Page 15 of It's a Brewtiful Day
I shielded my eyes as I pressed against the window and peered inside. Most of the lights were off, including those over the display case. Thankfully, Elliot was still there and came running over.
The rains blew in an unnatural arc, soaking my calves and shoes.
“What are you doing out there?” Elliot asked, pushing against the door to open it. “Get inside.” Using his body weight, he managed to pull the door closed and lock it.
“It’s awful out there.”
“No kidding. Here, let me help you.” He took the box from my arms and walked toward the counter.
I felt loads lighter following him, and then I remembered why; it wasn’t the box of books. “My bag.”
“Where is it?”
“Under the counter at Pages, but I can goback and get it.”
Wide-eyed, he stared out the window. “Right now? In this?”
“Yeah, but I need to give the alarm system fifteen minutes to cycle through or whatever it does. Mind if I wait here for a few?” I glanced into the chrome reflection of the display case and swiped my fingers under my eyes to remove any possible traces of mascara. No need to resemble a raccoon.
“Not at all. What’s in the box?” He walked in my direction.
“Those are for Nina. She wanted a take one, leave one shelf.” I finger brushed the damp ends of my hair to try and remove the stringiness of it all. The rain had ruined the good look I had successfully achieved this morning. At least Elliot had seen my more polished version this morning, now it was the unfiltered variety.
“That explains that.” He pointed to a dark empty three-shelf unit over by my chair.
I took the box back. “While I’m waiting for the alarm to reset, I’ll fill this up.”
“Let me make you a warm drink. I haven’t shut everything down yet.”
“That’s sweet of you. I’m good, but thanks. I just want to get home before the worst of this hits.” And pray the storm passed before the meeting, although … that would definitely give me an out, and Cassie would back it up.
“It’s not a problem. I was just about to make myself one.”
A warm drink had its appeal and suddenly my taste buds started prepping for a party. “What are you making?”
“Was going to make myself a gingerbread mocha.”
“Yeah, that sounds amazing. Thanks, I’d like one.”
I crouched down on the floor in front of the shelves and opened the box. One by one I added the books, arranging them in such a way that they looked enticing, like I was prone to do in the bookstore. I set the weathered box with the chess set under the box with an older version of Guess Who. Satisfied with the way it looked, I rose.
“Your coffee.” Elliot sat my drink on the edge of the counter and wiped it down, the click of buttons sounding one by one as he turned off the machines.
He swiped his hands together and hung his apron on the hook by what I guessed was the door to the storage area since Nina’s office had a sign indicating what lay beyond that door.
“Where do you put your empty boxes?” I gazed down the short hall to the storage.
“Just by the front door. I’ll drop them off in the bins as I walk by.”
Same as us. All garbage and recyclables were dropped off in the bins just behind our strip of stores. One building, three stores, and a shared waste collection.
Looking out the window by the long bar with the stools all tucked under, another wet gust whipped more garbage around. Like a mini twister was forming outside the window, an empty soft drink container spun in place and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. The white picket fence across the street was acting as a strainer as the debris was collecting against the wooden boards.
Slowly, I inched backward, right into Elliot’s firm chest.
“Wow, would you look at that?” His voice tickled my ears as his hands steadied me.
“Ah, yeah.”