The bell above the door tinkled quietly as someone entered the bar. Mitchell looked up from the floor and frowned at the young black man standing just inside the double wooden doors. Should’ve locked those.
The man was Mitchell’s age, maybe a few years younger, and wore a bulky winter coat he held closed at the neck with one hand to keep the snow out. His cheeks were a dark red, like cherry-tinted cappuccino, flushed from the bitter wind. As he surveyed the empty room, his dark eyes glistened. When his gaze settled on Mitchell, he grinned, revealing straight, white teeth that almost shone in the dim light. Then he tugged off the striped cap covering his head to reveal a head full of long, tight curls that sprang free above a heart-shaped face. Running a hand through his hair in some attem
