He looked thoughtful for a second, before adding. "It's just that I don't give it often. Of course, in this case, I was simply returning the favor. Besides,"
And here he peered at her, his smile growing more charming, if possible. "I couldn't leave a pretty lady like you in distress."
Theresa suddenly found the spot on the wallpaper the most interesting thing she'd seen in ages.
"Doesn't the shop open at eight thirty?"
Today's frustratingly slow mental switch flickered again in Theresa's head. She rose and ran to the door to unlock it, only to remember that she'd already done so in letting the man in. Flustered, Theresa went to the other window and pulled open the blinds for that one as well, signaling to the public that the shop was officially open.
When she returned to the back of the shop, the man was sitting behind the counter, looking a little out of place next to an assortment of old bobbins and pins. Theresa apologized for her clumsiness, at which the sophisticated stranger laughed away, saying there was no need, and that she was a wonderful daughter for being so diligent.
Theresa didn't know if she should bloom or wither under his compliment. She was tired of always being so prone to schedules and such. His words seemed to sting at her covert hypocrisy.
The next few minutes settled in much more comfortably, in which the stranger asked Theresa her name. She answered faithfully, then told him a bit about the shop and its customs. He was a keen listener, she found out, and was good at making her feel more relaxed but also alert. The uncanny rhythm of gentle probing and easy attentiveness made for the storyteller to feel as if her daily life was a little exciting. After customary inquiries into her family and current work were done, they veered onto the weather. Then, after the proper talk about the weather had been done, they lapsed into momentary silence. Now, a scant few feet away from such a man, Theresa's shyness returned full force. She had so many questions, but it was frustratingly hard to start asking them!
Perhaps it was the feeling of obligation. Although she knew that this was a favor from him, she felt compelled to return the favor, somehow, at least make this worth his while. Unfortunately, the usual day at the hat shop bred some discomfort for its owner. Put more simply, the town's most eager young gossips enjoyed making a sport of visiting.
At ten, the usual crowd of girls started flocking at the front of the hat shop. Theresa grew worried, biting the inside of her cheek as she glanced to see if the man had noticed. They milled about, and gathered like a group of snowy pigeons, each in their individual finery. Theresa thought them more like crows on the inside, though she'd never say that aloud.
The man brushed some golden strands of hair out of his eyes and seemed to perk up. "Look, Theresa. Customers! We should advertise!" he said cheerfully.
"They-they're..."
But he was already out of his seat. Theresa lost heart to dissuade him. How could she admit that the girls were here to tease her?
Theresa wrung her hands in dismay. But before she could muster the courage to protest again, the man had already walked up to the display window and tapped it to reach the neighborhood girls on the other side. Theresa watched, horrified, as Lissy turned her head first.
Lissy's soft hazel eyes widened as she saw him come closer. She scanned up and down, before registering that the man was, yes, inside the Potter shop. Quickly, she batted her eyelashes as she glanced at him again, demurely this time. The girls around her tittered enviously as the attractive stranger pointed to Lissy then to his coat, and capped it off by giving Lissy a handsome smile. Theresa felt a pang of conscience at the sour feeling in her own gut.
Amazing everyone at the scene, Lissy opened the door to the Potter shop and stepped her two daintily slippered feet inside. Theresa balked at the sight, but the man merely smiled winningly again. Lissy cast her eyes downward, walking in small but stately steps toward the displays of coats. Theresa was appalled. She had never seen Lissy back down from a man before. Mostly, they were the ones who blushed in her presence, not the other way around!
For once, Lissy ignored Theresa, and her attention honed on the man in front of her. She followed his every word, nodding dazedly. The town silversmith's daughter was starting to look like a fish that had too much sun. Dazed, and very... pliant. In contrast, Theresa's sour feeling only intensified.
"So, I trust you do understand that coats are remarkably in style nowadays." The man finished, his silver eyes staring straight into the customer's. Lissy nodded like a guppy, transfixed.
Theresa took note of her new shop attendant's remarkable power of persuasion.
"And I'm sure that a young woman such as yourself would keep up with the latest fashion tips and statements," he continued in his imploringly suave voice. Lissy's mouth hung slightly loose, her eyes still caught at his face.
"So you'll buy one?"
Lissy closed her mouth, opened it, closed it again, before nodding slowly. The man laughed in delight, before walking to a nearby rack and selecting the closest one, a cream silk coat that Theresa knew was of good material and therefore higher expense. Lissy followed his movements with her eyes.
He brought it before her, presenting it dramatically. "I believe this one suits you. It looks positively ravishing. I only believe you'll enhance its beauty even more."
Lissy's cheeks were flushed and her eyes looked glassy, Theresa noted. Perhaps the new shop attendant was a bit too persuasive.
Also noticing, the man smiled worriedly, and put a hand on Lissy's shoulder. "Are you okay, miss?"
Lissy gasped out that she was fine.
Since his new patron looked a little out of sorts to walk to the pay counter and out the door by herself, the man Theresa now considered an excellent business partner held Lissy's trembling hand, all the way to the door. And as soon as Lissy stepped out of the shop, new hat in hand, a remarkable thing happened. All the young girls who'd been holding their breaths at the door let it out in one great rush and proceeded to shove each other to get through the door to the shop first.
The young man grinned at them all, and lo, they seemed to come under the same spell as Lissy, who continued to hang by the door, looking wistful.
Hat after hat got sold, each of them in the higher range of prices.
Theresa collected the money and delivered change, growing more and more curious at the poor girls' conditions. They seemed not to register the value of the fat gold coins they deposited, as they sent besotted looks toward the new Potter shop worker, who looked extremely fine in his forest green suit, which suited his pretty hair and pretty eyes oh so well, Theresa heard them coo. It was then that Theresa decided that the man was a gift from the above to her father's shop, sent down to help gain customers.
Indeed, she had never sold that many hats in that short of a time.
The girls hung about all day, and the charming man wrung out of each the promise to tell their neighbors, their neighbors' children, and their neighbors' dogs, even, about the hat shop.
As the sun traversed the sky, shining ever more brightly before the dusky evening, it came time to close shop. Theresa informed her new best employee of this, and he in turn announced this to all the girls milling still in the hat shop. They sighed and cried out wretchedly, but soon, the man had them marching out of the shop in two straight lines.
One poor girl burst out into tears upon leaving through the door, and the man had to look noble and reassure her before she would leave, on the premise that when she would come to visit, he would be there. Theresa swallowed a small chuckle when she heard the reply. The shop didn't open at the 'stroke of dawn'.
After they were all gone, the day's earnings needed to be filed in the ledger. Theresa held her breath as her fingers counted the profit. They had sold more than thirty five hats, and all of them top notch and high in cost, too.
The young man walked over. He looked a little tired, but his eyes smiled along with his mouth as he asked:
"So, Theresa, did it go well?"
Theresa was in the middle of wracking her brain on how to properly thank him, but quickly regained her composure. She stepped toward him, stopped and then nodded enthusiastically.
"You've been so much help," she smiled at him, sincerity in her face. "Thank you," she added.
The tone of her voice made an expression akin to wonder bloom on his face for a second, before he laughed pleasantly. He had a rich tenor laugh, full and different from his knowing chuckles during sales hours.
She smiled softly, too, before saying, "You've done more than enough to pay me back, really. You don't have to come back tomorrow."
His face grew serious, underneath a thin veneer of good humor. "Theresa," he said, and the way her name sounded on his lips was suddenly different. "Don't ever think I go back on my word to you. I said seven days, right? Well then, a week it will be, no less."
"But what about you? Your duties?"
"I don't have duties so much as, well, freedoms."
"Freedoms?" Theresa's brow knit.
"Sure," he laughed. "Things I want to do. Adventures. Wherever, whenever."
At Theresa's dismayed look around the room at the decidedly unadventurous rows of hats, the man grinned wider.
"This is my grandest adventure yet, Theresa."
A profound feeling flooded her chest, and she realized she'd been holding her breath. To think that this hat shop could be an adventure.
That the shop she loved, because she loved her father, could be someone's idea of freedom, adventure, and fancy! She looked down, hoping he didn't see the genuine relief on her face.
"Thank you," she whispered.
It then occurred to her that she barely knew anything about the man. After deeper thought, she realized that she didn't know anything at all. His name, age, profession. Nothing had been revealed to her during the course of what seemed like a natural conversation. Theresa had told him much about herself, but he remained a mystery. It was the same since their first talk yesterday, the same as when two pairs of blue eyes had stared back at her in the alley way.
Theresa looked up now to meet those same eyes. A man with such a taste for adventure was likely every Fairaway girl's pipe dream, with a bonus of clear skin, laughing eyes, and golden hair that fell loosely to his shoulders. Behind his charm, he seemed sensitive, too, and knew her troubles from the day they'd met, and walked her home.
But he was also a stranger.
'Of course he is going to keep his distance!' Theresa thought. She could only rely on him, and had nothing of substance to offer in return. It made her feel inferior now, making eye contact with such an enigma.
The stranger seemed to sense her anxiety now. His brow creased. "Theresa, what's wrong?"
Theresa shook her head. "No, nothing." Then, feeling bolder, she said. "It's just that, I don't know much about you at all." As soon as she said this, she felt badly. She was on the receiving end of a favor already. What right did she have to demand more? "If it's rude to ask, I'm sorry."
He laughed, also apologetic. "No, it's my fault. I should have introduced myself properly!"
He stood, and Theresa looked up at him from her seat. His gaze seemed to bore into her as he mused. "My name... well, I guess you can call me-" Indecisive seemed to flit across his features for a moment, before he took a deep breath and said, simply:
"Seros."
Theresa's seat nearly toppled. "Seros?" she breathed, incredulous. "Sinister Seros?"
She knew enough about town gossip, and had lived for enough years at Fairaway to know what they said about Sinister Seros. The man seemed to grimace for a second before he laughed it off.
"Ah, no, not that Seros. My name is Seros Westley."
Theresa looked at his apologetic face, listened to the warm chuckle.
"I'm really just a traveler passing through Fairaway," he assured her, and Theresa calmed down.
"Of course." She was overreacting. Why would Sinister Seros be so quick to divulge his identity? But still, her words came less easily than before. "Okay…Si-Seros, then."
Theresa couldn't help but think about Georgina Rice and what had happened to her as she uttered that name. Still, this man was too nice, too generous with his time to be someone like Sinister Seros, whom she imagined was old and wicked, eating young girls' hearts for no reason at all.
Seros leaned down toward her, heavy lashes shadowing his cheeks. Unfortunately, Theresa's own cheeks felt hot.
"Well," Seros declared. "I should get going. You close shop and get some rest, too."
Theresa nodded. One day with this intriguing man called Seros was ending. She had planned to get to know him better, but now had a suspicion that this man would always remain mysterious and unknown, even to one who wanted to understand him and what he occupied himself with. Freedom, was it? It seemed so different from her own life, and yet, Theresa felt a closer kinship than ever.
Seros mock-saluted playfully. "See you tomorrow, Theresa."
That was day one with Seros Westley.
She smiled back, crookedly.
He winked at her, before crossing the room and going to the door.
The little chime at the door 'dinged' as Seros walked out and closed the door behind him. Theresa sighed as she leaned back and thought about that day. Seros was a definite asset to the shop, and while what they'd earned so far wasn't quite so much that it could save her father's shop, Theresa was grateful. Grateful from deep within her heart. Because here was a man who thought this shop a grand adventure. Perhaps Theresa, even as the eldest of three daughters, could come to find her grand adventure here in her father's store, too.
Theresa looked out the windows. Though the dusk was setting on, she thought she could make out Seros's figure, walking away. She tried to not lose sight of him.
Theresa blinked, and it seemed that the night had swallowed him up
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