Page 27 of Pin-up Girl

Delicious.

She glanced up at my voice and gave me a faint smile, but quickly returned her attention to the woman she was talking to. “Let me grab what I have. I can modify some of it if you need, and probably get the rest quickly.”

“That’d be great,” the customer said.

The girl behind the counter stepped in front of me. “They’re talking about costumes for a movie. She might be a while.”

Damn it. “No worries. I’ll come back in a bit.” I spoke loudly enough for Aubrey to hear, and she gave me another brief glance—acknowledgment.

Time to go mingle.

I headed onto the street again, and stopped into shop after shop, to say hi and catch up. These people had barely been acquaintances before, and were too busy this morning to make time for me now. I didn’t blame them. I didn’t want to start making appointments to have friendly conversations, though.

I was at the end of the street, near Infused Divination, and still didn’t have a direction. The coffee was kicking in, clawing through my veins and reminding me I didn’t have an outlet for it.

The extra shot of espresso had been a bad idea. I could see if they made a tea to fix that.

Really I wanted to talk to Sebastian. If anyone would understand what I was going through, it would be him. He’d come up with a huge breakthrough in software a few years ago, and his business partner had stolen the idea, cashed in on it, and left Sebastian with nothing.

When I walked into the store, he looked up from his spot behind the counter. The wall behind him was lined with wooden boxes that had little wooden doors. Some were labeled with brass tags that I couldn’t read from here, and others had labels taped on, with handwritten words like Lavender and Peppermint and Mistletoe.

“Hey.” He gave me a reserved smile. “Another prodigal son returns.”

“That’s me.” I’d been in the same clubs in school as Sebastian, but we hadn’t been friends or enemies or anything. When we graduated, we both moved out of state, and there was no reason to keep in touch.

Except that he’d been a huge name in tech for a while, and I’d tracked his trajectory until he was pushed out.

The store was exactly what I remembered. Glass cases and wooden shelves dotted the floors. Some held tarot and oracle cards and books, and others sparkled with assortments of crystals. Teacups. Dream catchers.

New Age music played softly over the sound system.

“I’d ask what brings you back, but the tentacles of this place yank us all home eventually.” Sebastian’s tone was an odd blend of sarcasm and teasing.

That hadn’t changed either.

I shrugged. “What do you have for don’t know what the fuck to do with myself?” I nodded at the sign on the counter promised Custom Tea Blends for What Ails You.

“Depends,” Sebastian said.

“On what?”

“What you’d rather be doing instead.”

Working. Creating. Spending enough time with Aubrey to see if we worked together as well in person as online, and putting down roots here, and seeing what came next. “Not sure.”

Sebastian turned to the display behind him, and his head moved back and forth for a moment. “I can give you a blend that will make you drowsy.” He kept searching. “I’m guessing you don’t want to sleep this off. I could give you something that would make you wired, but you probably already have excess energy.” He faced me again. “Or you can head down the street to Deacon’s, and ask to see his vintage magazine collection.”

“Vintage magazines?” As in porn, or Good Housekeeping?

“Playboy. Hustler.”

Yeah, okay. “Why wouldn’t I go online for dirty pics?” I was curious. Amused.

“Online isn’t vintage.”

I did like a woman in a sexy old-fashioned outfit. A specific woman. But I also had a feeling this was about more than porn. “So I go get myself a couple old magazines, and then what?”

“Up to you.”

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