenage strangers he met on the road. "Give her an EBC sandwich with peppermint tea." Uvaldo requested as he made my order for me. I wasn't quite sure what exactly an EBC was, but I'll find out. The peppermint tea was right on point. Always mint, never coffee. Even before I was pregnant, I never was a big fan of caffeine. It would bring you up and tear you down. When the waiter left the table was silent, so I decided to speak up. "So, who do you work for?" he must work for some agency, why else would be wasting his time sitting in front of a homeless teen. Maybe he was a pastor or one of those religious people who had groups. "I work for no one." "You're unemployed?" "No. I own a business. I'm the boss." "Oh. So, in that case, how exactly are you going to help me? By giving me a job?" A job would be good at the moment. I could save enough money to get an apartment for the baby and me. "No." he shook his head, "Not a job. Not yet. You're too far along to be working. You should be resting in this stage of pregnancy and yet you're on the streets of New York begging." I frowned at his words, ready to defend myself. "Look...do you."