I made it across the street without getting hit by a car, so bonus points for actually flinging myself into the roadway and having luck on my side. Petunia panted next to me, her anxiety clear as I dragged her into the antique store, the darkness of the interior and musty smell washing me over with a rather gloomy mix that triggered my bad mood all over again.
I almost turned around and walked away. This was dumb. I'd just agreed to stop digging into things that had nothing to do with me. In fact, I had already begun to pivot, sneaker squeaking on the old tile, when Oliver appeared out of the dimness of the interior of his shop, coat still on, hair standing up at odd angles like a brush was the least of his possessions.
"Miss Fleming," he said. "Can I help you?" Not that he sounded like he really had any interest in being helpful, but he asked and that was enough for my brain to seize my mouth and open it and speak before I could shut myself up and just leave already.