4. The Apothecary
Courtney
The apothecary shop is easy enough to spot, a giant sign hangs above the structure reading, HERBAL HEALTH HEALING.
This shop is situated in a much more humble building than the historic center. The structure consists of only one medium-sized room lined floor to ceiling with shelves so densely packed with yellowing jars that sunlight has to fight to make its way into the cramped space. The apothecary has a distinct smell of dust and aging wood, but it only adds to the shop’s classic charm. I keep myself busy by reading the jars’ labels while waiting for this Micah person to appear.
“Hey gorgeous, you lost?” A deep voice calls from the back of the store.
I peek my head around a cluttered set of shelves and spot a particularly muscular cashier standing at the register, a suave smolder on his face.
“Hi, I didn’t see you there. You must be Micah, Milo’s friend?” I greet him, tucking a brown strand behind my ear to distract from the faint blush unfurling on my cheeks. I take a few steps closer to the man, each wooden floorboard letting out a noticeable groan of protest as I move, hinting at how old this place is.
“I’m Micah, everyone’s friend,” His amber eyes indiscreetly slide down my torso, lingering momentarily on my chest and then back up to my eyes. I clear my throat, pretending I don’t notice the liberties he is taking while looking at me.
“Including yours. You must be Courtney?”
I raise an eyebrow, noticing once again that I’ve let myself wander into a tight space with a man I do not know. What’s worse, this man mysteriously knows my name.
“How did you know my name?”
His tan skin runs pale as his facial expression morphs into wide eyes and slightly puckered lips as if he sucked on a particularly sour candy. Also known as the, “Oh Shit I Said Something I Shouldn’t Have” face. His expression smooths out, allowing his unnecessarily attractive smolder to return.
“Lucky guess. I heard we were getting a new resident, and there’s not a lot of new faces around here, especially ones as pretty as yours.” He shoots me a flirtatious wink, and my blush is back in full force. No boys, Courtney.
“Milo said I should check this place out, he said I wouldn’t regret it.” I wince as the words leave my mouth, suddenly understanding Milo’s meaning. The historian hadn’t been referring to the antique medicines decorating the shelves or the natural remedial herbs for sale, he meant the sexy cashier in a tight-fitting shirt. I silently curse Milo for setting me up like this, he knows I just had a bad breakup, so why put this good-looking, frisky man in front of me?!
“Oh yeah?” Micah swipes his tongue over his bottom lip, lowering his eyes to the floor as his ego is boosted.
“I bet I know why he sent you here. Wait right here.” Micah palms the counter before disappearing behind an old curtain that covers a hallway to the back portion of the shop. As he pulls the curtain aside, I can see that the back half of the building is set up as a functional little apartment. I assume that must be where Micah and his mother live. He reemerges seconds later with a small plastic bag.
“Heard you’re from California, here’s a little present so you don’t get homesick.” He reaches for my hand, holding it open in his own as he places the baggie into my palm. He’s so close I can feel the heat radiating off of his broad body, his warmth doing something to me it really shouldn’t be. Suddenly, my plan of hunting down a sex shop and buying a vibrator is at the top of my to-do list.
I take an unwilling step back and clear my throat again before examining the contents of the clear bag. Inside the tiny bag sits a hefty green bud of marijuana. I laugh at the sight of it, its mossy exterior appearance and deep color telling me it came from a well-grown plant.
“That’s a really nice gift, thank you.” I chuckle, depositing the bud into my pocket. I have no intentions of smoking drugs a stranger gifted me, but I appreciate the gesture nonetheless. I motion to the wall nearest to me.
“This is a cool place.”
“Thanks,” Micah flashes me a white-toothed smile, folding his muscular across his wide chest.
“It’s been passed down through the family for years. Mom owns it now, one day it’ll be mine. And while I won’t offer you Tulsi basil, lavender, and turmeric for your broken leg, we still stock some of those Mayflowerian herbs and remedies, now just for fun.”
I smile, looking around the shelves with a new perspective.
“Do you have anything to keep men away?” I joke under my breath. Micah chuckles in response.
“I’m afraid no remedy I could sell would help you with that.” He leans against the frame of the hallway, the action highlighting his swollen biceps. I almost bust out laughing at how utterly smooth that line was, almost as if he’d rehearsed it. Before that could happen, I decide to excuse myself, acknowledging the fact I’m too horny to be around someone as muscle-y as Micah right now.
“I’ll see you around, Micah. Thanks for the herbal lesson.”
He waves goodbye to me with a smile that tells me he’s eager to see me again. However, that smile doesn’t tell me how he knew my name and that I was from California.
“A group of us are going apple picking tomorrow at the orchards. You should come! We’re meeting here at 8 a.m.!” he offers as a last-minute thought.
“I’ll think about it,” I respond over my shoulder, feigning disinterest. Apple picking honestly sounds really fun, an activity that isn’t common inside the concrete jungles of Los Angeles. Besides, a niggling feeling inside of me is warning me not to ignore it. I need an answer from Micah on how he knew all these things about me, and tomorrow’s activities seem like the perfect opportunity.
I make my way back onto the cobblestone street I was coming to adore, my head swimming with all the interactions today. Milo the Historian, Micah the Flirt, Elsie the Barista—I’m curious to see who is next.
I retrace my steps and easily find my way back to my rental. As I walk up my porch steps, I notice a car in Agnes’ driveway that I didn’t remember being there when I left earlier. As I examine the vehicle, a subtle movement from her upstairs window catches my eye, and I quickly flick my attention in its direction. Just as I register a pair of blue eyes watching me, the curtain is quickly dropped back into place, and the window is once again still. I shutter as I quickly jam my key into my house’s lock and hurry inside.
More than once today I’ve had the feeling that Havenwood knows a lot more about me than I know of it. Tomorrow, that changes.