Peace Hotel

Natasha gave Foggy Nelson a shy smile. She looked at him, gracefully accepted his business card, and said gratefully, "Thank you!"

"I didn't know those two big dogs were so fierce. Why did they want to attack me?"

Foggy was about to answer when the blind young man beside him poked him in the lower back with his cane. "We need to hurry. Alvin only makes fifty sizzling steaks a day. If we're too late, we'll miss out."

Reminded, Foggy nodded quickly. "Right, right. We'd better hurry."

"Sorry, miss. We have to get to our already-late dinner."

With that, Foggy pushed open the door and called to the blind young man. "Come on, Matt. I don't want to miss Alvin's sizzling steak."

Ignored by the two young men again, Natasha found it strange. A lot of things today hadn't gone the way she'd expected.

But that only made her more curious about what kind of place this was.

Two giant wolves blocked the entrance, so forcing her way in was clearly a bad idea. As an agent, though, she always had other options.

Natasha took out her phone and made a call. In a panicked voice, she said, "Hello, 911?"

"I'm on 34th Street in Hell's Kitchen. There are two giant wolves here, and I think they're going to attack me. Please come save me!"

About fifteen minutes later, a police car pulled up, and two officers got out.

A middle-aged officer approached Natasha first. "Miss, were you the one who called? Where are these giant wolves you mentioned?"

Natasha was astonished. The middle-aged officer had ignored the giant wolves right in front of him and come over to question her. Hadn't he seen the younger officer go up and greet them?

Natasha frowned. "Aren't those giant wolves? They nearly attacked me when I tried to enter this restaurant." She pointed at the two wolves, which were impatiently shooing the younger officer away.

The middle-aged officer smiled. "Those aren't giant wolves. They're the Peace Hotel owner's pet dogs, and they're registered with our precinct. They've never attacked anyone without cause. As for why they wanted to attack you... perhaps you've picked up a certain scent."

He gave Natasha a thoughtful look. The veteran officer had sensed something unusual about her.

"Oh," Natasha said. "Then if I go inside, you two officers won't just stand by and watch these, ah, pets attack me, will you?" She gave the middle-aged officer a pointed look.

The middle-aged officer, who had some suspicions about who Natasha was, gave a wry smile. "Of course you can go in. I guarantee Thor and Dom won't attack you. But I should warn you: the owner, Alvin, is a good man."

Natasha smiled without committing herself. Ignoring the warning in his words, she raised her chin slightly to indicate that she intended to go in.

Inside, the restaurant had only six tables and two booths along the wall. Every seat was already taken. Foggy and Matt found two spots at the counter.

"Matt, why were you in such a hurry back there? You don't meet a gorgeous woman around here every day! Oh, I forgot you can't see." Foggy had barely finished speaking when he noticed a slender, pretty girl behind the counter holding two glasses of lemonade. She had been about to set them in front of the two men, but after hearing Foggy, she handed one to a boy in a wheelchair behind the counter who was reading a book.

The boy grinned, showing a gap where two of his front teeth were missing. "Thanks, Jessica!" The girl placed the other glass in front of Matt and thoughtfully tapped it, making a clear ding. "Your lemonade. The sizzling steak will be a little late today, so please bear with us!"

Then she glared at Foggy, turned away from the counter, and went to settle the bill for a table of departing customers.

"Hey, Jess, you can't do that," Foggy protested. "Why don't I get a drink?" He turned to the boy behind the counter. "Hey, buddy, that lemonade in your hand should be mine. If you give it to me, Mr. Foggy Nelson will write you a letter of commendation."

The boy made a face at Foggy. He picked up the lemonade and imitated the way people on TV drank wine, swirling it, sniffing it, then taking a small, leisurely sip.

Good-natured Foggy made a comical show of baring his claws to scare the boy. The two of them played across the counter.

Matt smiled and shook his head, exasperated and amused by Foggy's carefree nature.

At the far end of the counter, against the wall, stood a stove with ten small burners. Alvin wore an apron and had his back to the counter as he tended ten sizzling steaks at once. Without turning around, he said, "Foggy, if you keep interrupting Mr. Nick Caster's reading, you can say goodbye to dinner tonight. Mr. Caster got a D in math yesterday."

"Hey, Alvin! We agreed you wouldn't tell anyone!" Nick waved his arms in protest.

Alvin still didn't turn around. "Yes, we agreed you'd stay quietly in your room and finish your homework today. But here you are in the restaurant again."

Nick sounded a little guilty. "You went out earlier, and Jessica was here alone. I wanted to help." Then, remembering something, he held up the book in his hand and waved it. "Besides, I was just reading." He put on an expression of great diligence.

"Yes, Mr. Caster, who loves reading. Can Batman in that book teach you how to get an A?" Alvin used a special pair of tongs to lift a finished sizzling steak onto a pinewood tray. Holding the tray in one hand, he set it on a rack attached to Nick's wheelchair. "Kid, take this to Stan. Talk to him about Batman and see if you can get a tip."

"Alvin, you can't do that! Nick's still a child. He just doesn't have a knack for studying. You can't force him; it'll only make things worse," Foggy protested, earning a huge eye roll from Nick.

"Foggy, you're telling a Chinese man how to raise a child? Are you sure about that?" A heavyset white man also waiting for his meal at the counter propped his chin on one hand, pushing the fat of his cheeks out to either side. He glanced respectfully at Alvin's busy back and continued flattering him. "You know Chinese kids do amazingly well in school. A teacher at my old school even said Chinese people know a kind of magic that makes their kids especially smart."

Foggy didn't seem to like the man. "Sheriff, why do I only see you here on this day every month? What are you waiting for? What brings the famous owner of Sheriff's Auto Shop here to sit obediently at this counter once a month? Don't tell me it's the steak."

"Hey, Foggy, show me some respect," Sheriff snapped, though he didn't say anything worse. Regulars knew Alvin hated swearing, especially when children were around.