Afterlife
Page 20
Genevieve raised her delicate eyebrows.
“Well, maybe not everything,” Marcus corrected, smirking. Unintentionally, I wondered if Marcus and Genevieve were more than business acquaintances. If he felt comfortable enough to barge in on one of her private meetings with a customer and she could ask him a question by simply raising her eyebrows, surely there was something else between them. The thought caused an unexpected vise to squeeze my heart, making it throb with an emotion I wasn’t used to: jealousy. Where did that come from?
Looking at the floor, I said, “I’ll wait out front,” and rushed out of the room.
Kat followed me, retreating to a stool behind the checkout counter. As I perused the shop, I could practically feel her laser-like glare piercing my skin.
“Something wrong?” I asked pointedly. I found the small, alabaster Hathor carving again and held it up, examining its exquisite detail. I would’ve guessed it really was over four thousand years old, if any Old Kingdom Egyptian alabaster pieces had ever been carved with so much detail. The goddess’s lithe, feminine body, carved so she was eternally standing with one foot stepping forward, fit perfectly in the palm of my hand. Her exquisite face stared back at me with such determination, I almost expected her to open her mouth and make some godly demand.
Still glaring, Kat grumbled, “Are you, like, going out with him or something?”
It took me a few seconds to shift all of my attention to her. “Am I dating Marcus?” I asked, incredulous.
“Yeah,” Kat said, rolling her eyes and sighing dramatically.
I snorted. “Definitely not. We work together.”
“Oh.” She brightened noticeably, straightening from her slouched position.
I hesitated, worried I wouldn’t be able to conceal my unreasonable jealousy if I asked the question I wanted to ask, but I couldn’t resist. “Your mom seems to have a, uh, connection with him. Is there something between them?”
Giggling, Kat hopped off her stool and skipped around the counter to join me. She was built like her mom—curves everywhere they should be—just not quite so filled out. If it weren’t for her outfit, she easily could have passed as an undergrad. As it was, her white, neon-splashed t-shirt, black skinny jeans, and bright green Chucks placed her in high school, maybe as a junior or senior. Her long, nearly black hair was twisted up into a high, messy bun, and the multiple piercings in her ears were filled with a variety of gemstone studs.
“No,” she whispered, “but Mom totally wishes there was. I mean, damn, who wouldn’t? He’s totally, like, the hottest guy I’ve ever seen . . . ever. It doesn’t even matter that he’s so old.”
I laughed—I couldn’t help it. There was no way Marcus was beyond his mid-thirties, but to a teen, I knew that could seem ancient.
“How much is this?” I asked, holding up the carving. I’d come to the highly improbable conclusion that the little goddess wasn’t a reproduction, but was actually the real deal. What she was doing in the shop, on a table of artful junk, was beyond me.
Kat bit her glossed lip. “Um . . . that’s one of the special items. I have to ask my mom.” So it really is authentic . . . I knew it!
“Ask me what?” Genevieve asked, her rich voice startling us both as she walked through the beaded curtain and joined us in the front of the shop. I was surprised Marcus hadn’t followed her out. Maybe he’s busy buttoning his pants, I thought snidely. And then I mentally slapped myself. Not mine . . . off-limits . . . get a goddamn grip!
“The cost of this statuette,” I explained, holding up the small carving for her to see.
Genevieve pursed her lips and squinted before coming to a decision. “Take it, no cost.”
Kat’s mouth fell open. “But . . . Mom—”
A firm hand gesture from her mother quieted the teenager. “Consider it an apology gift, since I can’t give you the information you seek. It seems to want to be with you anyway. It’s fitting.”
By the time Marcus emerged from the back room, my newly acquired artifact was wrapped in a soft, pale green cloth, fitted into a gift box, and tucked into a small, dark purple bag.
“Thank you,” I said to Kat and Genevieve, briefly raising the little paper sack.
“Of course,” the mother replied while her daughter ogled Marcus.
He approached me, amusement tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Did you purchase something? Perhaps a good luck charm . . . or a love potion?”
“Not exactly,” I replied coyly. “I’ll show you later . . . maybe.” My nonchalance was all a bluff—there was no way I could withstand bragging about my little Hathor carving, but I could drag it out for a little while . . . make him wait.
What had been only a hint of a smile turned into a full-blown grin. “Ah, Lex, I am so looking forward to the coming year.”
I blinked. That most certainly had not been the reaction I’d expected.
Before I could respond, Marcus turned to Genevieve and her daughter. “A pleasure, as always. Genevieve, Katarina.” He gave each a slight nod and placed his hand against the small of my back, ushering me toward the door. Even through my pea coat and sweater, the contact felt extremely intimate.
“Goodbye! It was nice to meet you both!” I called over my shoulder.
“And you,” Genevieve said. Oddly, she sounded relieved.
***
I hope you enjoyed this excerpt from Echo in Time (Echo Trilogy, #1). The full book is available on Amazon, as are the other novels and novellas in the Echo Trilogy.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Lindsey Fairleigh lives her life with one foot in a book--as long as that book transports her to a magical world or bends the rules of science. Her novels, from post-apocalyptic to time travel and historical fantasy, always offer up a hearty dose of unreality, along with plenty of adventure and romance. When she's not working on her next novel, Lindsey spends her time walking around the foothills surrounding her home, planning her future farm, and trying out new recipes in the kitchen. She lives in the Pacific Northwest with her husband and her four furry writing assistants, cats Eva and Leo and dogs Tila and Tesla. www.lindseyfairleigh.com