“I’ve never met anyone like him. I thought that even before… the other stuff.” The table closest to us was empty, but I still kept my voice down. The last thing I wanted was to spill Alex’s secrets. “I just hate that I don’t know what to do.”
“Again, not an expert, but like I said, give him some time, then apologize. That sounds like a pretty solid plan.”
“Maybe you’re right…”
“Does that mean you’ll buy me another drink? Today has sucked so bad.”
I chuckled. “Nope. It means I’ll drive you back to my place and we can keep each other company, so neither of us can get too far into our own heads.”
Will glanced over at the bar for a moment, then shrugged. “Sounds good to me. Let’s get out of here.”
We’d driven separately, but even though Will hadn’t crossed the line into being drunk, he still had enough alcohol in him that neither of us wanted him behind the wheel. He locked up his car and handed me the keys, settling in the passenger seat of my car while I drove us back to my place.
I’d have to figure out what I was going to do sooner rather than later. Will’s advice was decent, but I knew Alex well enough to know that he shouldn’t be left alone too long with his thoughts, either. Until I knew for sure how to fix this, though, I didn’t want to reach out and risk making things worse than they already were. If he didn’t reach out over the weekend, I’d call him Monday morning. I couldn’t handle the distance between us longer than that.
With a plan in mind, I could relax a little. I loaned Will some clean clothes to sleep in and we crashed out on the couch, watching bad action movies and trying not to think about anything at all.
Chapter 9
Alex
SteppingintoALikelyStory felt like coming home.
Aunt Lizzie had carefully planned every inch of the shop out and even now, almost seven years after her passing, her touches could be seen everywhere I looked. I’d updated a few things and rearranged some furniture, but the heart of the place remained.
When I’d first taken over, walking through the doors had sent me to my knees, the grief stabbing through me like a knife. Coming inside now brought me more comfort than just about anything else. Even now, weighed down by everything on my mind, a sense of soft comfort settled over me when I unlocked the doors.
Saturday had passed with no word from Donovan. Sundays were a short day for me at the shop, but I’d left my house at my usual Sunday time, which meant I still had an hour to kill before I officially opened. I almost always used that time to linger over a late breakfast at Buns ‘n’ Roses, but going there meant admitting to Raina I hadn’t talked to Donovan, so I’d skipped it today. She’d probably be by at some point asking questions, but I’d deal with that if and when it happened. Eventually I’d have to cave, though, because I wanted to talk to Camille and see if she’d go visit Ori with me again sometime. I clearly needed more advice, but going alone was intimidating.
I left the main lights off and made my way into my small office. The skylights overhead let in more than enough morning light for me to see, not that I needed it. I knew this place better than I knew my own home.
Last week had been a surprisingly decent sales week, so ordering new inventory took up a decent chunk of time. I wanted to feature more independent authors and added just as many books to my to-read pile as I did to the shop’s inventory. I kept a newsletter for the store and spent the last few minutes before opening preparing an email with tentative dates for Drag Story Hour. Hopefully, I’d get some decent interest from it.
After one final walk-through of the store, I flipped over the sign and unlocked the door. Sunday mornings weren’t exactly bustling, so I usually spent the time taking care of the plants scattered all over the shop. I could count on one hand the number of customers I’d had on Sunday morning for the past month and have fingers left over.
So hearing the bell over the door jingle as I made my way over to my monstera came as a bit of a surprise. Naturally, a customer would walk in while I had a heavy watering can in my hands that I now had to find a spot for. It ended up tucked between two shelves, out of the way, so I could hurry to the front.
Instead of my usual weekend clientele, I found Ori Castellos standing at my front counter, looking completely at ease. If I believed in that kind of thing, I’d almost think I’d summoned them by thinking about them earlier.
“Good morning,” I stammered, quickly burying my surprise and pulling on years of customer service experience. “How’re you?”
“I’m doing well. And you?” They smiled, but I couldn’t tell if they were being friendly or amused at my reaction.
“Good. I’m good. Um… did you need help finding a book?”
They shook their head. Ori had bound their hair up today in a messy bun, long strands of dark hair framing their face. Despite the freezing temperatures outside, Ori’s jeans were artfully ripped, and they’d opted for a lightweight coat that definitely wasn’t suited for Colorado winters. Or Colorado springs, which were basically Colorado winters, the sequel. My weather app called for snow before the end of the day.
“I actually stopped by to check in with you,” they continued, pulling me back to the conversation at hand. “We went over a lot of information when you stopped by and I had a feeling I should come visit. I just wanted to see if there was anything I could do to help?”
I made a mental note to revisit that whole ‘summoning’ idea later.
“Actually, I was thinking about stopping by to see you sometime this week,” I admitted. “Turns out I suck at meditation.”
“Most people do, don’t feel bad,” they assured me. “If you have some time to talk, maybe I could help?”
“I have nothing but time at the moment.”
“Mornings are slow for me, too. That’s why I changed to later hours,” Ori laughed. “Alright. Can I ask why you decided to start with meditation?”
