The man looked at Eric, bemused.

“I should really let you two get back to work,” said Eric.  “I didn’t mean to intrude.”

But Brooke went on as if he hadn’t spoken.  “You just like buying red roses because you think that’s the only kind you can buy that makes you look romantic instead of like a pansy.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” said the man, but there was a wounded look in his eyes that told Eric she knew exactly what she was talking about.  “Anyway, here you go.”  He unlocked the door and swung it open, puzzling over it.  “Maybe I didn’t lock it all the way or something.”

“That could be it,” Eric agreed.  “Maybe it didn’t quite catch or something.”

He nodded.  “You might be right.  I’ll keep an eye on it.  Maybe it’s just one of those one-time sort of things.  If it happens again, I’ll have the locks replaced.”

Eric apologized again.

“Not your fault, buddy.  Honest mistake.”

These people were nice.  Eric almost regretted lying to them.  But he had no intention of telling them the truth.

“Come back and have a beer sometime during business hours, why don’t you?” said the woman.

“Oh, I might.  It’s a real nice place you’ve got here.”

“Thanks,” said the man.  “We’re real proud of it.  I’m Leon, by the way.  Leon Rufar.  That’s my wife, Brooke.”

“Brooke,” said Eric.  “Right.  This is…”

“Big Brooke Tavern,” said Brooke proudly.  “I’m Big Brooke.”

Eric had thought Big Brooke was a place, not a person, but it was just as apt.  Brooke was quite…big…after all…  “I’m Eric Fortrell.”

Big Brooke gave him a curious smile and said, “Bring me a pretty flower, Eric, and maybe I’ll give you something on the house.”  This offer came with a mischievous wink that left Eric baffled and more than a little uneasy.

Leon rolled his eyes.  “Jesus, woman…”

Eric bowed out the open door with an awkward smile.  "Thanks," was all he could think to say.  Then he was walking down the sidewalk, squinting in the bright sunlight again, the daisies rustling in the breeze.

His phone chimed at him, alerting him to a new text message.

It was from Isabelle.  As always, her messages went straight to the screen, never giving him the option to view or ignore it.  This one read, I LIKE YOUR NEW GIRLFRIEND

Eric shoved it back into his pocket.  “Ha ha.”

Don’t stop there!  Rushed: The Unseen is on sale right now!

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About the Author

Brian Harmon is an author of horror fiction, suspense and dark adventure.  He grew up in rural Missouri and currently lives in Southern Wisconsin with his wife, Guinevere, and their two children.

www.HarmonUniverse.com