Tandem Trouble
Griff
Maisie was gone for the afternoon – something about a meeting with her bank.
The shop, however, was open. Apparently, this put me in charge.
It wasn't a big deal. Hell, I sort of liked it – the fact that Maisie trusted me with her shop. But I'd be lying if I didn't admit that the place wasn't half so interesting without her in it.
Yesterday, I'd almost kissed her.
And the way it looked, she'd wanted to be kissed.
I'd call it a win-win, except it wasn't, not with me heading for the proverbial door. Whether I stayed only a month or stuck it out through the end of the season, it would still be a shitty thing to do – to chase a summer fling when Maisie deserved better.
So that wasn't gonna happen.
End of story.
But it didn't feel like the end. It felt like the beginning, because no matter what I was doing, she was still in my head whether I wanted her there or not.
And today, the weather wasn't helping.
The rain from yesterday had stuck around, and business had remained brutally slow. I'd seen no sign of Devon or Sierra, but that didn't mean I wasn't keeping an eye out.
Since Maisie's lunchtime departure, I'd been dealing with only the hardiest of tourists – those who thought a little rain made for a great adventure and didn't mind getting soaked to prove it.
I could relate. They were my kind of people.
Even so, it made for a boring afternoon – until they showed up.
Not Devon and Sierra.
It was worse.
It was the two guys I'd spotted casing the shop on my very first day. I hadn't liked them then. And I liked them even less now.
One was tall and wiry with a prominent nose and jutting chin. He was dressed all in black, including a black windbreaker with the hood pulled tight around his face.
The other guy was blocky and thick, wearing a tan trench coat and dark sunglasses in spite of the rain-soaked sky. In the ridiculous getup, he looked like a gumshoe in an old black-and-white movie – the kind where men wore fedoras and women were called dames.
Today, the two guys were doing the same sort of things that had caught my attention the first time I'd spotted them, back when Mister Gumshoe had been dressed like a regular dude.
By now, they had already passed the shop at least a dozen times, sneaking obvious looks through the front window – not browsing, but casing the place for whatever.
From my spot behind the front counter, I stared through the glass, not bothering to hide it. When they caught me looking, they stopped and looked back with open hostility, as if waiting for me to look away.
I didn't.
I wasn't planning to either.
Apparently, they took this as an invitation, because after more staring and some words back and forth, the taller of the two yanked open the front door and entered the shop with Gumshoe on his heels.
They swaggered up to the front counter like they were here to settle a debt. The tall guy asked, "You work here?"
Dumbass. "What do you think?"
His eyes narrowed. "I think you do."
I gave him a quick once-over. "Funny, you don't look like a thinker."
His jaw flexed. "What does that mean?"
"If you've gotta ask…" I didn't bother finishing. Instead, I gave a loose shrug that he could take however he liked.
Yeah, I was tweaking him. These guys weren't customers, and I wanted to see what they'd do. It wasn't for fun. It wasn't only for info either. Call it insurance. If either of them had a short fuse, I'd rather they go boom on me than on Maisie.
Gumshoe leaned in, his voice low and gravelly. "You new?"
"I dunno," I said. "Are you?"
He frowned. "What?"
I leaned an elbow on the counter. "Define new."
His frown deepened. "No, you define it."
The tall guy snapped, "Cut the crap."
Gumshoe turned to look. "You mean him, right?"
I spoke up. "Nah, my money's on you."
Gumshoe returned his attention to me. When I smiled, his lip curled like he'd tasted something sour. "Keep running your mouth, pretty boy. See where it gets you."
Seriously? If this was a movie, I'd ask for a rewrite. The guy was a walking, talking cliché. I almost laughed in his face. "Hey, thanks."
He paused. "For what?"
"You called me pretty."
He shifted, like his shoes weren't fitting so great. "Yeah, but it wasn't a compliment."
I smirked. "Too late to take it back now."
His wet sunglasses were starting to fog over, but he made no move to wipe them. "Hey! I'll take back whatever I want."
"You mean when ever you want."
"Huh?"
"It's a matter of timing," I explained. " I said it was too late. You were trying to say it wasn't. That makes it a when , not a where ."
Gumshoe bristled, like he wanted to say something smart. I waited, betting he'd trip over his own mouth. Finally, he muttered, "It still wasn't a compliment."
No shit. I straightened, ready to get down to business. "So what's the plan?"
Gumshoe scrunched up his face. "What plan?"
"You're here to what? Rent a tandem?"
"What's a tandem?"
If the first guy was dumb, this guy was dumber. I replied, "A bike for two."
"Why would we want that?"
"So you can ride off together . Easier to keep track."
"Of what?"
I let it hang for a beat. "Of each other. You seem the type to get lost."
The taller guy leaned over the counter, invading my space. "Maybe you need to get lost."
I didn't pull back. "Maybe. But I'm not gonna." Even as I said it, I felt the weight of the lie.
I wouldn't be here forever. Staying wasn't part of the plan. And yet, the thought of leaving – whether now or later on – wasn't sounding so terrific.
I could blame Dumb and Dumber. Or I could blame Maisie. Either way, leaving at all was sounding worse by the minute.
Probably I should blame myself, because somehow, this had become personal. I wasn't just guarding the shop. I was guarding her.
The taller guy smiled like he knew something I didn't. "We'll see about that." And with that brilliant exit line, he turned to leave.
Gumshoe lingered at the counter to ask, "You want some advice?"
Now, I did laugh. "From you?"
"No joke," he said. "You should move along before it gets ugly."
I wasn't worried – not for myself. Both of them screamed amateur hour, like small-time wannabees acting tough for fun. Or profit.
But Gumshoe was right about one thing. This wasn't a joke, not when it came to Maisie.
I wasn't done pushing. If somebody had to take the heat, it might as well be me. I gave Gumshoe a long, assessing look. "Ugly like your sunglasses? Or that ridiculous coat?"
His body stilled, but his mouth kept working like he wanted to say something smart. In the end, he muttered, "Oh, fuck off" and turned to follow his friend. With a jingle of the door, they were soon gone, leaving me staring after them.
Outside, the rain kept falling, steady and cold, like a clock ticking down. I'd been working here for barely a week. This was the first time I'd been left on my own – and the first time they'd come in.
It couldn't be a coincidence.
But it was something .
I didn't know what.
But if they wanted trouble, they'd need to go through me first.