Rouzan was running late but her car was running on fumes, so despite her better judgment, when she passed her father’s gas station on Magnolia, she pulled in to fill up.
Her father hadn’t told her what had happened to the last guy that ran the station, but she’d heard the lurid details from Joaquin, her favorite bag boy. She knew about the two guys who’d robbed the place, murdered Vardan and nearly killed an off-duty cop. One of the pump islands was still out of commission, scorched by the fire that had been touched off by a stray bullet. The killers still hadn’t been caught.
Rouzan hadn’t liked Vardan. He’d told her father more than once that he fancied her but fortunately her father hadn’t been thrilled by the idea of her hooking up with one of his goons. Less fortunately, her father seemed to know an awful lot of Armenian lawyers in need of a wife. But then, it wasn’t really a surprise that he knew so many lawyers.
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The gas station formerly known as Vardan’s
Magnolia Blvd.
Find out what's happening in North Hollywood-Toluca Lakewith free, real-time updates from Patch.
North Hollywood, CA 91601
6:23 a.m.
Nick Sarkissian saw Rouzan’s car pull up to pump #8 and watched her slide gracelessly out of the driver’s seat. She was a little plump for his taste, but not bad looking. He’d seen plenty of surveillance pictures of her—taken at her apartment, taken at the supermarket where she worked, taken at her parents’ home on the rare occasions she visited—but he’d never been this close to her in the flesh. He’d been following her since Christmas Day when she dumped a fur coat her father had given her into a Goodwill bin and then had gone to the movies.
Nick was pretty sure the girl had nothing to do with her father’s business but she was the daughter of the most powerful pakhan in the city, so it paid to cover the bases.
“Hi,” he said as Rouzan entered.
“Hi,” she answered and she really looked at him when she did. Nick had only been working at the station for a week and he hated the way people rarely made eye contact with him, even as they handed over their cash and thanked him for their change.
He’s really cute, Rouzan thought.
She handed him a $20 bill, knowing it would buy her less than five gallons. “I’d like twenty dollars’ worth on number eight, please.”
Nick liked that she said “please.” He’d been around Rouzan’s older brother enough to know that “please” was not even in his vocabulary.
“You got it,” Nick said and smiled.
He is really, really cute, Rouzan thought again and felt guilty about the new manager at work who was so sweet on her. He was a nice guy and she liked him well enough but not enough to go out with him. She’d told him she didn’t think it was a good idea to date guys you worked with and he’d been disappointed but backed off.
***
When Nick came around the counter as Rouzan turned away, she thought he was going to tidy some merchandise, but he followed her out to her car and casually unhooked the hose from the pump.
“What are you doing?” she asked. “This is self-service.”
“You’re on your way to work, right?” Nick asked. “You don’t want to show up smelling like petroleum products instead of …” he sniffed, “like oranges and vanilla.”
Rouzan gaped at him.
Oh my God.
“You want regular?” Nick asked.
“Yes, please,” she said and felt the blush burning her cheeks.
He’s got nice hands, Rouzan thought. She always noticed guys’ hands. She liked watching them shake hands with other guys. She liked watching them tie their ties, not that many guys she knew actually wore ties any more.
Nick holstered the hose and screwed the gas cap back on as Rouzan thought about how much she’d like to have those nice hands on her.
What is wrong with you? she scolded herself. You know the kinds of guys who work here.
“There you go,” Nick said, snapping her out of her reverie.
“Have you worked here long?” she blurted out, not wanting to end the encounter just yet.
Bingo, Nick thought and gave her another slow smile.
Flustered, Rouzan added, “I come in here all the time and there’s usually another guy … Vardan?”
Nick put on a serious face.
“Vardan has moved on,” he said. “I’m Nick.”
“Nice to meet you Nick,” she said.
“Nice to meet you,” he said, and let the question dangle.
“Rouzan,” she said. “My name is Rouzan.”
“Pretty name,” he said and let his gaze linger on her mouth.
Rouzan realized she was staring at him.
“Well, nice to meet you,” she said again.
Oh God, I sound like a moron.
She made a show of looking at her cell phone.
“Yikes,” she said. “I’m late.”
“Can’t have that,” he said. “See you soon Rouzan,” he added.
Oh yes, she thought. Yes you will.
***
As soon as Rouzan drove away, Nick pulled out his own cell phone and called his partner, who’d watched everything from a nearby surveillance van branded with the Time-Warner cable logo. “See you soon,” Grady mimicked in a falsetto.
“Screw you,” Nick said without heat. He was already thinking about how Rouzan was his ticket into the inner circle. He knew her father wouldn’t be pleased to have him moving in on his daughter but if Rouzan was happy, he’d come around.
Nick had no doubt he could make Rouzan happy.
He smiled again, thinking about it. If this case went well, he could be out of undercover for good, maybe get back to the FBI’s New York office, maybe even score a gig as a LEGAT in their London office.
His wife would like that.
