I worried for a moment that Andrew might look up and around the store very obviously, but he was very stealthy. For a sexy geek, that is. He still smiled at his phone but his eyes looked around the room, before he put his phone down, sipped his coffee, and picked up a magazine.
I took the escalator back to the ground floor and went in the direction I’d seen Lance the Tosser go. I found him standing at the back, almost hiding behind a row of shelves, trying to be inconspicuous as he scanned the room. I walked directly up to him, and he did a double take when he saw me.
“Great minds think alike, huh?” I said, offering him my hand to shake.
He shook it but was clearly uncomfortable. “Spencer? What are you doing here?”
“What you’re paying me to do,” I replied quietly. No one else needed to hear this conversation. “Follow leads, and hopefully find Yanni. I could possibly ask you the same thing.”
“Well, you mentioned he worked here,” he said. He even had the gall to look all sheepish about it. Then he sighed and frowned, his forehead creased with worry. “I just want to see him.”
Man, he was good. I wondered, very briefly, if I had him pegged wrong. Could he have been honestly concerned for Yanni and I read him all wrong? Was I way off the mark on the whole situation? I had to admit, now I wasn’t sure. But in keeping with the lies I’d told him about Yanni working here, I said, “He’s not here. I’ve asked already.”
“But he does work here?”
“I spoke to a girl working upstairs. She said she hadn’t worked here long, but there was no Yanni here today, and the staff here now are the only ones working until closing time. That was all she said. He could be rostered on tomorrow or next week or not at all. I don’t know.”
Lance sighed, and slowly started to nod. “Okay.”
I looked out the glass wall at the front, using the opportunity to also see if Andrew was sitting at the café. He was, thankfully. “It’s dark out. You just finished work?”
“Yeah,” he mumbled. “I should probably get going home.”
“Oh, sure thing,” I said.
Lance took a step away, then stopped. “Is this the lead you were talking about? You said there was one more lead in looking for him.”
“Oh, yeah. It is. Well, it was,” I amended quickly. “I can make some more calls tomorrow if you like.”
He looked to the floor, then back to me. “I dunno… I guess he’s just gone.”
Shit. Either this guy was genuine, or he deserved an Oscar. “Look, I’ll see what I can find tomorrow, and I’ll be in touch. Don’t make any decisions right now.”
He nodded, forced a smile, and left. I watched him go, and when he’d disappeared into the night, I looked at Andrew.
He was still sitting there, but he was now looking at me, his expression curious and a little concerned.
I gave him a smile and remembered the little game he wanted to play. I held up my finger in a ‘one-second’ gesture and disappeared around the stacks of books. I needed to find the perfect thing… It took a little more than one second, but after I found it. Actually, I found two.
Holding one of the books behind my back so he couldn’t see it, I walked over. I stood at the chair in front of him. “Excuse me, would you mind if I sat down?”
He smiled but played along. “Please do.”
I sat on the seat, letting the book behind my back stay out of view. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“Do you ever wonder why the most common gestures of affection are to give flowers or chocolates?”
Andrew snorted quietly. “It’s not something I’ve given a great deal of thought to, no.”
“I have.”
“Is that right?” he said, trying to be serious. He slid the magazine back onto the table. “And what conclusion did you come to?”
I sighed. “Well, it’s a good gesture. A nice thing to do, really. If the person you wish to impress likes flowers and chocolates. But it’s become very impersonal. Like the person has put no thought into what would make the intended recipient happy. I think it’s an antiquated gesture, when life was simpler.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “A simpler life is not overrated.”
“True,” I conceded. “But if it were me, I’d like to think I knew what to get the person. A gift that would mean something. Something more personal than flowers.”
Andrew was clearly delighted. He eyed the upturned book in my lap, trying to read the title. “Is that so? Pray tell, if you were to give someone a gift—someone such as myself—what do you think you would choose?”
“Ah, see there’s the crux of my dilemma. If I could choose, I would pick you a vinyl album.”
“Or a whole record player…”
“Yes well, that too. But I would choose you a Jeff Buckley album, or a Bill Withers record.”
Andrew laughed. “But this is not a vintage LP store.”
“How very astute! Right you are! Which is why I chose this book for you.” I handed him the first book.
He read the title out loud. “A Geek’s Guide to Cooking.” He looked from the book to my face. He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes, absolutely thrown by my choice. “Really? Is this meant to flatter, insult, or amuse?”