Date check: still February 1st

Nicole took only a few seconds to process the deal being offered by a stranger in the woods. "You want tomorrow. That's it, that's all you want for the millions in that box of yours. Sure, take it. Take two days."

"One," the guy replied. "I'm not greedy. When the day is over I guarantee you'll have what you want."

Nicole was about to salute her new cowboy friend when the music stopped abruptly, the fire extinguishing itself, the fairy lights fading in the trees. The guy too had vanished, although the cool box still sat beside an old, rusty chair where he had offered her an insane amount of money on the condition she gave him twenty-four hours.

To Nicole it didn't matter what she was actually bargaining, the prospect of obtaining such a substantial sum of money keeping her from seeing sense. One day, she thought, not a bad deal, as her hand lifted the lid on the cool box only to find it empty apart from a small card at the bottom, the name "Demetri" in swirly-gold letters across the middle. Turning it over more words were written in gold, along with a phone number:

Offer accepted. Call me February 3rd to collect.

Taking a few swigs of the free beer still in her hand she placed the bottle by the stump, making her way back to civilization. She no longer had an appetite for the burger that started this whole thing, returning to her room, Demetri's calling card shoved in the pocket of her coat for safe keeping.

Waverly was still in Shorty's, thankful her encounter with her sister had been tame. At least she had left before bottles were thrown, the highlight of Wynonna's more rowdy outings. A bar packed with strangers would not have stopped her, Waverly consoling herself her family hadn't shown itself up in front of one of her co-workers. 

Dolls took the seat vacated, two open beers placed before them. "So you work in the big city," Gus said, her cloth out wiping the counter as she spoke. "Ain't been."

"Not so big if you're from New York."

"Like I said, ain't been."

"You should come visit," Waverly offered.

"When I can get someone for here."

"Wynonna would help out."

Her aunt stopped wiping. "She ain't like you."

Dolls waited for Gus to move off. "Guessing you know the pool champ."

"My sister Wynonna. Don't put money on the table."

"So, what's it like growing up in a town like this?"

Waverly stared at the bottle now in her hands. "Not like New York, that's for sure."

"I'd have loved to have lived here," Dolls continued. "Looks homely and safe."

"Right, homely and safe. Looks can be deceiving."

"I get the feeling you were ready to leave."

"This place...it's different."

Dolls pushed the bottle away. "Best not. Early start tomorrow. I'm heading back with that wine order for the star."

Leaving a full beer Waverly was beginning to think she needed to change her deodorant, or maybe her social skills. Not one for giving too much information away, especially coming from a family like hers, she had been honest with Nicole when she said it took time for her to get to know those who entered her circle. It also took time for her to open up, needing more from the other person, so much more, before she could trust them enough to give of herself.

Dolls knocked on Nicole's door a second time, whispering in case he disturbed the other guests on her floor. "Nicole, it's Dolls. Brought you the wine."

There was no response, tapping again, trying the door handle. Placing the bottle on the floor, he tapped again. "I'll leave it here," his ear pressed against the door. "Nicole, I'm leaving it by the door, okay."

Making his way to his room he now regretted leaving the bottle in full view of everyone passing Nicole's, tempted to return and remove it. He decided to go with his first action, hoping the presence of the wine would placate her. Even if it didn't, he had done what she asked. Nicole was already asleep, earplugs in, eye mask on, two sleeping pills for good measure.

The radio alarm clock woke her at six, reaching over to try to stop the unwelcome noise entering her skull. The same song was playing as the one in the woods, now with two guys talking over the music much to her annoyance, welcoming everyone to Purgatory for the festival. Lifting her mask, squinting as light hit her eyes, it took a moment to work out where she was, what day it was, removing the earplugs, hauling her legs over the side of the bed.

Sitting for a moment to listen to the music, she recalled her strange meeting with a strange guy in the woods the night before, finally considering what it entailed giving him one day of her life. This day, she had agreed to give him today, looking around her room, trying to figure out what precisely she had given. So far, so good, she thought, nothing out of the ordinary. I'm still here, the room's still awful, everything's as it should be. And, I'll be so fucking rich by tomorrow. I win.

It didn't take long for her mood to crash. Staring at her reflection in the mirror, she knew she would need a decent layer of make-up to hide what time was doing to her face, making a mental note to book up several facial treatments when back in Pittsburgh, maybe look into surgery. The water was freezing, the shower curtain moldy at the bottom, the towels threadbare, her mood reaching its nadir on seeing the full bottle of wine outside her door. Cursing, she placed it on the old-fashioned dresser just inside the room, ready to have strong words with Dolls when she saw him.

He was already seated at the table nearest the window, which provided the only light in an otherwise dark room, others readying themselves with hearty breakfasts in preparation for the festivities ahead. "I look like an alcoholic," she hissed, as she sat opposite. "It'll be in all the papers by noon."

Dolls looked up from his plate of meats and cheeses. "Already headlining in the New York Times. Relax, this is Purgatory."

"You know, this was not my idea. You being here. The station manager agreed with me. Only talent."

Dolls was glad he didn't have a mouthful of food. "It's only for one night. Besides, where else is available this time of year?"

"Well, I won't have to worry after this year," Nicole said, nodding at the young woman asking if she wanted coffee. "I'll be at the new network where they don't interview rats on the weather."

"Right. You'll miss me though."

"Oh sure. You can be my guest at the awards ceremony. When I win."

"Shorty's was fun. You should drop by before we head out."

"There's a blizzard heading this way. I'm not staying any longer than I need to in this backwater hole someone calls home."

"Waverly. These are her people."

"Figures. Miss Smallsville. Do you get the feeling she's not ready for life in the wider world?"

"She's dedicated," Dolls countered. "She's new, I agree, needs to learn how it all works. But, she's intelligent and has talent. I think she'll do well."

"She relies on a rat to tell her the weather," Nicole teased. "Small town mentality."

Dolls returned his attention to the plate before him. "You don't know her."

Nicole's mood lifted a little through being able to get under Dolls' skin. She liked him, well tolerated him, the best of a bad bunch, cameramen according to her notoriously lazy, doing just enough to get the job done, no more. Dolls was different, worked hard to get the best shots, even for her, and she appreciated that, even if she wouldn't come straight out and say it to his face. To her credit, she had mentioned it to the station manager, asking for Dolls whenever they had to do an outside broadcast, letting his talent make hers look even better. She was nothing if not astute to those who could make her look amazing in torrential rain.

Waverly was already at the site where Purgatory Pete would make his annual appearance, a bag of freshly baked donuts in her hand. She was deep in conversation with a woman as they approached, Nicole immediately noticing the woman's eyes drinking her in. "Mercedes these are my colleagues."

"Wow, the one and only Nicole Haught," Mercedes said, holding out her hand.

"The one and only," Nicole replied, shaking it.

"I've not been around much. First time in years. Would have come had I known you were on the menu."

"I'm dessert," Nicole replied, watching for a reaction in Waverly, pleased when she saw it.

"I'm staying at my parent's house," Mercedes continued. "We're throwing a party later, you must come."

"For you, anytime," Nicole said. "Say, where's the best place to buy roses?"

"Nancy's," Waverly offered. "She has the best in town."

"Nonsense," Mercedes countered. "My sister Beth can give what you need."

"And, there's me thinking it was you," Nicole replied, licking her bottom lip.

"I've got us a good position," Dolls interrupted, Waverly's mouth still open at the conversation in which she now found herself a mere bystander. "We're next to the stage."

"Why didn't you ask me?" Waverly said, breaking out of her sudden crush on her co-worker. "I could have secured us the best spot. That's why I'm here."

"Trust me," Dolls replied. "After covering this for the last three years my spot works for Nicole."

The three made their way to where Dolls suggested, Waverly agreeing it was the best, giving Nicole prime position to report on Purgatory Pete. Taking Nicole's scarf and gloves, Waverly straightened Nicole's collar which had risen, Dolls handing Nicole the mic for her to do her thing. And, oh boy did she.

"Okay, on me. On three, two, one. Once a year, the eyes of the nation turn to this tiny hamlet to watch a master at work. The master, Purgatory Pete, the world's most famous weatherman, who legend has it can predict the coming of an early spring. So, the question we have to ask ourselves is, does Pete feel lucky?"

Waverly had her thumbs up to let Nicole know she was good with that take. Dolls moved his camera to focus on the stage where a guy was already banging on a small wooden door to alert Pete to his presence. Not that Pete wasn't already aware, the overfed rodent knowing this day was different from the others, cowering in fear at the back of his makeshift accommodation before being pulled out by gloved hands to predict something for which he had no qualifications to do so.

A second guy pronounced there would be six more weeks of winter. Boos and shouts went up from the crowd, Nicole hiding a smirk as she readied herself to resume her piece. "On me. Three, two, one. This is one time television fails to capture the true excitement of a large squirrel predicting the weather. I for one am very grateful to have been here. From Purgatory, this is Nicole Haught, so long."

Waverly took the mic from Nicole. "Can we try that again without the sarcasm?"

Nicole's expression told her that was a no. "We got it," Dolls offered, the pair watching as Nicole sauntered off to find Mercedes. "She's fucking with us that's all."

"How does she get away with this?" Waverly asked, handing the mic to Dolls. "She's supposed to be a professional."

"She sees us little folk as being in her way," Dolls replied. "It would kill her to think she's one of us."

"I'm tired of this. She needs to do her job. That's what she's paid for. It'll look bad on us."

"Trust me," Dolls reassured, "it won't. The station knows what she's like."

Their van pulled out of Purgatory late morning, the sky already an ominous grey forewarning of snow. Reaching the tunnel on route to Pittsburgh the road had become impassable, highway patrol turning back all those foolish enough to have chosen to venture out in such extreme conditions. Whatever patience Nicole had left vanished as she exited the van, minus her coat, standing shivering in front of a highway patrol guy telling him she needed to be back in Pittsburgh that afternoon.

"I don't care who you are," the guy replied. "This road is closed. Go back to where you came from."

"Which is Pittsburgh," Nicole insisted. "Look, I know you're only doing your job. But, I'm needed back in Pittsburgh. Can you at least let us through?"

"Ma'am, I wouldn't be doing my job if I let you continue. Go back to where you were, and stay there."

Nicole returned to the van, shivering. "A couple of hours. We return to Purgatory and try again when this clears."

"It's in for the rest of the day," Waverly advised. "I've seen this before."

"Who's the weather expert here?" Nicole snapped. "A couple of hours, tops, and this will move on."

It was left to Dolls to decide. "I'm going with Waverly. She knows these parts better than we do."

"I'll check if the guesthouse still has rooms," Waverly added. "If not, I have friends you can stay with till this moves on."

"Oh, please," Nicole replied, "anywhere, but that lousy place. Check if the main hotel has rooms, with decent hot water, and an espresso machine. Oh, and a fucking bar."

"There's no need to be rude," Waverly replied, already onto the place. "Hi, yes, sorry, we need a room for two for tonight."

"I'm not sharing with Dolls."

"No, sorry. Do you have two rooms for tonight? Yes, Nicole Haught and Xavier Dolls. Yes, same guests. Yes, one more night. Great. Thank you."

"Guessing I'm back where I started," Nicole said, as Waverly finished her call.

"You know, you should feel lucky to get somewhere given this weather."

"Oh, I'm feeling lucky," Nicole teased. "You could come see where you've put me for yet another night. Keep me from taking up knitting."

"Knitting's not such a bad thing," Waverly offered. "Everyone needs a scarf."

They made it back to Purgatory just before the snow, decamping at Shorty's for a few hours, Nicole's contempt at having been forced to remain in the town on full display. She managed to be polite to Gus, signing a headshot for her, much to Gus' amusement. Waverly's attention went to the entrance every time someone came in, hoping it wouldn't be her sister, the prospect of Nicole and Wynonna being in the same space given Nicole's current mood not one she wanted to witness.

By six Nicole had had enough, declining the offer to attend the party Mercedes was throwing, asking Dolls to drive her back to the guesthouse, much to Waverly's relief. Dolls said he would return once showered and changed, neither insisting Nicole should join them, tired of having to pander to the prima donna in their presence. 

Entering her room, opening the bottle of wine Dolls left, Nicole sent a text to Shae to tell her the good news about the network station who wanted her, receiving no reply, about to send another to tell her about the stranger in the woods.

As she began to type she remembered the card in her coat, wondering if she should try the number, see if anyone answered. Nothing unusual had happened that day, other than being stuck somewhere she didn't want to be stuck for another night, glad to have packed enough to get through a second day. Retrieving the card she stared at it. It now showed a photo of a diner, the one she was sure she had passed that morning, with the name Frank's above the door, not far from Shorty's. On the reverse were the words 'February 2nd' written in gold ink, Nicole having no idea why this particular card was now in her possession.

No phone number to call, no mention of Demetri, she suddenly had a sinking feeling of having been duped. The date on the reverse in gold was her only consolation, knowing she had but a few hours left before February Third arrived. Placing the card beside the radio alarm clock, she readied herself for bed, annoyed at not having brought a book to read to wait out the few hours left before she became wealthy, resigning herself to googling the new TV station where she hoped to work. Max's ruddy face appeared, reading the profile on his career, no mention of any affair with the latest intern, obviously. Oh how she wanted what he had, everything and more, so others would see how great she was without having to sell herself constantly.