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And neither did I.
“Yes, Sir.”
Slamming down the rest of the Sleepless, I ran after him, leaving the two empty tumblers plus the nachos that had already been demolished between the two of us.
He strode like an ancient king, unlocking his car, as I lugged my e-bike along after him, feeling silly for having brought it here now.
“In the trunk,” he ordered.
I brought the bike over and he lifted it in as I stood by the passenger side, waiting for permission to enter.
He came around and opened the door for me, which I found very gentlemanly. But he was looking at my ass in a way that was decidedly ungentleman-like.
I would really have to thank Gen again for letting me borrow this outfit!
Once he was in the driver’s seat and had started up the car, we left the parking lot of the bar. Then the streetlights rolled past in the passenger side window as he took me further downtown.
With anyone else I would have been afraid, but Sven had just the right level of detachment: a demonstrated interest in me and a disinterest in what was expected. I felt perfectly safe, if for no other reason than for him to take advantages of me would be so cliché.
My trust was vindicated as the car stopped again on a dark but busy downtown street. I didn’t know where we were headed but I got out and followed him wordlessly.
The sign over the door that said “Shadow Realm Records” was more than clear, but less obvious was a big drop that appeared as we approached.
“Careful, they’re steep,” he said, nodding towards the stairs.
Going down first, Sven said nothing as I put a hand on his shoulder for extra support, the railing not quite seeming up to the task. The danger was more than worth it. A second door from the below-ground floor revealed a treasure trove.
“Sven, it’s been a while,” said a gentle voice, as a woman appeared from the shadows in greeting.
“Hey, Ana.”
“Oh, my, and who is this cutie?”
It took a second to realize she meant me.
The heat returned to my cheeks when I did.
“My apologies, how silly of me. Anastasia, this is Claudia. Claudia, this is Anastasia, who owns this record store.”
“Claudia from Suspicious Activity records?” she asked.
“Um, yeah?” I asked, not sure how she knew.
“I ordered that crate of Boo Slim LPs, remember?”
“Oh, right, of course. Nice to meet you— or meet you in your own element, I mean.”
I wasn’t just being polite. Now I remembered her coming in to pick up the records, and we’d talked for a while. She did look different here in her own store.
What a coincidence that Sven should know her too. Or, perhaps not, considering they worked in the same industry, more or less. The Seattle music scene in general was not as big as one would think.
“Take your pick,” Sven said, pressing lightly on my back.
Following his orders, I flipped through the titles, and drew out some LPs I might like. Getting a modest pile, I returned to Sven’s side for his review.
The records in my stack included Boo Slim, John Fahey, Joy Division, Jonathan Richman, Loki’s Laugh and First Aid Kit. He approved them all with a nod or smile, sometimes both.
It was good to see him so happy. I’d always aimed to please and dared to hope I might have found someone to whom I could devote myself. It was less a case of love at first sight than friends to lovers, given our previous work association.
I thought about the fact that, based on rumors, anyway, Sven generally avoided people, while I tried too hard to engage. We could be really good for each other.
“Put it on my tab,” Sven said, like he was quoting something from a movie.
“Righto,” Ana confirmed.
“It was so nice to see you again,” I told her, after she’d rung us up but before we’d gone back up the steep staircase leading to street level.
“Same,” she said. “Come back soon!”
“Oh, I will!”
Carrying my records like a proper gent, Sven let the way back up to his car before opening the door for me. I wanted to ask where we were going next, but I was afraid I’d sound like a kid at a carnival. Plus, I doubted he would tell me anyway. Maturity prevailed and I held my tongue, going with wait and see.
“Want to come to my place?” he finally said, as we were driving along.
“Okay.”
I wondered if that meant we would have sex, but I couldn’t assume. The tradition was clear, but Sven was far from traditional. He was the sort of guy for whom “come up and have a spot of tea” might not just be a euphemism.
Once we were in his townhouse, I looked around approvingly at the architecture and decorations.
“This is a nice place,” I told him.
