“Josie! What a surprise to see you here!”
Oh, crapsticks! I blink, staring into the face of that weird Niles von Redscarf, from the other night in the shop. Mr. Amex Black Card is dressed to the nines; from his chinos to his forehead, there’s not a wrinkle in sight. His face is so rigid, it kind of looks…dead. Ew.
“Hey. Here to explore, or are you on a mission for something specific?” I keep my tone light, aiming for breezy and nonchalant. Like I’m not at all creeped out that the guy who spent hours lurking around Grace & Honor, a good two-hour drive from here, is somehow standing in front of me now. As if it’s a coincidence. I shove away the memory of the chipped creamer—the way the sharp edge sliced my skin.
The way Niles just stood looking at me with his plastic, unreadable face and nineties hair when I instinctively brought the cut to my lips.
My finger throbs, like it knows I’m thinking about it.
The bandage is gone, but the thought won’t leave:Did he poison me somehow?
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly.Chill out, girl. It’s entirely possible this is a coincidence.
“Actually, I came for the pleasure of your company. You mentioned this event, remember.”
“Oh, right.” No bell rings in my memory. Did I really mentionToygasmtothis guy? I can’t imagine that I did. For the last few months, saying the wordToygasmhas made me giggle so hard that Honor made me practice it in the mirror like a mantra:I am serious. I can sayToygasmwithout laughing. I can’t imagine I offered it voluntarily to Frozen Face. “It’s going to be a busy day, though,” I say, trying desperately to sound like I have better things to do. “Lots of customers so far.” Of course, for the first time since we opened, my booth is empty.
Niles leans in way too close, his eyes locking onto mine with this intense stare that cranks the awkwardness up another level. Which is impressive, honestly, because I didn’t think I could feel more awkward than I already did, standing here, holding a remote-control butt plug in the curlicue shape of a pig’s tail.
“I’d always go the extraNilesfor a moment with you,” he says softly.
I laugh while stepping back from his bad wordplay like a fart.
“Well, good thing you’ve got the whole expo to dazzle you. Anything catch your eye?” I gesture vaguely toward the colorful displays behind me, hoping he gets the hint and takes his weird energy somewhere else. Wouldn’t he rather hit on the lady working over at the Spank Bank? She looks ready for anything. “Everything is Beatles-themed at the Cum Together booth.”
Niles shrugs, and now we fall into one of those bizarre prolonged silences—like he’s buffering. “This whole scene is quite a…carnal carnival,” he says finally, his face lit up with pride at his latest bit of wordplay.
“Right,” I say awkwardly. “There’s lots of funny names here. There’s the Friction Fiction booth over there. I think that’s some kind of audiobook app with…sensors? And I might grab lunch later at the Tickle My Pickle sandwich booth, or—” but now I stop, watching his eyes go wide.
“We could go together,” he says flirtatiously. “A bite to eat, on me? Dildonuts looks good.”
“Um.” I make a face of pretend regret. “I actually have to work all day, so—”
“Of course. You’re busy,” he says, smooth as butter. “Actually, I came here to find out when you could have dinner.” He takes out his phone. “And I won’t take no for an answer. Tonight, or whenever you’re free this week. I have a standing reservation at Le Palais Gastronomique. I know the chef quite well—he’s a magician. There’s a truffle-infused snail tartare that might sound peculiar, but is…” He makes a little chef’s kiss with his fingers, which makes his plumped lips wobble. Then he leans in, dropping his voice in a way that I guess is supposed to be sexy. “Come on, Josie. Try me. For something new and different.”
My stomach turns in disgust.
“I…I can’t. I’m sorry. I…” Does this man not sense that he is kind of the human version of snail tartare—slimy, niche, and definitely not to everyone’s taste? But he’s also a Grace & Honor customer. I need to let him down gently. “Listen, Niles, I think you’re cool, and I hope we can be friends. But I can’t date you. I just got out of a very serious relationship, and, yeah.” I sigh as if it’s beyond my powers. “Not dating at the moment.”
“Okay, okay. You don’t have to tell me twice.” He smiles and lifts his hands in the air, as if to say no harm, no foul. “Not interested, no problem.”
I relax my shoulders. Phew.
“By the way,” he says, “I read my tarot this morning, and I pulled the Tower. I noticed your shop sold tarot cards. Do you know anything about how to interpret that?”
Seriously? He’s asking me about tarot? I feel myself perk up. The only thing more fun than talking to people about sex toys is talking to them about tarot. Maybe Niles is more interesting than I realized.
“I do! My nonna taught me when I was young. I never miss a day.”
“Me, either, though I’m still a beginner,” he says. “I have many decks, but my favorite is one I found in Prague. I was there for work and stumbled upon this antiquities auction, and it called to me. I knew it was meant to be mine.”
Okay, that’s…unexpectedly cool. His veneers, though—so blindingly white, like the grille of a Cadillac, headlights on. But he means to be friendly, I think.
“Drawing the Tower usually means change is on the horizon,” I tell him. “It can be unsettling, but it’s a chance for renewal.”
He nods. “Thanks—that makes sense.” He reaches forward and clasps my hand, his touch warm but a little too lingering. “I really appreciate the insight. Finding you feels like picking up a private conversation with a dear old friend.” Now he looks so wistful and sad, and my heart tugs with pity. “I don’t have that many close friends.”
I nod, not sure what to say to that.
