I dust around Lucifer, curled up in his usual spot in the window, as his majesty can’t be bothered to move himself. Despite his faults, he at least leaves the contents of the store alone, and he really does add to the atmosphere. A black cat is just such a good fit for an oddities store.
I wish he would at least let me pet him occasionally, though. Pausing my dusting, I hesitantly reach out to stroke his midnight head with one finger, but before I can get within a few inches, he lays his ears down flat and twitches his tail, letting out the faintest hiss.
“Rude,” I mutter under my breath and resume my duties.
I shuffle around some of the new skulls with butterflies in glass display cloches, trying out different arrangements and groupings until I find something pleasing that also leaves a spot for the undeserving odd cat.
I head out front to view my new arrangement in the window to ensure the display is just as great from the street. I try not to eye up the neighboring building’s construction, which appears to be winding up, but can’t help myself.
The updates are modern, yet blend seamlessly. Whoever the designer was really had an eye for this type of work. I admire the new windows and front door. They have combined the two buildings into one much larger building.
The builders also left the brick the original red and repointed the mortar. The trim is black like mine, and the copper downspouts and roof accents would weather elegantly to match the green of my building next door. I wonder if that detail was intentional, to link the two buildings together stylistically in addition to their shared wall. Copper is an expensive detail.
I automatically think about the owner from next door and our link. I can sense him in the clean modern lines of the building, updates that hold true to its original character. It fits him, with his stunning beauty and James Dean trappings, his tattoos a modern touch to a classic foundation.
I don’t doubt, just like the buildings before me, he and I have a deep connection. I know in my very marrow it is there. But where is he? And why is he gone? I sigh and head back in to close up the shop.
It was a busy day, and I’ve still got to drive to Philly tonight so I can spend the weekend at the Oddities Expo. My emergency backup worker, Anna, who also is one of my favorite young ladies from the vegan gluten-free restaurant, is going to cover Saturday and Sunday for me.
I’m thankful for her help. I simply can’t financially afford to close the store on the weekends, which are my highest sales days. She always leaves things better than she found them, so I’m always happy to return after she works.
I button up Grimm for the night and can’t stop myself from taking one more peek at the building next door. I notice one of the upper floor curtains twitch, and I wonder if it is a trick of my eyes or if McHottie is really up there and just hiding out from me.
With that uplifting thought, I head back to my place to pack a quick bag so I can head to Philly. At this time of day, I should make it in less than two hours. I grab my giant Tardis bag, throw in a change of clothes, a few snacks, and a Grimm logo reusable water bottle. I love merch.
I put on my high-top Converse, since I’ll wear them to the expo and don’t feel like packing a bunch of shoes for such a short trip. Swinging through the bathroom, I snag my makeup, hair tools, and travel toiletries, tossing those in the bag as well.
I run through my mental checklist and realize I’ll need a smaller purse for the actual convention, so I grab my new little belt bag and add my wallet. I think I got everything—time to get going.
Bag on shoulder, phone in hand, I lock the front door behind me and head down to my vintage bug. I toss my things across to the passenger seat and give one last glance up at the back side of my building.
Again, I swear my neighbor’s upstairs blinds twitch. I throw a stink face toward the window and fire off a double bird salute, in case he is looking down at me, then pull up directions on my phone.
Just for fun, I change the voice on the app to the zombie survivalist option and bring up my playlist. I’m looking forward to the mostly simple drive for some uninterrupted thinking time, though I dread driving in the actual city. I fire up the car and off I go.
As I head north, I realize that uninterrupted thinking time isn’t as wonderful as I thought it would be. My brain just circles around McHottie like a whirlpool til I’m tangled up and dizzy in my own thoughts.
I just can’t fathom what scared him off. I’m glad to be away this weekend and am hopeful when I get home, he will come back around so we can figure out whatever is going on.
A mental break will be good for me. I worry I’m becoming obsessed, when in reality, it’s only been a few days. His silence makes me doubt the deep feelings I had when we were together and the connection I was certain we had forged. Maybe I should brace myself for another notch of disappointment on life’s bedpost.
* * *
After a relatively quickand easy drive, I pull up to my hotel, thankful for the light traffic. I found this place a few years ago, and it is my go-to place to stay in Philly. The boutique hotel is a tucked away gem near the cobblestone streets surrounding Old City.
There are some great little restaurants nearby, including a fabulous taco place with a fun Mexican wrestler theme. I think I’ll grab some tacos and margaritas there tonight. The margaritas will help to beat the summer heat that is in full force today and should also help to clear out some of my swirling thoughts.
I pull the bug up to the valet—another perk of this little hotel in the city—and grab my giant bag from my passenger seat. Passing my keys to the attendant, I head in.
I smile and thank the door man and take a deep breath as I enter the lobby. The hotel’s signature scent is incredible. I inhale calming white tea and sandalwood with a faint citrus note.
I breeze through check-in and head up to the fifth floor. It’s a smaller hotel, nestled in this old section of town with fun little quirks, like twisting hallways and lofty ceilings. I hop off the elevator after a quick ride up and go down the narrow hallway, making right angle turns to my room.
I walk in and admire the fifteen-foot ceiling. The quiet stillness particular to hotel rooms surrounds me. Faint traffic sounds from the streets below and the hum of the air conditioning form their own white noise. The signature scent of the hotel is more subtle here, but pleasantly present.
I stand there for a minute, quietly absorbing the calm. Taking a relaxing minute, I do some box breathing so I’m in practice in case I need to use it during a time of stress. I love this hotel and the feeling of being in a peaceful bubble it brings me.
Relaxed now, I flop down on the bed with my feet hanging off the edge. The mattress is soft, and the fluffy duvet beckons me to sink into oblivion. My eyes feel heavy, and it would be so easy just to drift off to sleep.
