Chapter 10 #2
The next hour passes in a blur of instruction, and by five-fifteen, I’m alone at the counter, organizing a stack of new releases.
The bell above the door jingles, and I look up, my customer service smile freezing when I see who’s walking in.
Chase.
I duck behind the counter like the lead in a really bad sitcom, my heart racing. Is he following me? How would he even know I work here?
Then my rational side smacks me in the face. He’s not following you, dummy. He’s a customer. And why the hell are you hiding, anyway?
Honestly, I didn’t know if it was because I was attracted to him and feared it wasn’t mutual after all, or if I was too weirded out by the fact that he had a starring role in my dreams. Either way, hiding had seemed the best option. Best being a relative term.
After a few moments, I peek over the counter, and when he disappears into the occult section, my curiosity wins. I slip out to follow him, positioning myself one aisle over and looking through a gap between books so I can play spy without being seen.
As I watch, he runs his fingers along the spines, stopping at a thick volume bound in faded red leather. I can’t see the title, but it’s clearly what he came for, as he’s flipping the pages with focused intensity.
“Checking inventory?”
I nearly jump out of my skin. Mr. Griffin has materialized beside me, his voice pitched low.
“I—I was just—familiarizing myself with the stock.”
“Mm-hmm. Why don’t you go help our customer instead of watching him?”
Busted. I straighten my shoulders and step around the bookshelf, approaching Chase with a professionalism I don’t feel.
“Can I help you find something?”
He looks up, then flashes a smile that seems to radiate pleasure. “Cora,” he says. “Griff told me you were coming to work here.”
“Oh. Why?”
Chase lifts a shoulder in a casual shrug. “I guess he thought that was something I’d find interesting.” A warm sizzle races through me as he meets my eyes. “The guy knows me well.”
This, I know, is flirting. But since I suck at flirting, my response is an extremely lame smile and an even lamer, “Oh.”
He grins but says nothing else. Since I’m starting to think that we both suck at the whole social thing, I lift a hand to indicate the shelves. “Um, so, do you need help finding anything?”
The corner of his mouth twitches. “You’ve worked here less than a day. I’ve been popping in almost daily for years. Do you want me to give you the tour? Or pretend to be a confused customer so you can help me out?”
Honestly, I should probably say yes. Instead, I shake my head. “That’s okay. There’s a cart of books I need to start shelving. But I appreciate the offer for on-the-job training.”
His grin lights his eyes in an adorable way that has my whole body tingling.
“Right,” I say. “Well, I’ll let you get to it.” And then, before I can somehow sound even more tongue-tied and geeky, I zip off to the break room and the stack of invoices and purchase orders that tops my list of things to organize.
Mr. Griffin is at the worktable when I enter, and there’s a definite twinkle in his eye when he looks up. “You know our Mr. Chasen?”
“Only a little,” I say.
Mr. Griffin nods, as if that makes perfect sense. “He’s a hard nut to crack. That kind holds a heavy burden.”
I frown, something in his tone making my stomach twist, like I’ve brushed too close to something dangerous.
“What kind of burden?”
His expression flickers. And even though the question was nosy as hell, and I should just tell him never mind, I say nothing at all.
After a moment, Mr. Griffin goes to a filing cabinet, pulls out a file, then hands it to me. “The store operates as a lending library for a few select customers. Folks I trust.”
“Chase,” I say, noting the name on the folder. I flip it open, then skim through the list of titles he’s borrowed. Lots of books that focus on things like warding and protection spells and defense against the unseen.
“You think someone’s after him?”
“Or someone he cares about. Mostly, I think he’s fighting battles you don’t understand.”
I frown. “So, you really believe in that stuff? Magic, monsters, and potions that can hold the boogey-man at bay?”
He tilts his head as he holds my gaze. “How long has the universe existed?”
I frown, thrown by the question. “Well, forever, I guess.”
“Exactly. And forever is a long, long time. Plenty of time for barriers to break down. For those monsters and boogey-men you speak of to find ways to slide into this realm.”
“Realm,” I repeat softly, the word feeling familiar on my tongue.
He continues as if I hadn’t interrupted. “What better place to cross over than a town as ancient as St. Augustine? A place where the veil is already thin?”
Now, a chill races down my spine because this time I recognize his words. I saw them once in my mother’s journal. Words that convey the same feeling I’d had during the campus tour.
Thin. Veil.
“My mother used to say that dreams are just our minds processing the day,” I lie, testing his reaction. “But sometimes I wonder if they’re something more.”
Mr. Griffin studies me, his gaze sharp. “Finn mentioned you have an interest in sleep disorders.”
I stiffen. “Did he also mention why?”
“He didn’t have to.” His voice softens. “I knew your mother.”
“Oh.” The word comes out like a whisper, and I hug myself, feeling like a little girl again.
“Her death was a terrible thing.”
I swallow hard, tears pricking my eyes. “Yes.” I can barely get the word out.
He starts to reach for me, then pulls his hand back. For a moment, we both stand there awkwardly. Then his shoulders sag a bit, and he says, “Better get back on the floor. Might be a customer who needs something.”
I do as he says, surprised to find that Chase is now camped out at one of the little tables by the coffee counter, an almost empty cup of black coffee beside him, and what’s clearly a rare book open in front of him.
“A little light reading?” I ask, glancing down at the almost indecipherable calligraphy that covers the pages.
“It’s either this or do crossword puzzles. And I just don’t know enough about sports teams.”
“Yet another thing we have in common,” I say, then point toward his cup. “Want another? I can give it to you on the house and then tell Mr. Griffin I was confused, what with it being my first day and all.”
His head tilts. “Why, Ms. Lyte, are you flirting with me?”
“No,” I say, scowling as I take a step back. “Just, you know, abusing my position of semi-authority at my new job.”
“Oh,” he says, his eyes raking over me in a way that makes me go all tingly. “Too bad for me.”
My cheeks burn, and I mumble something incoherent about shelving in the true crime section, then scurry away.
When I’m sure he hasn’t followed me, I slip off toward the back room, taking care to stay hidden by the stacks until I’m safely locked away.
Then I slide into a chair, close my eyes, and just breathe.
I’ve never had a boyfriend. And other than Chase himself, I’ve never even had a crush. And since the boarding school Uncle Finn shoved me into was all girls—another reason that dick move on Uncle Finn’s part incurred my wrath—I haven’t had a lot of practice talking to guys.
This guy, though…
Well, Chase, I genuinely like. As a friend and—maybe—as something more.
At the same time, though, I can’t help but wonder—is it Cora the freshman he’s interested in? Or is he somehow truly the guy in my dreams?