Maddie wished me well with my mysterious time off, and then I left them, walking through the store and exchanging greetings with my other co-workers as they scurried around with their closing tasks. I’d nearly made it to the door when I heard someone call my name. I turned and saw Casey hurrying toward me. She was twenty or so and went to the University of Washington. She’d worked here almost the entire time she’d been in college and was one of our best employees. So, I stopped and forced a smile, my eyes straying longingly toward the door.

“Hey, what’s up?”

She grinned, dark eyes sparkling. “I wanted to know if you were going to go to my party next weekend,” she said. “You never answered the e-mail.”

I didn’t remember any e-mail, but then, I’d been pretty trigger-happy with the delete key lately. “I didn’t get it,” I lied. “What’s going on?”

“It’s my graduation party. This Sunday.”

I frowned. “It’s April.”

“I’m graduating early. I got all my credits finished up, so I don’t have to do spring quarter. Pretty cool, huh?”

“Whoa,” I said, actually impressed. “That is cool. Math, right?”

“Math and Latvian.”

“Why on earth—never mind.” Now was not the time to pursue why someone of Filipino heritage was studying Baltic languages. “I wish I could go, but I’m leaving town tomorrow for some family stuff and don’t know when I’ll be back. I’m really sorry.”

Casey’s face fell a little, but she told me she understood. And like Maddie, she wished me well and hoped my “family” business would be taken care of easily. That made two of us. She left me and went to finish her closing tasks.

As soon as I cleared the store’s door and was outdoors, I stopped and exhaled. Breezy night air washed over me. Being in Seth’s presence was smothering. It stirred up too much in me. Even while talking business and numbers with Doug and Maddie, most of my attention had been on Seth—exactly how far away he stood from me, the way he smelled, the way his messy hair stuck up today. Everything else had been background noise compared to him.

Reaching into my purse with shaking hands, I pulled out my cigarettes, desperately needing one for the walk home. I’d smoked for a century or so and stopped ten years ago, something I’d been very proud of, even though I was immune to the effects. Stress had driven me to pick up the habit again. I felt a little bad about subjecting others to secondhand smoke, but honestly, smoking was the least of my problems right now.

“Fuck.” I flicked the switch on my lighter and got nothing. Three more flicks produced similar results. Holding the lighter up to my ear, I shook it. Nothing. It was out of fluid. “Fuck,” I repeated. I only lived a few blocks away, but somehow, that walk was now going to be agony.

Suddenly, I heard what sounded like a boot scuff around the corner of the building. Frowning, I took a few steps forward, wondering if anyone was there. This area was pretty safe, but Lower Queen Anne still had its share of vagrants. Yet, when I glanced around the corner, there was no one there.