Chapter 10 #2
My heart pounded like I was in the middle of a proper anxiety attack. Maybe I was. It had been a long time since my last one, but I recognized the signs. I sprinted for the door and got there at the same time, but there was nothing I could do.
My boss opened the door, and there they were—my belongings, scattered across the room.
There was the backpack, half open on the floor by the window, with an open toiletry bag next to it.
Two sweaters teetered on top of the boxes on the desk, and the towel I’d borrowed from Fredrik hung over the edge of the bed, next to a laundry bag full of used underwear.
A sheer laundry bag. That was where I’d stuffed my delicates, waiting for the next trip to the laundromat.
Mr. Young turned around to face me, looking alarmed. “You sleep here?”
I shook my head. “No! No. Of course not. You said it’s—”
“Not allowed! Building code is for retail use only. You will get us kicked out.”
Pearls of sweat gathered between my shoulder blades as my heart hammered on. “No, I understand. This is not what it looks like.” I cringed at the cliché line.
Before I could explain, I was saved by the bell—The shopkeeper’s bell that chimed above the front door.
“Excuse me,” I said, rushing to the door.
It was Fredrik, with no hat or gloves, a dusting of snow on his hair and shoulders. He seemed agitated, with a deep crease between his eyes. Had he come to ask for his key back?
I heard the footsteps of Mr. Young and lunged at my new friend. “My boss is here,” I whispered. “He saw my stuff at the back and—”
I swallowed the rest as Mr. Young reached us.
“I’m sorry. The store is not open yet. Come back tomorrow,” he informed Fredrik, showing him the door.
“I’m not here for decorations,” Fredrik replied, studying me with narrowed eyes.
I returned his gaze, trying to transmit a very specific distress signal.
“Fredrik is my… landlord,” I improvised with a smile that likely looked desperate.
“He’s here to help me move to my new place.
” I turned to Fredrik with pleading eyes.
“I’m sorry, I’m a little behind on packing.
I was just reorganizing my things in there, but I first wanted to finish unpacking the shop.
” I gestured at the stocked shelves around me, hoping they spoke for my work ethic.
Mr. Young nodded, looking a little more relaxed.
Fredrik took a beat, then nodded. “That’s okay. I’ll wait.” He made a show of checking his watch.
I cast him a grateful smile and ran to the back room, stuffing everything I owned into my bulging backpack in record time. When I emerged with my luggage, Fredrik leaped forward, taking it off my shoulders. “Great. Let’s go.”
Mr. Young stood at the door, blocking our way. “I will need your new address.” He peered at me with suspicion.
“It’s 55 Scenic Drive, Locke Heights,” Fredrik replied. “She’s renting a room from me. My name is Fredrik Hagberg.”
My boss took out his phone and typed, eyebrows drawn in concentration. “Is it close by?”
“It’s a couple of miles away, but she can get a ride with me. I own the bookstore next door.”
“Ah! Hard to Find? I saw it! Wasn’t that hard to find.” Mr. Young chuckled at his own joke.
Fredrik gave him a rueful smile. “I cater to collectors.”
“Very well. I’ll leave you to it.” My wannabe-comedian boss tipped his hat at us and opened the door. “I’ll be back tomorrow to show you the cash register and other things, then we officially open the doors. Make sure you price everything. It’s all in the book.”
I nodded in understanding. I’d found the thick catalog under the boxes. “I’ll do that first thing tomorrow. If you could come after lunch.”
He flashed me a playful smile. “Okay. I make it later, but…” He flared his fingers in a gesture of surprise.
“I won’t see you coming,” I finished for him, forcing on a smile. “Got it.”
He stepped outside, chuckling to himself.
As soon as the door chimed shut, Fredrik stepped forward, his voice low and demanding. “That nutjob is your boss?”
I sighed. “It seems so. Thanks for saving my ass.”
“You can’t sleep in that back room. I told you.”
“Where else? I just have to get better at hiding my stuff. I didn’t know he’d be making these surprise visits.”
Fredrik glanced at the window. “I hate to tell you this, but he’s still out there waiting.”
“What?” I sidled to the window.
Yep. My unhinged boss stood a few steps down the road, hobbling on one spot, probably to keep warm. Or maybe he needed to pee, like me.
“Fine. I’ll drag my stuff to your store and come back later. I need to use the bathroom anyway.” I reached for the backpack Fredrik had taken off me and stored at his feet.
He lifted it onto his shoulder instead. “We can’t go straight there. Not if he’s keeping watch.”
“For fuck’s sake!” I clamped my mouth, my cheeks burning. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. Let’s walk to my car.”
I turned off the lights, locked up, and followed him to a silver Mazda parked in front of his store.
We both pretended not to notice Mr. Young hiding behind a lamppost, his collar turned up like an old movie spy.
Fredrik shoved my backpack into the trunk of his car and opened the door for me.
I slid inside, noting the smell of peppermint.
My gaze landed on a bunch of candy canes hanging from his rearview mirror.
“Felicity,” he explained, starting the engine.
“Smells nice.” I watched through the back window as we drove away.
When Fredrik slowed down to turn away from the town square, I saw Mr. Young finally move toward his car.
“Just drive around the block,” I told Fredrik. “He’ll be gone by the time we’re back.”
He stared ahead, his mouth in a straight line. “I’m not taking you back to that store.”