Angel by Dani Wyatt Read Free Book Online

is going to be all right.  But she isn’t here, and I’m not sure everything is ever going to be all right.  I rest my arms on the counter, try to avoid sniffling, and try to speak in an even tone that doesn’t give away how lost I feel right now.  “I’m renting it for the week.” I grab the pen off the counter and swallow the lump in my throat.
    He narrows his eyes at me with a lethargic look up and down, licking his teeth, then this grin spreads over his face and he nods. “Got it.” 
    He shoves a blank information card in front of me.  “Fill this out.  If you’re going to have a lot of people coming and going from your room,” he winks and drags dirt-encrusted fingers through hair that hasn’t seen shampoo for a while.  He lowers his voice, leaning in as though we are sharing a secret. “Just watch out, the cops have been trolling us the last few days.  Quota time, I guess.  Couple girls went for a ride downtown last night.  If you need any supplies , just let me know.  I’ve got you covered.”  He nods at me with a knowing grin.
    I clear my throat and struggle to fill out the card, taking my time just like my mom taught me when the letters start to dance.  She never lost her patience with my reading and writing, made sure I was able to manage.  Luckily, the clerk’s sense of time is as wonky and he doesn’t seem to notice it takes me a lot longer than it should to complete the simple registration.
    When I jab the completed information card toward him, he snatches it from me.  Then he wrestles to open up a drawer under the counter, mumbling something to himself.
    He hands me the key. Not a key card, obviously. No, this is an actual brass key on one of those plastic ID rings with the room number.  This is barely a step above the Bates Motel.  Actually, I’m not even sure which I’d prefer.
    We manage to finish our transaction without any more need for words, and I’m relieved.  I don’t know how most people do this, any of it.  I find it so exhausting just trying to interact with people, never mind when those people remind me of everything I’ve lost.
    With a sigh, I remind myself that tomorrow is a new day.  Bigger paycheck next week.  New town. Fresh start.
    No more Magnus.
    My heart skips a beat, and I can’t decide if it’s from relief or some twinge of grief. I think I will miss him.  He made me feel special in an odd way.  When he was there with me, I felt like all his attention was focused on me.  I’ve never felt that before except from my mom.
    Not even the stunning Andrea drew his eye, not once.  It was like he didn’t even see her when she would sashay by. And I’ve yet to see another male customer that could manage that.
    It’s not that I think I’m ugly, not that I honestly think there is a standard by which that should be judged.  I’m just not much of anything.  Average.  Average hair, a little plump, plain face, quiet. I wouldn’t know how to flirt if you held a flame thrower to my nose.
    I’d spent so much time with mom in the last five years, if it weren’t for Andrea I would have had no meaningful human contact at all. 
    Unless you count Magnus.
    And part of me wants to count Magnus.
    But the larger part of me doesn’t because I’m not sure what is there to count.
    I groan under my breath as I wiggle the key into the lock of room 112 and take in the stale scent of the brown carpet, damp-stained velvet accented wallpaper, and a general feeling of dread.
    I perch on the end of the bed and stare at the square box of a TV, complete with foil wrapped antenna, certain that the faded floral comforter on the bed would never pass the body fluids black-light test.
    So this is it.  Home sweet home.

Chapter Five
    _______________________________________________
    MAGNUS

    “W estwood Gallery called.”  Cindy greets me with a smile as I step into the lobby of Renault Wines.  She’s taking messages from the after hours’ voicemail at the front lobby