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She’s got a fucking point. I’d give her that.
“No. I very much don’t want to do, or be, that.”
“Then come and hide,” she commands. “Follow me.”
“Really, though?” I ask. “Under there?”
The girl merely stares at me blankly.
“Yep. This is your last chance, movie star. You coming or what?”
I take a moment.
I have one last question...
“Are you about to murder me?” I ask her.
4
VICTOR
“What’s your name?” I ask my savior once we pass through the little hole into some kind of secondary alleyway beyond the first alleyway.
Look, I’m an arrogant guy with a highly bloated sense of self-importance, but I’m not so arrogant as to admit that I am a bit confused by this layout here. I’m guessing this must be the space behind the main building of The Oak.
Well, whatever it is we have entered, it is expertly hidden from the public and from any crowd hanging around the outside of the coffee shop, and that’s all that matters to me right the fuck now.
I’m deducing only the staff of The Oak would have an inkling as to this little hideout. There’s a trashcan full of crap and a dozen cigarette butts scattered across the ground. An empty to-go coffee cup lies against the cracked pavement. It’s damn clear no one gives a shit for this space. It’s a fucking mess.
Behind us, there is the noise of the mob loudly searching around for my sorry ass on the sidewalk, but they clearly haven’t discovered my whereabouts just yet. A few voices pass by the little hole we’ve escaped through, but there’s nothing to indicate that anyone caught sight of us sneaking into the back of here.
Alright, so this girl did a good job. Kudos to her.
“Safe for now,” I mutter to myself.
“I’m Josie Gunn,” The Oak employee finally admits to me, glaring at me from across the alleyway with big brown eyes in a way I can’t fully discern yet.
I flash her one of my reliable charming smiles that’s sure to knock her socks off.
“Victor Penmayne. Nice to meet you.”
“Yeah, I know who you are,” she replies.
Okay...
So, she’s a curt one.
She has no time for games, it seems.
“Yeah, I suppose you would know who I am,” I reply. “Everyone does.”
“Hm. Yeah. Sure.”
She blinks at me. I can tell she’s taking me in – this man she’s only ever seen on the silver screen. This incredibly handsome man, if I may be so bold. I’m supposing a super famous face like mine doesn’t appear outside her place of work any day of the week, and so now she needs a moment to process my presence.
Well, I’m more than happy to oblige.
“Thank you for, uh... rescuing me there,” I say, glaring right back at the girl. Her brown eyes continue to peer back at me.
