Way Out West

by Blanche Marriott

  Janeen noted the uncertainty of his last word and felt a strange tightness in her chest, the same feeling she got every time her mother asked when she was going to settle down and have some kids. Resisting that biological clock and sticking to her promise to let it tick until she was successful got harder every day. She hated to admit it, but at twenty-eight, she wasn't any closer to success than she'd been at twenty.

  “Is there anything specific you're looking for?”

  “No, not really. Do you have any suggestions?”

  When he finally looked at her straight on, her breath caught in her throat as she stared into the largest, most intense, dark eyes she'd ever seen. The classic bone structure she'd noted earlier was softened by smooth, olive skin, and though his nose was large, it enhanced his good looks rather than detracted from them.

  Her eyes returned magnetically to his, but she quickly diverted them to the door, afraid to expose her unsettled feelings. The sentry outside still manned his station.

  “I, uh, suppose jewelry is always a safe bet.” Although her stumbling words betrayed her, she tried not to look nervous.

  “I suppose.” He looked down at the glass case. “Can you show me something?”

  Picking up her keys, she walked over to the jewelry case and brought out a black velvet tray. “What about a pair of titanium earrings?” Without thinking, she shifted into her sales-pitch mode. “A special chemical process brings out the brilliant pinks, purples and blues which make them so striking.”

  He gave the jewelry a quick look and shrugged. “She probably has more earrings than she knows what to do with.” He ambled over to the next display, his steps slow, almost timed.

  After returning the tray to its bed, Janeen relaxed a little, relinquishing her earlier fear of danger. If he was going to rob her, he would have made his move by now.

  So why the gorilla at the door?

  The man stopped at a tray of scarves. Janeen admired the straight line of his broad shoulders under his gray coat and imagined a well toned body underneath.

  As she followed him, she picked up the trailing scent of a sweet cologne that reminded her of the mint cloves in her mother's garden. No doubt it was expensive, as were his clothes. With his gloved hands clasped behind his back, he bent at the waist to inspect the delicate, colorful accessories.

  “Those are hand-painted silk scarves. Does she like scarves?” Doing her best to be helpful, Janeen reasoned if he had money to spend, her job was to help him spend it.

  “I don't know.” He moved the cuff of his sleeve aside to peek at his gold watch.

  “A scarf adds a dash of elegance to the simplest outfit.”

  “Knowing me, I'd pick the wrong color,” he answered helplessly. Quite a contrast to his strong looks.

  “Well, what colors does she usually wear?”

  “I'm not sure.”

  This man is hopeless! He was about to marry a woman he knew nothing about. If he had so little insight into what she might like, maybe Janeen should just push him in the direction of some heavier price tags. He certainly could afford it, or so it appeared, and she couldn't afford not to try.

  “It sounds like you need something different, something not everyone has.”

  He faced her, arching a black eyebrow, “Such as?”

  Again, she was startled by those dark eyes, so penetrating. This time she noted a hint of sadness, but it quickly vanished with a blink of his heavy lashes.

  Janeen moved to an adjacent display case while sorting through her keys. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his dark form following her and she told herself to remain calm. He was a customer. Her job was to make a sale, a sizable one if possible. Unlocking the display door, she removed a stained glass cylinder from a wooden cradle.

  “What about a kaleidoscope?”

  He drew his thick eyebrows together as though surprised she should suggest such an odd item. Looking down at the device she held out to him, the wave of surprise on his face changed into serious interest as he gingerly took the scope from her.

  “Point it toward the light over there and look into the lens,” she instructed.

  He turned his back to her and lifted the scope to catch the light then exhaled a soft whistle and an indecipherable exclamation.

  Janeen never tired of people's reactions to her pieces of art. They reinforced her desire to design more. She wanted to introduce the whole world to kaleidoscopes. Her scopes.

  “Turn the chamber slowly and watch the colors change.”

  “This is fascinating!” he exclaimed, obviously enjoying the visual circus before him. “The colors are brilliant!”

  “That one's called 'Fantasia.' It's our biggest seller in the line.”

  He glanced back at her. “You have a line of kaleidoscopes?”

  “Yes. They're actually quite popular. Here.” She brought out two more scopes. The cool leather of his glove brushed the back of her hand as he reached to take one. The hairs on her forearm stood at attention and a tingling sensation raced up to her shoulder. There must be a draft in here, she thought.

  “I had no idea kaleidoscopes were so sophisticated. The last time I saw one was when I got one of those little cardboard things in my Christmas stocking as a kid.”

  Janeen smiled at the comment she'd heard a thousand times. “Kaleidoscopes have always been somewhat sophisticated. Through the ages, they were often the gifts of kings and queens.”

  He looked into the new scope, totally engrossed in the splendor. Turning the chamber slowly, he murmured low appreciative sounds.

  Pleased, she watched him with undisguised pride. She knew the beautiful colors and shapes he was viewing. She knew every one of her scopes, like a mother knows her child. “That one's called 'Mirror Mirror' and the other is 'Seascape.' ”

  “The names are very appropriate,” he remarked as he looked into the lens of the second one.

  “I try to keep a theme in mind when naming them.”

  Lowering the scope, he looked surprised. “You name them?”

  “Yes, when I design them.” She sighed inwardly. She'd had so little time lately to do the designing she loved most.

  The surprise on his face now changed to confusion. “You designed all of these?” He looked into the case that held the twelve kaleidoscopes she'd hoped would launch her career.

  “Mm hmm.” Janeen fiddled with her keys, embarrassed by his admiring stare. She licked her lips. Was that his cologne she could taste? “Well, all but this one,” she said, pointing. “This is a Gravelle, one of my favorite designers. I couldn't resist buying it at a trade show.”

  “Is that how you mass market them?”

  “I wish.” She gave a soft laugh. “No, right now I only sell them here. Not that I haven't tried elsewhere. It's just a tough market to break into.”

  “Well, I'm impressed.” He smiled, motioning toward the display case. “May I see the rest?”

  “Sure.” She gladly brought out the other scopes, confident she had hooked him. A big sale would come in handy right now, especially after that phone call.

  She patiently watched as he removed his gloves to better handle the instruments. His fingers were long, slender, and noticeably smooth--not the hands of a laborer. Maybe he was a high finance tycoon, the kind who had regular manicures and used his hands only to sign his name.

  Yet they were strong hands--his knuckles bulged when he moved his fingers. They were expressive and sensual in the way he caressed each scope as he looked through it. She presumed his hands were his tools and he needed the gloves for protection.

  The door signal buzzed and two plump, silver-haired women came in immediately followed by the burly guard in sunglasses. Janeen had almost forgotten about him. She looked from the approaching giant to the unsuspecting ladies, unsure where to direct her attention.

  “Go ahead, take care of them,” the man with the scopes told her. “I'll just look through these while I wait.”

  * * *

  Georgios An
dros watched the lovely shopkeeper walk away. She had a classic kind of beauty: creamy complexion, long, dark, silky hair, striking blue eyes, and an extremely curvaceous figure that set his pulse racing. Her navy blue wool skirt hugged her hips gently before it flared around her shapely knees. The white silk blouse flowed over hidden curves with its high cowl neck adorned by a simple gold chain.

  But looks weren't what excited him the most. As his manager said, he could get all the beautiful women he wanted without even batting an eye. What truly moved him was the beauty of the creations this woman had designed out of bits of wood, glass, mirrors, and crystals. Creativity and intelligence stirred him more than anything else.

  While Tony stood behind him, he continued to inspect the kaleidoscopes at the counter. Their beautiful images strummed music in his head, music he hadn't heard in a long time, music he'd thought he might never hear again, melodies that had been with him for as long as he could remember.

  “Sir?” Tony asked in a low voice.

  Georgios chose not to answer. He knew he was stalling, but the trip was inevitable. As soon as he got back in the car, he'd be whisked to Logan Airport for the dreaded recording session in New York. His detailed arguments against it had raised his manager's attention but in the end made no difference. He had a date with a microphone, ready or not.

  Between viewing each kaleidoscope, Georgios stole glances at the saleswoman as she tended to the older women. She dealt with her customers efficiently, taking great care to see that they understood each product. He liked her professionalism. He liked her self-assuredness.

  “Sir?” If nothing else, Tony was persistent.

  “I know, Tony. I'll be there in a minute. Why don't you wait in the car with Gerald?” He leaned on the glass case and watched the lovely woman at the front of the store as she rang up the ladies' purchases. Her suspicious eyes followed Tony as he resumed his post outside the door rather than in the limo. When she returned to Georgios he couldn't help a broad smile.

  “So, do you think she would like one of these?” she asked.

  “Who?”

  “Your fiancée. Isn't that who you're buying a gift for?”

  “Oh, yes.” Get that stupid look off your face, Georgios. “I wouldn't know which one to choose though.”

  He thought he saw disappointment on her face. After all, she was trying to make a sale and from what he'd overheard of her phone conversation, a good-sized sale was what she needed.

  “Do you think she'd like the 'Aristocrat'?” she asked.

  He leaned his elbows on the counter, leveling his eyes with hers. “Don't get me wrong. They're all wonderful, but I think I'd like something really special, a one-of-a-kind.”

  She blinked rapidly. He saw tiny brown flecks in the blue of her eyes, lending them warmth and openness. He felt himself inching forward to see further into their depths, which reminded him of the deep complexities and colors of the kaleidoscopes.

  Unmoving and patient, she said, “We have many one-of-a-kind items. Could you be a little more specific?” Her gaze darted to the door for a split second.

  Georgios liked this all-business lady. A refreshing change to the falling-all-over-him women he usually had to fend off. The seed of an idea began forming, a plan that would allow him to see her again, and often.

  “Do you do custom orders?”

  “Uh, of course.” She moved back a step, breaking his intentional stare.

  He leaned closer and said in a deep, even tone, “I'd like you to make one for me.”

  “A kaleidoscope?” she asked, unsure of his meaning.

  “Yes, I'd like you to design one for me.”

  “You mean for your fiancée.”

  “Yes...that's right.” Catching a glimpse of Tony pacing in front of the door, Georgios straightened up. He towered over the woman who appeared not to believe him.

  He looked at his watch again. Another five minutes and Tony will have my head. “When do you think you can have it ready?”

  She thought a moment. “It's hard to say. I'll need some details about size, colors, shapes. Could you tell me a little about your fiancée so I know the person I'm designing for?”

  He liked the way her eyelashes fluttered nervously when she spoke. An image of those soft lashes brushing against his cheeks told him it was time to go.

  He cleared his throat. “I'm afraid I don't have time right now, I have a plane to catch. I'll just have to trust your judgment to design something meaningful and...unique.” He sounded like his manager, telling someone how to be creative.

  Georgios reached into his breast pocket for his checkbook and pen. “When is Mother's Day?”

  She frowned. “The second Sunday in May, I think.”

  “I'll need it by then.”

  The woman's face paled, no longer the blushing rose it had been when she'd talked fondly about her kaleidoscopes. He bent to check the prices of the kaleidoscopes in the display case. Not that he cared about the cost, but if he was to make an impression, he had to do it right.

  “That's only four weeks away! It could take that long just to produce it, never mind design it and get your approval.” She nervously wrung her hands.

  “Like I said, I trust your judgment. Just follow your creative whim.” He opened the checkbook and twisted the pen barrel. “I'll leave you a deposit to cover materials and incidentals. Who should I make it out to?”

  When she didn't respond, he looked up to see her worried expression. What was wrong? Had she lied? Did she in fact have nothing to do with designing the scopes?

  No. He didn't believe that. She'd been too sincere, too proud. Four weeks sounded like plenty of time to him. He'd done his second CD in less time than that. He'd just have to sweeten the pot. Experience had taught him that people do amazing things for the right price and she was apparently in no position to turn down money.

  Looking around, he noticed a stack of blue business cards to the right with bold, black script. “Chatter Box?”

  She blinked a few times, as though trying to shake the daze and her frozen expression. “I'm sorry, what?”

  “Chatter Box. Is that what I make the check out to, the store? Or is it...” He looked closer at the business card. “Janeen Warner?” She blushed at the sound of her name. The color turned her radiant under the fluorescent lights.

  “Chatter Box will be fine,” she answered, distracted.

  “And how much do you require?” he asked as he wrote. When again she didn't answer he looked up, tipping his head with anticipation. Janeen squinted; painful indecision seemed to play over her features.

  “Maybe we shouldn't bother with a deposit. I'm just not sure I can meet your time frame,” she said apologetically.

  Ignoring her apprehension, he asked, “Is three hundred enough?”

  Resigned to defeat, she sighed, “Yes, that will be fine.”

  “Five hundred?” He amused himself by bargaining up.

  “Three hundred is fine, really.” Her face softened.

  Georgios searched her eyes for the look that assured him his offer was more than satisfactory. The kind of look he got when he tipped a waitress or a porter a hundred dollars. When Janeen gave him a small, tentative smile, he filled in the check and signed it with a flourish. Quickly tearing it off, he pulled out a business card and dropped both on the counter.

  “I'll be out of town for a few days and unavailable for most of the time, but you can call my cell phone and leave a message when you have something for me to look at.”

  He lifted her card and held it up to his forehead as though doffing his hat. “Thank you, Ms. Warner. You have been a great help. I hope to hear from you soon.”

  He hurried out the door to an anxiously awaiting Tony.

  Janeen stood transfixed for a moment. So much had happened so quickly, her head felt like it had been in a wind tunnel. The current of air that sailed in the door as he exited served to stir up the scent of his lingering cologne. Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed some
thing dark on the counter.

  His gloves!

  She scooped up the leather accessories and rushed out the door, up the cement steps. Clinging to the railing at the top, she panned to the right, then left. At the end of the marketplace, amongst the milling shoppers, she saw two dark figures climb into a long black limousine. The waiting driver immediately pulled out into the busy street.

  Returning to her store, Janeen plopped the gloves back on the counter causing the check to blow onto the floor. It punctuated how quickly the one month he'd given her would fly by. With all the extra hours she worked to make up for personnel cutbacks, there was little enough time left for herself, never mind another job. Why had she agreed to take on a three-month project to be completed in one?

  She stooped to pick up the check. This was why she'd said yes. Money. Everything in her life revolved around it: the rent, the bills, the kaleidoscope designs. If she truly expected to get her own line off the ground, how could she say no to three hundred--

  She stopped in mid-thought after glancing at the check, her heartbeat quickening as she digested the figure.

  “Two thousand dollars!”

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