“Have you ever met somebody...” Her voice trailed off as she looked for the right words.
“I’ve met several people, believe it or not.”
“Ha ha. You’re hilarious.” Kelsey pushed playfully at her. “No, I mean, have you ever met somebody you found so immediately attractive and so intensely attractive that you felt like the world stopped around you?”
Ree faced her then, and Kelsey took another sip of the heatstroke-inducing coffee just to do something with her hands. “That’s how it was when I met DJ,” Ree said kindly.
Kelsey met her gaze, saw the softening in her light eyes. “Yeah?”
“Definitely.” Ree turned back to the game, but kept talking. “I’d been dating on and off. A handful of women, but nobody really clicked. You know? I liked most of them quite a bit, but that...spark? Not there. When I met her, though?” With a jerk of her chin, she indicated her spouse, who was now on second base. “It was like I was suddenly under water.” She turned to Kelsey, her eye contact penetrating. “You know what I mean? Like, I could still hear stuff, but it was muffled. Muted. There was nothing but her.” The smile that broke out then was so tender and loving that, had she not started the conversation herself, Kelsey would have felt like she was intruding on something very personal.
“Wow.” It was all she could think of to say.
Ree flushed a pretty pink. “Yeah.” She nodded, returned her focus to the field. “So, I totally get what you’re talking about. Why?”
Kelsey shook her head with a shrug. “No reason. Just curious.”
Ree studied her, knew she was lying, but thankfully didn’t push. She simply ended the conversation with, “Believe me, it doesn’t happen often. We should all take note when it does.”
The batter hit a pop fly then, which was caught and effectively ended the game.
“Thank God,” Kelsey muttered as she rubbed the small of her back, and Ree chuckled in agreement. They collected their things, as did the rest of the spectators, and made their way down to the players.
“Hey, you.” Hannah Keene wore a huge smile on her face, showing off a mouth full of artificially straightened teeth and a dimple on her chin. Her unique green eyes sparkled, as they always seemed to when she was around Kelsey, and she ran a hand through her short brown hair, scratched at her scalp. Face glistening with perspiration, she reached out and wrapped an arm around Kelsey’s shoulders, gave her a squeeze. “I’m so glad you’re here. Would have been nice to win for you.”
“You played well,” Kelsey said.
“They played better.”
“That happens sometimes.”
Kelsey said hello to several of Hannah’s teammates, waved here, nodded there, smiled and laughed and congratulated. It was a really nice group of people that Kelsey was slowly getting to know. When she’d decided to make the move nearly nine hundred miles from home, it hadn’t occurred to her that making friends in her thirties might not be as easy as it had been when she was in college. It took much more effort, first of all. Because she didn’t work in an office setting, she didn’t find herself surrounded by new people, possible friends. And because she was the boss at her shop, she wasn’t comfortable hanging with her employees during personal time. That felt somehow inappropriate. So she’d had to do some creative research and come up with her own way of finding like-minded people. Thank God for the Internet. She’d found Lesbian Link-Ups. She’d found the softball league. She’d found Hannah.
Half an hour later, Kelsey sat at a round table in Point Blank, the local bar that sponsored Hannah’s team. Ree sat on her left and a woman named Barb was on her right. Barb was a big girl. Not fat, just big. Broad shoulders, huge hands and feet, and a frame that had to surpass six feet. Her wife was Carla, the team’s pitcher, and she came to every game just like Ree did. As she settled herself into her chair, she gave Kelsey’s shoulder a squeeze. Kelsey smelled the scent of sandalwood that always seemed to accompany Barb.
“Hey there, Kels. How’s life as a small business owner in the suburbs of Chicago?”
Kelsey grinned, as Barb asked her the exact same question every time they saw each other. It was a running joke now. “Not bad, Barb. I’m surviving.” That was about all she was doing, but she wasn’t close enough to Barb to get into such specifics, so she simply smiled.
As if choreographed, three drinks were set in front of the three of them all at once. A beer for Ree, a club soda for Barb, and a glass of white wine for Kelsey. The three of them thanked their suppliers all at once: DJ, Carla, and Hannah. Kelsey felt Hannah’s hand brush the back of her head as she headed toward the pool table to take on one of her teammates.
“You sure you two aren’t a couple?” Ree teased.
“I’m sure,” Kelsey replied, not for the first time.
“Maybe you need to tell Hannah that,” Barb commented before squeezing the wedge of lime into her club soda.
“Oh, I have. Believe me.” This subject made Kelsey a little uncomfortable, despite the fact that it wasn’t the first time it had been broached. These were Hannah’s friends. They’d known her a long time, much longer than they’d known Kelsey or than Kelsey had known Hannah. They wanted her to be happy and Kelsey understood that, but she always felt like she had to tread carefully.
“Hey, Kels.” Hannah’s voice rang out from across the small bar. “Come over here and be my good luck charm.” She was bent over the pool table, cue in hand, looking over her shoulder at Kelsey. “I can’t make this shot without a little help.”
Kelsey bit down on her bottom lip as Barb sipped her club soda and hummed an, “Mm-hmm,” quietly.
The other six people around the pool table were looking her way, and the last thing Kelsey wanted to do was embarrass Hannah in front of her softball buddies, so she sighed softly and pushed her chair back from the table. Wine in hand—she was going to need it—she walked over to the pool table, trying not to notice the obvious happiness that colored Hannah’s expression as she struck with the cue and sank the intended ball. A combination of cheers and groans went up around the table as Hannah stood, grabbed Kelsey, and kissed her on the cheek. Her usual scent was musky and Kelsey got a big dose of it with Hannah so close.
“Thank you, sweetheart,” Hannah said.
“I didn’t do anything,” Kelsey replied, trying to downplay with a shrug. “I just stood here.” She took a sip of her wine. Hannah’s grin was lopsided and happy. And sweet and adorable, Kelsey had to admit.
“You’re here,” Hannah said, the grin hanging on. “That’s all I need.”
CHAPTER TWO
FRIDAYS TENDED TO BE good, business-wise. People took the day off for a long weekend or they took half the day and came in to shop on their lunch hour, knowing they didn’t have to go back to work. Plus, Friday was a good day. People were happy on Fridays, and happy people spent more money.
Kelsey sat in the back in her office doing paperwork. The end of July was around the corner and that’s when most of the bills were due. She’d put in her orders now, but she’d get billed for them within the next two weeks. Most of the invoices were Net 30, meaning she had thirty days to pay. Finally. Establishing credit took time, and even though she’d run a similar shop back home in Charlotte, it had been one shop in a large company of shops and the credit wasn’t based solely on her. Here in Westland, it was.
A glance at the security monitors on her screen told her there were five customers milling about. Jeanine was helping one, talking animatedly with her hands as she did, and Kelsey smiled fondly. She’d specifically picked Westland. She’d needed a change. She’d been to Chicago on several occasions for long weekends and a business trip or two and liked it very much. Research told her Westland was an up-and-coming suburb and that, despite the currently high cost associated with renting a business location, costs would come down over the next few years. It had taken a ton of studying, some gloves-off business talk with her father, the corporate businessman, and a very big small business loan that still ma
de her nervous. But she’d finally found a spot and been able to open Common Scents.
She liked it here.
The town was charming. The people were nice. She wasn’t sure she was ready for the winter, but she was trying to think of it as an adventure. Her small apartment was less than five miles away, and she was getting to know some of the local residents.
Slowly but surely.
Her computer beeped an incoming e-mail. A supplier letting her in on a new scent of lotion that sounded promising. A new blend of their pumpkin spice. As Kelsey realized she’d have to get ready for fall scents, a glance at the monitor told her Jeanine was still helping a customer and there was another waiting at the counter. She made her way out on the floor to ring out.
A few minutes later, as the third person took her bag from Kelsey with a grateful smile, Hannah popped into view.
“Hey there,” she said with a grin. No matter what, she always seemed happy. That was one of the things Kelsey liked most about her.
“Is it colorful balloon day?” Kelsey said, with a nod to the balloon-covered scrub shirt Hannah wore with her navy pants. “Nobody told me.”
“One of the many joys of working in a pediatrician’s office,” Hannah said. “Teddy bear day is the best, though.”
“I bet.” Kelsey leaned on the counter. “What brings you by?”
“I thought I’d take you to lunch with me.” Hannah’s green eyes sparkled. “I only have forty-five minutes, so I’m going to my usual haunt and thought maybe you’d keep me company.”
Hannah’s “usual haunt” was Marco’s Deli, which just so happened to be down the mall a bit from Common Scents and had the best broccoli and cheese soup Kelsey had ever tasted. They also made amazing sandwiches. Kelsey would go once or twice a week. It was that good.
“Looked like you had a nice handful of customers in there when I stopped by,” Hannah said later, taking a big bite of her ham and Swiss. “That’s good, yes?”
Kelsey nodded, spooned in some soup, chewed. “It is. I’d like it to be busier. I’m thinking of running another sale soon, try to bring in more people.”
Hannah shook her head. “I don’t know how you do it. I couldn’t deal with people all day.”
Kelsey gave a snort. “You do deal with people all day.”
“Yeah, but they’re patients, not customers. The phrase isn’t ‘the patient is always right.’”
“True.”
“You actually like people. I can’t stand them.”
“I don’t believe that,” Kelsey said with a chuckle. “I’ve seen you around people lots of times.”
“People I like, yes. Not strangers. Not crowds. I’d much rather be with a small group of people I know than a large group at a party or something.” She chewed as she gazed out the window at the comings and goings in the parking lot. Turning back to Kelsey, she said, “I only have a small handful of people I consider close to me, but those people mean a lot.”
Kelsey smiled. “My mom’s like you.”
“Well, your mom is obviously awesome.”
“She is. I miss her.” The last line was said more wistfully than Kelsey had intended, but Hannah picked up on it.
“Yeah, you’re kind of far from home, aren’t you?”
“Kind of.”
“How come? You’ve never told me.” Hannah chewed and watched Kelsey with those intense green eyes.
Kelsey shrugged. “I needed to get away.”
Hannah stopped chewing and gave her a look. “Really? That’s all you’re going to give me? Away from what?”
Kelsey grimaced. “My ex?”
Hannah immediately squealed like a delighted small child. “I knew you had layers, Peterson. I knew it. Details, please.”
With a glance at her watch, Kelsey arched an eyebrow evilly. “Sorry, Charlie, you have to get back to work.”
“No!” Hannah grabbed Kelsey’s wrist and turned it so she could read the time. “Damn it!” She crumpled up the paper from her lunch, finished her water, then said, “Don’t think I’m not going to follow up on this later.” She pointed a finger at Kelsey. “I want all the juicy dirt.”
Kelsey couldn’t help but laugh at the excitement her friend exhibited. “It’s really not all that juicy, I promise.”
“Still.” They stood up at the same time. “Drinks tomorrow at Boomer’s?”
“I’m at the shop all day tomorrow.”
“After that.” One corner of Hannah’s mouth quirked up. “You’ll be ready for a drink after twelve hours at work.”
Kelsey nodded. “That is true. Okay. I’ll meet you there at nine thirty?”
“Perfect.” Hannah gave her a kiss on the cheek once they hit the sidewalk and parted ways, Hannah toward her car and Kelsey back to the shop. “See you tomorrow.” Hannah waved.
Kelsey was surprised to find she was actually looking forward to the next night. She hadn’t really shared much personal detail with Hannah since they’d met. She’d mostly stuck to superficial or work-oriented things, though she wasn’t sure why. She’d kept her issues with Janice, her ex, buried pretty deep.
Maybe it was time to open up a little bit.
***
Saturday morning had been slow, but the afternoon picked up, and by three, Common Scents was fairly full of customers smelling, spraying, and rubbing lotion on their hands. The new Salt Air body spray was a hit, and Kelsey had to break into the spare box in the back room to restock the shelf. As she did so, a customer next to her was spraying fragrances into the air, then sticking her face into the mist to smell. When she caught Kelsey’s eye, she made a sheepish expression and said, “I can’t decide.”
“Maybe I can help.” Kelsey set the box on the floor and stood next to the woman, who was in her late forties and dressed in denim capris and a navy-and-white-striped top. She studied her, squinted, inhaled quietly. “You seem a bit floral to me. More nature scented.” Kelsey moved down the aisle about two feet and pulled a Spring Lilac body spray tester off the shelf. She sprayed it into the air, smelled it herself, then gave one nod. “Try this one.”
The woman did as Kelsey had, and her eyes widened. “Wow. I love that.” She repeated the gesture, sniffed again, and smiled. “That’s the one. Thank you!”
“You’re very welcome.” Kelsey smiled and emptied the box of the last four bottles when Jeremy came up to her.
“There’s a woman here to see you,” he said quietly near her ear.
Kelsey followed his gaze to the counter where a heavyset woman stood looking out of place and irritated about it. “I’ll be right there.”
Managing to avoid eye contact with a handful of customers as she walked by, Kelsey returned the box to behind the counter, then turned to the woman, whose brown hair had a prominent line of gray along her part. Her face was slightly pinched, like she’d just seen something unpleasant, and she smelled strongly of cigarettes. “How can I help you?”
“I’m Betsy Siegler.” She stated it as fact—which Kelsey assumed it was—but also as something Kelsey maybe should have known already. She did not offer her hand.
“I’m sorry, do I know you?”
Betsy Siegler sighed loudly. “My mother owns this building. She’s your landlady.”
“Oh! Of course.” How Kelsey was expected to know that Martha Jenkins had a daughter named Betsy Siegler, she had no idea, but she did her best to remain friendly and open. “Let’s go into my office so we have some privacy,” she suggested, gesturing for the woman to follow her. Mostly, she wanted to free up the space for the customers who’d begun to stack up. Once in the small room, Kelsey indicated the seat in front of the desk and she took the one behind it. “How can I help? Is Mrs. Jenkins all right?”
“Well, she’s ninety-three,” Betsy said with a snort, as if that explained everything.
“Okay.” Kelsey raised her eyebrows in expectation.
“She’s going into a nursing home.” The sentence was blurted in an almost disgusted tone, as if it was Mart
ha Jenkins’s failure that she couldn’t live alone at ninety-three years old.
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Yeah, well. It’s been a long time coming.”
It had only been a couple months since Kelsey had seen her landlady and she’d seemed fairly coherent then. The rent was paid through an agency, so Kelsey didn’t have much need to see Mrs. Jenkins in person, but it hadn’t seemed like it was “a long time coming” for her to go into a home. Somehow, though, she was pretty sure Betsy Siegler wouldn’t appreciate being contradicted. “And what can I do to help you, Mrs. Siegler?”
“I’ll need to be raising your rent,” she blurted.
And there it was.
They sat there, the two of them, Betsy Siegler looking satisfied, and Kelsey probably looking as blindsided as she felt. She took a moment to breathe, to get her bearings, to measure her own voice so she wouldn’t yell.
“I have a lease that’s good through next spring.” Kelsey’s voice was calm. Professional. Much to her own surprise.
“Yeah, I know. But if I buy the building and it’s put in my name, that can be changed easily.” So she’d looked into this before dropping her bomb.
“My store’s only been open for two months. Barely. I’m still paying back start-up costs. A rent increase this soon was not something I planned on, Mrs. Siegler. Surely, you can understand that.”
“Of course I can,” Betsy said and picked at something on her pant leg. “But I’m sure you can understand that—not to be blunt—it’s not my problem.”
“Right.” It was about all Kelsey could think of to say. She stood, needing this woman out of her office. Thank God, Betsy got the hint and also stood.
“I don’t know when this will happen, but my lawyer will be in touch.” With that, she turned and left. Again, she didn’t shake Kelsey’s hand. She didn’t wait for her. She just...left.
Kelsey waited until she saw Betsy Siegler on the security monitor heading for the front door before she let herself drop back into her chair. “I can’t afford more rent,” she mumbled out loud to the empty office. “I’m stretched too thin as it is.” She tapped a fingernail on the surface of her desk. “I’ll have to fight it. Can I? Can I fight it? I’d need a lawyer, which I also can’t afford. Oh, for God’s sake.” Dropping her head into her hands, Kelsey willed herself not to cry. There had to be something she could do. She just needed time to think.
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