Chapter 2
Fredrik
Before that Friday night, the craziest thing I’d seen at The Shore Thing was my friend Jackson tipping with a fifty-dollar bill. And he was a trust fund kid who occasionally got far too drunk, so it wasn’t that out of the ordinary.
That was until I saw a woman approaching a cactus with a makeup brush.
Moments earlier, she’d dropped to the sticky floor to do some sort of push-ups.
It was hard to tell since she was wearing a fluffy, peach-colored overcoat that made her look like a baby chick.
I was good at minding my own business, but when she took out a toiletry bag to attend to a cactus, even I couldn’t look away.
It wasn’t my intention to gawk at anyone or, God forbid, catch their attention.
I despised chitchat and avoided it at all costs.
According to my sister, that defeated the purpose of going to a bar, but I liked the soundscape—talk and laughter blending with music.
Upbeat, meaningless noise that drowned out my darker thoughts.
Except now my meditative Friday night buzz had been replaced by jittery nerves. The strange woman at the nearby table had noticed me watching her, and she had questions. I could feel them in the air as she regarded me with open curiosity.
I kept my gaze on the book, but she shuffled closer, flashing a sunny smile. “Hey! Can I ask you something?”
I reluctantly lifted my eyes off the page. “What?”
“What’s the deal with the internet?” She raised her phone, turning it in her hand.
I lowered the book by an inch. “Bad signal.”
“Is it a satellite connection?”
“No. There’s a tower, but…” I sighed and lowered the book in defeat. “It’s not close enough, and we get some odd weather events, like temperature inversion. And if anyone tells you anything else, don’t believe them.”
Her eyebrows traveled up. “Like what?”
I cast a weary look at the ceiling. “Evil spirits. Government experiments. None of it’s true. The government doesn’t give a rat’s ass about us. There’s no conspiracy. Only gradual decay and entropy. And eventually, death.”
She nodded solemnly, her eyes exaggeratedly wide. “I can tell you’re fun.”
Better that she found out right away. And left.
Except she wasn’t leaving. Instead, she leaned forward.
“What do you do when you need to call someone?”
“Use the landline. Or go up Cellular Hill.” I picked up the book again, signaling the end of the conversation.
She let out a bubbly laugh like I’d cracked an exceptional joke. “Cellular—”
“Yeah, hilarious.” I angled myself away from her and resumed my reading.
“I didn’t mean to make fun of… anything. It’s an odd name, that’s all.”
Clearly, she wasn’t going to leave me alone. I lowered the book again.
“The official name is Seller Hill. It used to be where the market was held, before they built the town square in 1862.”
She stared at me in awe. “Wow. You must be amazing at trivia nights.”
I pushed out a flashback from my old life.
“Trivia is useless,” I muttered, flipping a page I couldn’t focus on.
She scooted to the edge of her seat, her knees nearly touching my satchel. I used it as a barricade, making sure not even the densest idiot thought the seat beside me was vacant.
I heard the smile in her voice. “So… are you like a history buff or…?”
“Do you mind?” I nodded at the book.
“Ah, sorry.” She finally retreated to her table just as the bartender, Summer, arrived with her food.
“Thank you so much!” she beamed.
Summer threw me a reproachful glance. “I apologize for whatever Fredrik said.”
“Oh no!” The woman waved her hand. “He was very helpful—”
“No, he wasn’t.” Summer glared at me. “He was an ass, and he’s sorry. This is not how we treat visitors in this town.”
I harrumphed behind my book.
“Where are you staying?” Summer asked, ignoring me.
“I’m here to run a pop-up shop on the town square. I haven’t even seen it yet. I was too hungry. But I hope it’s nice. There’s an apartment at the back I can stay in, so it’s a great deal.”
Summer brightened. “A shop? Really? What do you sell?”
“Christmas decorations, apparently.”
“Wow. Didn’t know we needed any more of those.” Summer laughed, glancing at the pine garlands hanging from the ceiling. “But that’s great that you got yourself a job.”
The woman nodded enthusiastically. “I’m so grateful I don’t even care what I’m selling. I got off a cruise ship this morning, and it’s so amazing to be on dry land for more than two hours and, you know, out at night.”
She sounded so perky. Full of excitement. Where the hell did they breed her kind? I’d long ago stopped pretending to read and was now shamelessly listening in. She knew it, too, raising her voice just enough for my benefit.
Summer threw me a dirty look and aimed her honeyed voice at the newcomer. “Sounds like a special occasion.”
“You have no idea. Excuse me, I’m starving.” She took a bite of the sandwich, smiling apologetically.
Summer laughed. “I’ll let you eat. But you must tell me all about the shop later. I’m Summer.”
“Noelle,” she said after chewing and swallowing her food.
Summer gave her a thumbs-up and headed back to the bar, weaving between the tables.
Noelle. Her name was Noelle, and she was here to sell Christmas decorations. More than a little on the nose, I thought, shaking my head. But I memorized it anyway. I might bump into her again.
I wondered where her shop was located on the town square. I knew the place like the back of my hand. A couple of empty shops remained—one next door to mine—but that space was too big for something so frivolous. It didn’t make sense.
As she ate, I enjoyed the silence. She wasn’t a talk-with-her-mouth-full type, thank God, even if she kept glancing my way between bites. No doubt she was gearing up for another question with that head tilt and those giant anime eyes, expecting me to dazzle and entertain her.
She was barking up the wrong tree. I was as dazzling and entertaining as that cactus she’d been putting makeup on.
My shoulders dropped with a heavy exhale as I took a sip of my beer.
It had turned warm and flat an hour ago.
Mostly, I used it as a prop. Summer knew better than to push alcohol on me.
I was a cheap, lousy drunk, once voted “Most likely to fall asleep in public.” I didn’t care either way.
I’d long since stopped feeling embarrassed over things I couldn’t control.
I didn’t deal in secondhand embarrassment, either, so watching this woman in a baby chick coat exercise and brush a cactus didn’t bother me. Her incessant questions did.
“What are you reading?”
I lowered the book, giving her a tired look. “How to Keep People at Bay. It’s self-help.”
“Self-help?” Her lips twitched like she wasn’t buying my bullshit. “Can I see?”
She reached for the book, but I slipped it into my bag, committing to said bullshit. “It’s annotated. Very personal stuff. I can’t risk showing it to a stranger.”
Why was I encouraging her?
She was smiling now. A pretty smile that made her brown eyes glint. “You shouldn’t write anything that sensitive in the margins. What if someone comes to visit and starts browsing through your book?”
“Well, then, the writer has failed to help me keep people at bay. She’ll get a scathing review.” I gave her a stern look, which did nothing to discourage this muppet.
“Who’s the author? I’ll look it up.” She batted her eyelashes like a cartoon character, leaning in to peek into my bag.
I closed the flap in her face, and she giggled.
“Come on! If it’s about keeping bad people away, I need that book.” Her laughter fizzled, and something dark crossed behind her eyes. She hid it well, keeping that smile on her lips. But I’d already seen it.
“Do you have trouble keeping bad people away?” I asked despite myself.
As much as I wanted to return to my peace and background noise, I couldn’t ignore the red flag.
Noelle jerked back a little. Her gaze flicked to the door before she smiled again. “No trouble. I just keep moving.”
“You keep moving?” I told myself to drop it, but my mouth didn’t listen. “Is someone after you?”
Her head twitched like she was about to look at the door again. “Nobody knows I’m here, and there’s no cell signal, so I’m good.” She grinned, but I saw through it. She was running from something. Or someone.
As much as I wanted to dismiss her and the rest of the world, I couldn’t shake the unease. If there was any chance that she was in danger, if she kept bothering me because it made her feel safer to have a man nearby, I couldn’t ignore it.
I waited for her to elaborate, but she bounced up, pulled on the fluffy coat, and hoisted a huge backpack onto her shoulders. “Well, it was nice to meet you,” she chirped, heading for the door.
What was I supposed to do?
Cursing, I gathered my things, threw money on the table, and followed her.