Chapter Eight

ImageI sent Poe back to the nest with a quilt, a pillow, and a stack of books from my library. I locked him in with the explanation that people would be cleaning the bar during the day. The fact of the matter was that I still didn’t trust him not to leave the building while I slept, and no amount of alarms or sirens would wake me after the sun came up.

Once he was tucked in, I unlocked and opened the back door. The pre-dawn darkness was my favorite time, when everything about the day was still possible, and circumstances and moods hadn’t asserted themselves on the best laid plans. I stood for a moment just breathing in the damp air and enjoying the silence of the dark.

“You don’t look like you slept at all.” I almost leapt out of my skin when the voice came from the darkness like a disembodied ghost. Then I saw Nick leaning against the wall beside my back door, and I wanted to hit him. I settled for ignoring him. “Hey George,” I called down the alley, “the door will be unlocked for about ten minutes. Bathroom’s on the left down the hall. Then meet me in the bar and I’ll give you breakfast.”

I looked at Nick and realized he hadn’t slept either, so I relented. “You want coffee, or something to put you to sleep?”

He grinned at me, and despite the tired lines etched in his face, there was a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. “I’ll take whatever you’re offering.”

I couldn’t help the smile as I turned to head back inside. Nick followed me into the bar, where I turned on an electric kettle and pulled out two mugs.

“You’re not having any?” he asked.

I shook my head. “I’m heading to bed as soon as I lock up.”

He sat at his usual barstool across from me and then nodded his head toward the hall. “Why are you doing it?”

I raised an eyebrow. “George?”

“Yeah.”

I shrugged. “If not me, then who?” It had been too long since I’d said those words, and I savored the taste of them – slightly sweet, slightly tart, with a hint of satisfaction.

I pulled a couple of packets of oatmeal out of a drawer and poured them into a bowl, then I measured espresso grounds into a French press.

“Don’t you have to work today?” I asked Nick as I added boiling water to the coffee.

He shook his head. “Day off. Want to do something?”

“I’ll be sleeping, and so should you,” I said without my usual disclaimer about dating customers. “What are they doing about the pawn shop guy, by the way?” I asked with the subtlety of an elephant. Nick didn’t seem to notice though.

“The owner’s been sleeping in the shop with a loaded gun,” he scoffed, disgusted. “What could possibly go wrong?”

The pit in my stomach that had been there since Poe stumbled into my bar yawned wider, and I fussed with the French press just for something to do with my hands.

“Can I ask you something, Ren?”

I shrugged. “Sure.”

“How is it you’ve owned this building since it was built in the 1840s?”

My heart hammered, but my hand was steady as I poured the coffee into two mugs. “The land was deeded to a trust set up for the first Alexandra Reynolds by her father, and all the firstborn girls in my family were named after her. Naming me after that long-dead grandmother ensured that the title never has to transfer out of the trust.”

I turned to hand him his coffee. “Why were you looking at my property records?”

He shrugged. “Because I can. Because I’m interested. Historic architecture in this city is a hobby, and this is a cool building.”

George shuffled down the hall and stopped before entering the main bar.

“Come in, George. Grab your coffee, and I’ve got some oatmeal and fruit too,” I said as I poured the hot water into the bowl with the instant oatmeal.

I had no idea how old George was or how long he’d been homeless. He’d just showed up in my back alley one day, and after about a month it became clear he would stay for the summer. So I asked his name and started bringing him whatever bar snacks I had left over each night. George dismantled his shelter whenever the first frost hit and returned again each spring to rebuild. I’d never asked him where he wintered, and until now, he’d never come inside.

“George, this is Nick. Nick, George.”

With his face scrubbed clean and his wet hair pushed back off his face, George’s probable age went from indeterminate to somewhere in his forties. He nodded warily at Nick, then shuffled to the bar to pick up the mug and the bowl. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“Have a seat,” I said, indicating a barstool next to Nick. George eyed it, then shook his head.

“If it’s all the same to you, ma’am, I’d prefer to take my food outside.” He didn’t meet my eyes and shuffled his feet uncomfortably.

“No problem,” I said, putting two bananas and a bunch of grapes in a bag. “I’ll open the back door again at sunset. You’re welcome to use the bathroom whenever I don’t have customers.”

George seemed to consider Nick for a long moment before he finally nodded, as if to himself, and then met my eyes. I was struck by how old they looked, even in the face of a fairly young man, and the amber color made him look wild somehow.

“You’re very kind, ma’am,” he said simply.

I sighed. “No, I’m very tardy. I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to offer.”

George picked up the bag and the dishes in one hand, then tipped his imaginary hat to me with the other. “I’ll watch the door while you sleep,” he said, and he flashed me the smallest smile as he left, which made him look even younger still.

Nick watched George go, and when he heard the back door close, finally turned back to face me. “What do you know about him?”

I shrugged. “He showed up about five years ago, stays the summer, and winters somewhere else. That’s what I know.”

He shook his head. “I can’t figure you out. You leave the door open for a homeless guy you know nothing about, but I come and sit at your bar every night for two years, and I don’t get an invitation.”

Nick’s teasing always came with a smile, and suddenly, I was too tired to defend against him. So I smirked. “Nick Pieretti, I invite you to use my bathroom whenever I don’t have customers.”

He laughed, then impulsively stood, leaned over the bar, and gave me a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll take you up on that. Sleep tight, Ren, and lock up behind me.”

I resisted the urge to touch my cheek and walked him down the hall. He stopped at the men’s bathroom and opened the door. “No shower,” he said, closing it.

I shook my head. “I have one upstairs but I’m not really—”

“No,” he said quickly. “My brother-in-law sells pre-assembled shower stalls for trailers. If you have a room with plumbing that I can steal part of, I’ll put one in for you.”

I stared at him. “There’s a supply closet I don’t need right next to the bathroom. Why would you—” I didn’t know how to finish that question because I wasn’t quite sure what I was asking.

“George didn’t sit down because he knows how he smells, and sink washing isn’t going to cut it. You were going to let him upstairs into your space, and I’d feel better if you kept your altruism downstairs, because I’m protective about my friends,” he grinned tiredly, “even the ones who won’t date me.”

He continued walking toward the back door. “I’ll bring some clothes by that should fit him, and if you’re willing to throw his things into the laundry sometimes, he might be willing to eat inside.”

I exhaled softly. “Thanks, Nick.”

He stopped to face me before opening the door. “Sleep tight, Ren.”

“What changed your mind about George?” I asked.

Nick’s eyes searched mine for a long moment, and I tried not to feel his gaze in my stomach, but it had nonetheless begun filling a little of the pit that was there. “He sized me up,” he finally said.

That surprised me. “What?”

“He’s protective of you, and he sized me up. When he decided I wasn’t a threat to you, he took his food to go.”

“How—?”

“Cop eyes.” Nick kissed my forehead. “Don’t let the bedbugs bite.”

“Dream wonderful dreams or dream nothing at all,” I added automatically.

He smiled. “That’s a good wish,” he said before he closed the door behind him.

I waited a moment by the door listening to Nick murmur something to George. When there was silence again outside, I turned my senses in. All was quiet in the building, and for the first time in a very long time, my mind was quiet too.