Rosa looked her guest up and down as he stood awkwardly in the doorway of her family's hotel- her hazel eyes narrowed doubtfully as she muttered in a rather unfriendly manner
"You're not what I was expecting"
The guest just scratched the back of his dark mob of hair and then as his piercing blue eyes locked onto hers he replied
"Well Considering my line of work I'll take that as a complement"
He had a quiet, pleasant sort of voice; it reminded Rosie of the sound of wind whispering through the corn fields in the dead of night. It was soft but with a strange sort of confidence which suited his dry statement- Rosa with a smirk just murmured
"Touché"
Then at that moment two young woman who had been staying at the hotel during their weekend of parties and shopping came trotting down its narrow staircase, talking loudly about how they would never return. The new guest swiftly stepped out of the doorway allowing them to pass. Not even flitching as one laughed "Darling look this hotel is so dreadful it even comes equipped with a country bumpkin!" They then both howled with laughter before disappearing into the busy streets of San Francisco, their dresses sparkling under the street lights.
Rosa stared apologetically at her guest, who gave her a sad sort of smile in return, but it was more of a look of pity for the two ignorant woman who had just past them
"Sorry some of these townies can be so difficult...if they knew who you were I'm sure they'd have been far more polite"
"I know, they probably would have been too afraid that I'd send my army of ghosts to puncher the tires of their automobiles! Or ruin their gramophone records with satanic messages!"
He replied raising his voice dramatically, whilst putting on a terrible posh, townie accent, Rosa let out a loud unruly laugh when she heard this; she quickly covered her mouth in embarrassment
"Gosh sorry, my laugh is so dreadful... you just surprised me with your humour...I wouldn't of thought a medium would of been so amusing"
She muttered trying to conceal a snort of laughter with a handkerchief, but as she looked up she saw her guests icy blue eyes had warmed greatly as he stared down at her. They looked at each other for a long moment; Rosa couldn't quite work out what the stranger's expression was. Then as the girl slowly lowered her handkerchief from her lips he sighed
"Well us Mediums are not all gypsies and cult-members just remember that"
The guest then picked up his beat-up suit case; every movement he made was remarkably elegant, Rosa watched him curiously from the corner of her eye as he ran his free hands fingers through his thick dark hair. The guest noticed her watching him, which made her turn away quickly and virtually cry out in her flustered voice
"Well! If you would follow me to the desk I'll check you in and give you your room key..."
Rosa then led him through the lobby trying to conceal her blushing face, she had no clue why she was reacting this way to someone she'd just met. But her heart had started racing so fast she was afraid it might crack her ribcage.
"You're in room 13, Mr Aickman"
She said trying to seem as professional behind her flushed cheeks, she took the key from a board behind the desk. It seemed like the hotel was virtually empty that weekend, which of course had been arranged by Rosa's Father for this particular guest's arrival.
"Please call me Jonah"
He suddenly said in that quiet calm voice as Rosa handed him the key their finger tips brushing briefly, he then added his tone growing more careful as he piercing eyes gazed into hers
"May I have your name?"
Rosa paused for a moment as though to compose herself, she then shrugged and said cooly a mischievous glint in her dark eyes
"Sure... its Rosa Yeoman, but its best we're only on second name terms when my Fathers about"
Jonahs eyebrows rose in surprise and then with a small smile he nodded his eyes still fixed on he girl.
"Fine by me Rosa; hope to see you real soon"
Jonah said in his heavy accent before he turned away, almost reluctantly to make his way back down the lobby. Rosa watched him curiously from the desk, his swift, graceful footsteps passing silently over the creaking floor boards.