Page 2 of Styx’s Storm

Maybe this guy never had that.

I opened a conversation with him. Basics. Hi, what are you looking for? Shit like that.

A chill wind blew through downtown from the west, flapping the back of my jacket and blowing my hair in my eyes.

I could go back to Timmie’s. I could try to find shelter. On that note, I gazed upward. Clouds. Ominous ones. I’d long forgotten my study of clouds in grade school, but these looked like they might bring rain.

A reply flashed up on my screen.

—Meet me at The Grand Hotel. Ask for the key to room 303. Anytime after six. I’ll be waiting. —

My eyes widened. I hadn’t quite expected things to escalate so quickly. But hey, whatever. Hopefully this hotel booked by the night and the guy would let me stay. Otherwise, I’d heard of a twenty-four-hour diner somewhere nearby. That would work. At least for now. Chances were they wouldn’t let me hang out until Monday morning, though. The final option was a shelter—but I’d feel guilty taking a spot when I had some cash in my pocket. Not a lot—enough to get by, as long as I didn’t waste it on shit like hotel rooms.

After pulling up directions on my phone, I discovered The Grand Hotel was just three blocks west of where I was. He was very specific about the time. I don’t think he’d appreciate me hanging out in the lobby. Which meant killing time.

I eyed the clouds. Waiting indoors might be a good idea.

Directly behind me was a bookstore. The Owl’s Nest.

I honestly hadn’t stepped inside one for years, but surely they’d let me browse. I opened the door and let the book smell hit me.

To find myself almost tripping over a black-and-white cat. “Well hello, there.”

The cat gazed up at me with unblinking eyes.

“Ari.” A man hustled over to scoop up the cat. He stood, cradling the furry chunk in his arms. “I apologize. She usually waits until our guest is safely inside the store before approaching them. Silly girl.” He said those last two words in an exaggerated voice.

Darn cat purred so loudly I could hear it.

“I’ll just put her on her perch.” He did so, and the cat settled, staring out the window onto Mission City’s downtown. Then he pivoted back to me. “I’m Dickens, and this is my store. How can I help you?”

I squinted. “I’m just, uh, browsing.”

“Certainly,” he grinned. His blue eyes sort of sparkled, and the light bounced off his blond hair. “I’m always happy to help. Is there a particular book? Section? Or just going where your whim takes you.?”

“Uh. All of the above?” The guy was super cute. A bit older than me—but not much.

“Sure. There’s a cluster of comfortable chairs. Feel free to put your bag down there while you browse. I close at seven.”

“Oh, I won’t be staying that long. I, uh, have to be at The Grand Hotel at six.”

“Perfect.” He eyed the eyed the street where a lash of rain darkened the pavement. “That’s rain. The meteorologists have been predicting that we’d get a good storm. Glad you came inside when you did.” Another huge grin.

Does he know? That I’m stranded and have nowhere else to go? Is he going to kick me out, or can I really stay for a few hours? “Do you have a book about British Columbia? Or maybe Mission City?”

“I sort of pegged you as an out-of-towner.” His gaze appeared to take me in, as if he were taking my measure. “I have some great books I think you’ll enjoy. Can I get you a coffee? Tea? Water?” He eyed the rain coming down. “How about a hot chocolate? Perfect on a day like this.”

My heart sank. If he were serving a drink, then he’d expect me to buy something.

He cocked his head. “No obligation, okay? I do plenty of business. Do you need to charge your phone or something?”

“I’m not homeless.”

“I didn’t mean to imply that you were. You said you were headed to the hotel, eventually.” He held up his hands. “Frankly, I enjoy company. Ari’s great, but she’s a little short on conversation. My husband’s next door in his motorcycle-repair shop. Fridays are hit or miss in November. Not quite Christmas yet. Although getting close.” He shrugged. “Shelter from the storm is something I can offer. Now…hot chocolate?”

For the first time since I realized Baxter had abandoned me, I managed a smile. “That would be lovely.”

“Perfect. Have a seat, and I’ll bring you a couple of local books. Oh, how could I forget? Miss Edna is in one of the other chairs. She’s listening to an audiobook. The bus to take her back to her seniors’ home will be here shortly.”