Chapter 2 #2
But then he shook his head and smiled. “No, it’s nothing. I just thought for a moment you were someone I used to know.”
You’re a terrible liar, Max didn’t say, but he didn’t really care. As long as Kieran wasn’t going to hold him up with small talk trying to find out whether they’d known each other in a past life, that was the main thing.
Natasha pursed her lips. “Right. Well, if you’re done scrutinizing our guest, let’s show Max upstairs.”
Obviously she wasn’t buying Kieran’s excuse either, but she was willing to let it go for now. Grateful that that particular weirdness was out of the way, Max followed Natasha and Kieran to the staircase that was tucked away down the end of the corridor.
“We’ve only just opened these rooms to the public after doing some renovations,” Natasha said, as they made their way up the stairs. “This staircase is new, and it only leads to the two rooms on your floor, so it’s nice and private.”
Private is good, Max thought.
“It’s a nice staircase,” he said out loud, making an effort to keep the conversation flowing. There was a reason why he wrote for a living, rather than doing anything that involved talking.
Apparently this was the right thing to say, though – Kieran’s pride shone through in his voice. “Thanks! We designed and built it ourselves, with some help from our friend Calvin. He managed to source us some mahogany as well, so we were able to make it exactly how we wanted.”
“I don’t know if I’d do it again, though,” said Natasha with a light laugh. “Trying to fit a staircase into a space that didn’t already have one is a challenge I’m happy to only face once.”
“We had to close the B&B down for a couple of months while we did everything,” said Kieran. “We’d gotten so used to having people here that it was really strange to have the house empty again. It’s great to have more company now.”
Maybe Max’s reticence was showing on his face, because Natasha laughed again. “Don’t mind Kieran! He’s just a big old chatterbox. You must’ve had a long drive to get here, so we’ll get out of your hair as soon as we’ve shown you to your room.”
“No, it’s no trouble,” he murmured, even as he tried to psychically project his gratitude to her. He normally wasn’t quite this reserved, but he had been on the road since 7:00 a.m. All he wanted to do was crash out for a bit.
“Here we are!” Natasha said, and Max unlocked the door.
“This used to be the attic,” Natasha continued. “We were just using it for storage, but it felt like a shame to waste it. It’s actually a really lovely space.”
“And definitely not haunted,” Kieran added.
As one, Max and Natasha turned to look at him.
Kieran raised his hands defensively. “Well, it’s not!”
Natasha sighed with what sounded like good-natured exasperation. “Well, he’s got a point. I can categorically say it’s not haunted.”
“Good to know,” Max muttered, bemused.
“You probably already know from the website, but there’s a shared kitchen with the other apartment on this floor,” Natasha said, pointing at a door. “It’s through there, and you can lock the door from either side. There’s some food in there for you, too – anything marked ‘Max’ is yours.”
“Thanks,” said Max. “I appreciate it,” he added, feeling like he should be a little friendlier. They really were nice people, and they didn’t deserve to bear the brunt of his sleep-deprived grumpiness.
“If you need anything, just sing out,” said Natasha.
“Enjoy!” Kieran added cheerily, and he closed the front door behind Max – but not before Max caught a glimpse of his eyebrows pulling together in a return of his earlier confusion, or before he saw Natasha’s expression that clearly said You’re going to tell me what all that weirdness was about, mister.
Frankly, Max would’ve been happy if Kieran had clued him in, as well. He had no idea what it was about him that was apparently triggering Kieran’s suspicions. Unless Kieran had a secret sense for detecting undercover food critics, then there really wasn’t anything unusual about him.
Well, he supposed, there was the fact that his mom could turn into a lion whenever she felt like it. Or the fact that his father had bailed when Max was four, leaving him and his mom with plenty of money, but no explanations.
And then there was his ability to pass undetected in the world. To be, for want of a better word, forgettable.
He wasn’t quite sure how he did it, to be honest. It wasn’t like he looked forgettable – he was much taller than average, and his eyes were so dark as to be almost black, while his hair was a comparatively light brown. He knew that he stood out.
Yet, if he put his mind to it, he could pass through a crowd almost as if he wasn’t there.
People’s eyes slid right over him – or if they did make eye contact, they seemed to forget about him after a minute or two.
Not entirely, but enough to be vague about what he looked like, or to forget the specifics of the conversation.
It wasn’t a power that he liked to use, since he didn’t want to mess with people, but it had come in handy in small doses – mostly keeping out of trouble when he hadn’t wanted the teacher to call on him in high school, and now, making sure that people didn’t catch on to his identity when he was reviewing a restaurant.
Okay, he thought, wincing, there are plenty of unusual things about me. But none of those are things that some random B&B owner should be able to sense just from seeing me down the other end of a corridor. And I can’t turn into a lion – I’m just a regular guy.
The sudden reminder of the things he was always doing his best to forget soured his mood further, and he dumped his bag on the bedroom floor, barely taking in his surroundings.
He would’ve almost preferred to be in one of the dingy motels – at least he wouldn’t have felt like he was wasting his money by brooding about his family issues in such a nice place.
I suppose I’ll have to drive back into town to get something to eat, he thought glumly, the idea of going back out into the snow unappealing now that he was here in his cozy room. Although I guess I should see what’s in the kitchen.
It probably wouldn’t be enough for a full meal, but at least it would be something. He was just starting to realize that he was ravenous after the day of driving.
He pressed his ear to the kitchen door, trying to work out if there was anyone in there –
And, for the second time in the past twenty minutes he almost jumped out of his skin, this time due to a knock at the front door.
Taking a moment to get himself together, he opened the front door, only to see Natasha. Clearly she was adept at moving quietly.
“Sorry to bother you,” she said. “I just wanted to let you know that the guest in the other room has just had to cancel, so you’ll have the kitchen to yourself.”
Max perked up. Suddenly, the day was sounding a lot better.
“Feel free to eat any of the extra food,” Natasha went on. “It’ll just go stale anyway, and Sylvie, our baker, always gives us way more than we can get through on our own.”
Sylvie? Sylvie does the catering here?
Max mentally upgraded his day from ‘sounding better’ to ‘freaking fantastic’. If he could spend the evening lying around and eating Sylvie’s cakes while reading a good book and watching the snow fall outside the window… well, that sounded pretty good to him.
Thanking Natasha, he went into the kitchen to take a look around.
And… wow.
What Natasha had referred to as ‘some food’ was more like a feast, even without the food that had been intended for the other guests.
The fridge was crammed full of fresh produce, and a table practically groaned under the weight of more baked goods than a family of four could reasonably get through in a week, all of them in boxes stamped with the logo of Sylvie’s Sweets and Bakery.
Well, perhaps I’m exaggerating just a little, he thought, as he stared hungrily at the assortment of boxes. But only a little.
The only problem facing him now, really, was deciding where to start. Eventually, he just picked a box at random and opened it.
Girdwood Springs, he thought, as he gazed upon the bounty within, it’s good to be back.