I don’t bother turning to the timid man who spoke from behind the front counter. Janie is already approaching him, using her sweetest voice as she explains that we need a place to hide for a few minutes.
It’s going to be longer than a few minutes. This shop is tiny, and I’m pretty sure our one way out is the door currently standing as the only barrier between me and a few dozen rabid fans.
“Okay,” the man says, “but I can’t lock the door during business hours. Fire code and all that.”
“Trust me,” Janie says. “You’re not going to want to let anyone inside.”
“What about letting anyone out?” a different voice asks.
I look up from a display of clay magnets shaped like rock arches, meeting the gaze of a woman whose arms are folded across her chest as she glares at Janie. Aside from who I’m guessing is the shop owner, she’s the only other person in here, which is a blessing. Or maybe a curse, given she looks like she’s ready to fight Hunter for a chance to escape.
Something about her almost makes me think she could win.
“Do you have a back door?” I ask, pulling my eyes from the woman to finally look at the guy behind the counter.
He rolls his eyes, scowling at me. “Yeah, but I can’t just let you…” His eyes go wide, and I brace myself. “You’re Derek Riley!”
Wincing, I glance at the woman—her murderous expression hasn’t changed—and take a couple of steps toward the owner. Hunter tenses the closer I get, but I ignore him. “Yes,” I admit slowly, “but I don’t really want anyone out there to know that.” I gesture at the door, where several people have pressed their faces to the glass to see inside. I’m hoping they can’t get a good enough look at me to really confirm whether the woman outside saw who she thinks she saw. I turn away from the door, just in case.
The womaninsidescoffs. “I think they know.”
When I glance at her, I’m surprised by her continued frustration. No one would enjoy being locked in a tiny shop like this, but most people would love getting stuck in here withme. She looks like this situation is her worst nightmare.
Of all the reactions… I rub my chest, disliking the tightness that starts growing there.
The owner, dressed in a burnt orange t-shirt and sporting curly hair and a scruffy beard, glances from me to the woman behind me. He still looks like his wildest dreams have come true. “Uh, sorry, Donovan, but I probably shouldn’t unlock the door.”
The woman—Donovan?—groans. “This isyourbusiness, Chuck! You can do whatever you want.” When Chuck shrugs, she sighs heavily. “Then let me use your back door before things get worse.”
She must be a local. I wonder if she doesn’t know who I am, unlike her starstruck friend, Chuck. Turning to her again, I offer a sheepish smile. “Most likely they’ve found the back door too.”
Hunter grabs a t-shirt from a nearby display and spreads it over the door, holding it in place with his arm. It just means the people outside shift down to look in from the bottom half of the door, but at least it’ll be harder for them to see anything. “Boss is right,” he says to Donovan. “They’ll give up eventually.”
“How long is ‘eventually’?” she asks him, narrowing her eyes.
He looks at me. I shrug. Then he mirrors the gesture as he says, “Depends on how determined they are.”
“So much for dinner,” Janie mutters and hops onto the counter, seating herself in front of Chuck and pulling out her phone, hopefully to start doing some damage control. “Sorry, Derek.”
It’s my fault. Cole threw me off like he always does, and I lost focus. Showed my face. I know better than to lower my guard, but I was really hoping I could be normal for once.
Ha.
Though my heart starts to race, I force myself to stay focused and do what I can to fix this before things get worse. “Whatever you would have made in sales while we’re here,” I tell Chuck, “I’ll pay double that if you let us stay.”
His jaw drops, and I can almost see his thoughts processing as he tries to figure out a way to work this more to his advantage. I don’t care if he tells me that he would have sold out of everything in the next two hours; I’ll gladly pay for all of it if it means I can hide out until at least some of the people out there lose interest.
“What if they cause damage trying to get in?” Donovan asks. Her gaze is sharp when I look at her again. “What if we’re stuck here for hours?” She looks like she’s contemplating trying the back door even if it’s surrounded by people.
Dropping my voice into a low register, I keep my words soft as I say, “I’m really sorry you got stuck here with us, Donovan.”
She snorts, studying me with plenty of derision beneath a layer of anxiety in her eyes. They’re a vivid green color, a nice contrast to the deep red of her hair. Actually, she has the kind of distinct features that would translate really well to the screen, though based on her reception to me, I don’t think she’d be interested in acting. Or me. Not that I want her interest.
“Don’t say my name like you know me,” she snaps and takes a couple of steps toward the door, looking like a caged animal.
She’s more nervous than she should be.
I wish I could help her, but I’m as trapped here as she is. I don’t know how to calm her down, so I study her, trying to glean any useful details instead of letting my thoughts stray to how I should have done things differently to avoid this problem in the first place. I need to keep a level head and focus on helping Donovan get out of here.
