He was already gone when I woke up. I'd never been able to figure out how he stole
around the place so silently, in the wee hours, but I seldom woke up when he left for work
early. Really, there was almost nothing to signify he'd been here at all. It wouldn't be the first
time he had slept in the office, but an extra plate and glass in the dishwasher indicated that
he'd been home.
After a quick shower, I dressed quickly, took a deep breath, and cracked my knuckles.
It was time to figure this thing out.
***
I was back at square one.
Three days until Valentine's, and the Victoria's Secret was a madhouse. I don't know
why I expected anything different. Jostled between hordes of grim-faced women, shuffling
through rapidly-dwindling piles of lace panties and tossing their rejects aside, I felt a sour
taste developing in my mouth.
I finally left, empty-handed, when I realized the line was snaking around the entire
store twice.
Back to square zero.
***
"Sorry, never heard of it."
This bookstore was a carbon copy of the other one, except it was a very small, dirtywhite
dog with an underbite who glared at me from the corner.
I bit my lip and sighed. The owner, a stringy fifty-something man with an impressive
grey mustache and tattoos snaking all up and down his arms, stared down at the card.
"This for Valentine's day?"