The rain outside pattered harder than she'd expected on the roof of the little hipster hole her friend had suggested was a coffee shop. Allison leaned back against a large, over-stuffed cushion that was supposed to make her rickety wooden chair more comfortable and contemplated the rain. Pillow, the coffee shop in which she was sitting, had an aluminum roof that magnified each and every raindrop, turning the lightest drizzle into a symphony of water. Of course, nobody else seemed to have even a moment to spare for the constant precipitation. That's Portland for you.
"I hope you weren't waiting too long," Emil said as he sat down across from Allison. He was desperately hoping that their coffee meeting was going to be short. He had a deadline that was looming and, thus far, he'd been quite good at ignoring it.
"Maybe ten minutes," she conceded and automatically reached for the hand-thrown coffee cup that was sitting in front of her. It was full of tea. Allison didn't like coffee. She'd noticed that this dislike was another thing that set her so firmly apart from the others in the room.
"What did you want me to do for you, anyway, Allison? You said it was urgent."
It took a moment or so for the young woman to snap back. She'd been once more distracted by the drumming of droplets on the roof. They seemed to be keeping some kind of time or beat all their own. Like the percussion section in a band. "I'm sorry, Emil. What was that?"
"Allison, sweetheart." Emil ungentlemanly placed his elbows on the table and leaned across to look at her. "Are you sure you're okay?"
She nodded and smiled, once she remembered that it was expected of her. "I'm fine. Actually, I'm glad I ran into you."
Emil leaned back and tried not to roll his eyes at her oddity. "You didn't, love. You asked me to meet you."
"Well, either way," she said with a shrug. Allison pulled a small, spiral-bound notebook from a large, quilted purse and flipped quickly through pages. "I'm looking for some information on someone."
"Information you intend to use for good or evil?"
"Pardon?"
"Not important. Who is the information about?"
"Whom," she corrected quietly before handing Emil the page. "She's a nurse or something up at the hospital. Marianne Poole." Allison's book included some very basic basics and a brief sketch.
"I hope you weren't waiting too long," Emil said as he sat down across from Allison. He was desperately hoping that their coffee meeting was going to be short. He had a deadline that was looming and, thus far, he'd been quite good at ignoring it.
"Maybe ten minutes," she conceded and automatically reached for the hand-thrown coffee cup that was sitting in front of her. It was full of tea. Allison didn't like coffee. She'd noticed that this dislike was another thing that set her so firmly apart from the others in the room.
"What did you want me to do for you, anyway, Allison? You said it was urgent."
It took a moment or so for the young woman to snap back. She'd been once more distracted by the drumming of droplets on the roof. They seemed to be keeping some kind of time or beat all their own. Like the percussion section in a band. "I'm sorry, Emil. What was that?"
"Allison, sweetheart." Emil ungentlemanly placed his elbows on the table and leaned across to look at her. "Are you sure you're okay?"
She nodded and smiled, once she remembered that it was expected of her. "I'm fine. Actually, I'm glad I ran into you."
Emil leaned back and tried not to roll his eyes at her oddity. "You didn't, love. You asked me to meet you."
"Well, either way," she said with a shrug. Allison pulled a small, spiral-bound notebook from a large, quilted purse and flipped quickly through pages. "I'm looking for some information on someone."
"Information you intend to use for good or evil?"
"Pardon?"
"Not important. Who is the information about?"
"Whom," she corrected quietly before handing Emil the page. "She's a nurse or something up at the hospital. Marianne Poole." Allison's book included some very basic basics and a brief sketch.
