There are just too many coincidences. It’s like it was meant to be. I have to go see him again.
As usual, the reasonable, practical side of me was quick to counter.
Bonita got lucky. I’ve never been able to count on luck. It’s best I do not take the chance. Anyway, he’s probably a dangerous criminal. Besides, I came to Perth to work, not to have some wild adventure with a guy who keeps cages and a mattress in an abandoned shack - no matter how hot he might be.
My prudent, rational side was winning out and had all but quashed any impulse I might have had to throw caution to the wind when my body started assaulting my mind with pangs of hunger.
I need to eat. I could go pick something up at the store, but I am on a very tight budget and he did invite me over for lunch.
As if I needed further persuasion, the sky opened up, and a torrent of rain began to fall.
I covered my head the best I could and raced down the trail. I was drenched by the time I’d made it back into town. A few paces ahead of me was the shack. And a good ten-minute walk away was the lodge. I was cold and shivering.
At this point, Greta, you’d be stupid not to stop in, at least to get yourself out of the rain.
The shack, which Mystery Man insisted was not a shack but a video studio had been completely transformed. Gone were the cages—Mystery Man told me he’d put them outside. The camera and lights had been stowed away, and a curtain had been hung, dividing the room in two and hiding the gingerbread set and the mattress.
Instead of a colorful, if not shady, video set, the room had a table set for two with flowers and a candle as a centerpiece.
“But...” I stood flabbergasted at the doorway.
“Come in, Greta. My goodness, you’re soaking wet.”
When I didn’t move but rather stared in disbelief, he took my hands in his, gently pulled me inside, and shut the door behind me.
“But I said I wouldn’t be coming,” I said motioning to the table set for two.
“And I knew you would.” He winked at me and led me over to the table. “Have a seat. I’ll go get you a towel.”
I remained standing and took in the surroundings. With the windows boarded up, almost no light bled in from outside—not that the sun was out anyway. And the patter of the rain against the roof added a cozy vibe to the place where the night before there had been anything but.
“Here you go.” Mystery Man handed me a towel. “I’ve got some workout clothes you could change into. I don’t know if they’d fit, but…”
I couldn’t tell from his smile if his offer was sincere or playful.
“I’ve been here less than a minute and already you’re trying to get me out of my clothes?” I said jokingly.
He lifted his shoulders. “I just want you to be comfortable.” He pointed to my shirt. “And those clothes don’t look comfortable to me.”
I dried off my hair and handed him back the towel. Then I pulled on my shirt and looked down at it. “Well, if you have a dry top, I’d be grateful.”
He motioned to the curtain. “There’s a rucksack on the mattress. Help yourself to whatever you find in there.”
Shivering from the cold, standing before a makeshift gingerbread wall with a stranger on the other side of the curtain, I pulled off my wet top and slipped on an overly large T-shirt. It fell to my mid-thigh, and I thought about getting out of my wet pants. I could almost hear Bonita’s voice in my head cheering me on. Do it! Do it!
As per usual, my prudence prevailed. So, it was not without a tinge of disappointment that I went back to the other side of the curtain, wearing a dry top, but still in my wet pants.
“More comfortable?” he asked me with a smile.
I cocked my head to the side. “Not quite all the way there,” I wanted to say. But instead, I nodded and said, “Better. Thank you.”
He offered me his hand. “Here, let’s put your wet clothes up to dry.”
I gave him my wet top and followed him out the room down a narrow, poorly lit corridor.
“This place used to be a bakery.” He waved a hand in the air. “Way, way back. Whoever bought the place left one of the old bread ovens. Still works.”
The corridor led to a back door, but another room led off to the side as well. “I’ve arranged the room into a makeshift kitchen. More like a closet with a stove and an oven, but you make do with what you’ve got.”
He motioned for me to enter. The room was so small, I had to keep my arms down by my side just to squeeze in.