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Part of me was curious about what was in the back room. From what I'd learned about the whole cryptid hunting thing so far, I figured it was probably where Harry kept any "evidence" he found. While I'd like to see it someday, there was no urgency.
The weather was still good, so I drove Harry's SUV to Chance's. I wanted to get used to it before I needed to worry about 4-wheel drive or snow and ice.
"I see you brought the SUV," Chance said when he opened the door. "How's it drive?"
"Seems good. Someone will have to teach me what I need to know about using the 4-wheel drive."
"I can handle that, unless you've already got someone lined up."
"Something smells delicious," I said as I walked into the kitchen. "Is it elk stew?"
"Venison, this time. I hope it’s not too pedestrian for you?"
"Pedestrian?"
"You know, dull, average." I gave him a disapproving look. "Do you want wine with dinner?"
"Sure. Thanks."
Chance served up bowls of stew with a warm rustic bread that was delicious. "Did you bake this?"
"No. I can bake, but I prefer cooking. My mom made the bread."
"It's delicious."
Dinner conversation revolved around the upcoming bigfoot convention. I pulled out my phone and showed Chance images of the postcards I ordered to advertise Hairy's. "I want to make some changes to Hairy’s, but I don't want to move too quickly. "I want to paint all the walls to brighten the place up a bit. To do that I'll have to take down all the cryptid stuff that's tacked up on the walls. I was thinking about sorting through it and pulling out the most interesting or significant photos or articles and having those framed, so we wouldn't cover all the walls, but it would look more important."
"I can't believe you brought that up."
I assumed he was irritated that I was going to touch their sacred cryptid shrine. "For God's sake Chance, they're just photos and clippings. I thought the ones that don't go back on the walls, I could put into scrapbooks so at least they'd still be there. I'm actually starting to like the idea of playing up the cryptid identity, but I want it to be nicer, more modern."
"You done?"
"For now," I said, turning my attention back to my plate.
"When I show you what I was working on earlier today, you'll understand why I said I couldn't believe you brought up making changes to the cafe." He stood up and held out his hand to me. "Come on. I want to show you something."
"What about diner?"
"We're finished. We can clean up after."
He pulled me toward the stairs. I hesitated a bit. "City Girl, if I was trying to get you into bed, I'd make sure you didn't want to hesitate before we got to this point. I have something to show you in my office.
"It's not my place, but I'd like to see the Cryptid Cafe succeed. I feel like it's a tribute to your Uncle Harry and my dad. When I saw all the cryptid books Harry had in his apartment, I realized you don't really have room for them. I thought it would be nice to make them a resource available to other cryptid hunters. Check this out."
He sat down at the desk and motioned for me to sit on the stool he'd pulled up beside him. The image on the large screen on his desk was amazing. It was some sort of architectural drawing of a table in a cafe surrounded by floor to ceiling bookshelves.
"It's gorgeous."
"I'm glad you like it. I minored in architecture. I was thinking that you have enou..."
"Wait. You made this?"
"Yeah. You have enough room to do this in the north end of your dining room. It would be a great place to store all the cryptid reference books, and it would be a coveted space for researchers."
I was staring at the drawing. It was gorgeous. I had no artistic ability, and it amazed me that Chance had created this gorgeous picture.
"You OK, City Girl?"
"I'm sorry. I'm just amazed that you made this. I don't understand why though."
He chuckled. Turning his chair to the side, he put his hands on my waist and turned me to face him instead of the screen. "I'm glad you like my work. I'm suggesting that you remodel Hairy’s and include this research table. It gives you a space to store the books so you don't have to have them in your personal space, and it will be a big draw for cryptid hunters. It fits in with your comments about displaying the cryptid photos and clippings in a more thoughtful way than just sticking them up on the wall."
"It's great, Chance. And I do like the idea of keeping Harry's books, but having them out of my personal space, but this seems like it's almost too nice for Hairy's."
"You might be right, but I think if you're going to spruce up the cafe, this might fit in nicely. I think you, like many people, picture cryptid hunters as big, burly, men with messy beards and missing teeth. That may have been true decades ago when the only one's hunting cryptids were the true mountain men who lived off the land in remote areas, but today's cryptid hunters are people like us."
"Us?"
"Yeah. People with educations and families who hold down regular jobs. People whose hobby is cryptid hunting."
"I'll think about it. Thank you for doing all this." I stood up to head back downstairs.
"Where are you going? We're not done yet?"
"There's more?"
He hit a few keys and the screen changed. I looked. It was a website for Hairy's Cafe.
"I didn't know Hairy's had a website."
"You don't, but you should." He showed me the various options on the page and explained what else we could do with it. "You could really make this a social media hot spot for cryptid hunters."
"Did the same person do this that did your website?"
"Yeah. What do you think?"
"I'm thinking I really need to start looking at things like a business owner."
"Would you like a cup of tea?" Chance asked when we were back in the kitchen. "That would be great. Thanks." I helped clean up the dishes from dinner while asking a million questions about the things Chance had shown me.
When I took the first sip of my tea, I set the cup down and looked at it. It was perfect. "The tea is perfect. Thanks. I have one question about all this?"
"Only one more?"
"Why?"
He looked at me over the rim of his coffee cup.
"Why would you do all of this for me? Does having some sort of memorial for Harry and your dad really mean that much to you?"
"It does, but it's more than that."
"Explain it to me."
He thought for a minute but, instead of explaining, he set down his coffee, stood up, pulled me into his arms and kissed me senseless. If I was confused before, I was completely flummoxed now. He ran his hand down the back of my head and eased me back into my chair.
"Do you understand now?"
For possibly the first time in my life, I was speechless. I could not form a response. I just sipped my tea and starred at Chance who was wearing his patented smirk.
Finally, Chance spoke. "You OK, City Girl?"
"Not sure," I said honestly. "I think I'd better go."
"You OK to drive home?"
I nodded. Chance brought my coat and held it out for me to slip my arms into the sleeves. He walked me to my car and held the door for me while I climbed into the driver's seat. "Text me so I know you get home safe," Chance said, "I'll call you tomorrow about the website."