Okay, so he was doing this. He was going to grow some balls and get the job done.

He took three gulps of air that tasted like rotten milk which didn’t say a lot for the hygiene of the place. The smell was foul. He wondered why Orelia would choose a place like this to frequent, where you’d more likely suffer food poisoning than gain inspiration.

Well, here goes.

He stepped to the men’s entrance and swung open the door, waiting for just a second, before backing out and moving to the left.

With his hand pressed against the lady’s bathroom door, he pushed it open with caution, prepared to jump backward in a flash. If caught he had his excuse ready. The symbols confused him. A simple mistake. Why he’d be in the same café as her, that he hadn’t worked out yet.

Again luck was with him, and as he held the door half-opened he saw that nobody was at the basins. The gray-tiled room contained four stalls; three were empty. His gut churned like a milkshake maker as he placed his first step inside the room.

The smell-taste of the hallway lingered on his tongue, and at the thought of any kind of milk, nausea rose in him. He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth hoping to subdue the feeling. This worked but his bladder twinged, reminding him again he had a physical time countdown which couldn’t be ignored. In fact, his apprehension seemed to make his need to pee worse.

He moved to the basin and opened the faucet, splashing his face with the fresh and invigorating cold water. It helped. The nausea faded a little. He pulled a handful of paper towels from the dispenser and wiped the moistness clinging to his skin.

Calm down. What’s the worst that can happen?

Ah, death. Remember Morris?

He couldn’t do this yet again. Arguing with himself at this point was no help; he needed to focus. William, he told himself, hurry the hell up. Now or never.

The annoying voice was correct. Only seconds must remain to execute this part of the plan. Succeed or fail, he was here now. Do or die! Hopefully not die. That was the point of everything he’d done so far.

If she saw him, she’d guess he knew something, if she didn’t already suspect. What would someone like her do to a person who’d learned her secret? He shut down that line of thought pronto. He’d find out soon if he didn’t move.

William turned toward the occupied stall. From inside came the sound of movement; paper rolled from the holder and shoes shuffling.

To back out now was impossible.

Seconds were all he had. Left to live.

No. Left to do what must be done. To get his hands on that book.

He took a deep breath and dropped to his knees to peer beneath the door.

Luck, luck, luck was his partner today. Protect me luck.