Rapid Pulse: A Limited Edition Spicy Romance Collection

by Gina Kincade

  Stacked neatly on the floor in front of the stove she found six small boxes. A coffee maker, toaster, and hand mixer in black, a set of nesting bowls and a crock with utensils in red and a box of Libby glasses, all brand new with receipts taped to them. She knew this too was Katharine’s doing.

  In the sink were more surprises; a new dish drainer, several kitchen towels in red and white, a bottle of dishwasher soap and several scrubbers all with tags attached too. She knew she would have used the old until they were threadbare or could be replaced, these items would have been an afterthought for her. She hung her head, freeing happy tears into the open side of the basin.

  With no tissues in sight, she moved toward the bathroom hoping a roll was in place. Katharine had struck there too. A stack of new towels in soft heather were on the counter. A shower and a window curtain to match them were already hung in place. Thankfully, a twelve pack was next to the towels and she broke out a roll to christen the space, nose first.

  Maggie was stunned, and a bit overwhelmed too. Amazed simply didn’t encompass it. Moving into the bedroom area she found the bed had been reassembled but left unmade. She knew the box with the linens was marked and would be easy to find but like with every other area, she wouldn’t need to unless she wanted to.

  A deep grey sheet and comforter set, complete with shams and skirting, matched the curtains over blinds that had already been hung. They sat in the heavy plastic zippered pouch from the store next to another Bon Ton bag in front of the wardrobes. A short, shag, bedside rug in charcoal with matching throw pillows and another cabled blanket in red with grey were inside. Soft whirring drew her eye up to a black short blade ceiling fan that was also a new addition. Chuffing out in disbelief, she sat down hard on the floor and stared absently at the fan as it turned.

  From one end of the space to the other, everything...everything went together as though it was exactly how it was supposed to be. Not in any version she’d imagined as she had planned her future did this happen. She had no words to encompass it. There was only one that came to mind and it was third, or fourth, best to the sensation. It was perfect.

  Maggie didn’t move for hours. For long stretches of minutes she wasn’t sure she dared to breathe, afraid it would all disappear. It was nearly April second before she changed position, and then mainly because her ass was numb. The pins, needles, and wobbly gate reinforced her decision not to do that again soon.

  The final surprise came when she went to put her forgotten soda in the fridge. Sitting on the top shelf, amid the milk and other things that had been brought over earlier in the day, was an envelope from her uncle Joseph banded to two bank books. Cracking open the longer book she found a checking account with a ledger balance of five thousand dollars. The second, shorter book was a savings passbook. Maggie dropped the book and everything else when she saw the balance. The savings account sat with just under eighty thousand dollars in it. Once again, she ass- planted on the floor.

  Scrambling on hands and knees, she grabbed the bank books and the letter, putting the former two aside before settling in to read.

  Margaret,

  Jane Ann’s life insurance has paid out. As agreed, we paid the funeral expenses first, the balance here is yours after a few purchases. One, the loft has been paid in advance through August. What you do then is up to you, but it gives you a few months to get it figured out. Next, the balance on the Taurus has also been paid. Watch for the title in the next month or so from the state and keep it safe. A small portion has been separated out to a checking account for bills, but it is all here accounted for. You should get debit cards for both accounts in the mail soon. Don’t hesitate to ask for help if you need to. Spend it wisely.

  Katharine thought you’d like to do the living part more than the shopping part and took the liberty to get the loft out-fitted. Everything is returnable, but based on your choices for furniture, she did the rest with the help of your other aunts. None of us knew what else we could do, or how to help you besides what you asked for and it was all we could think of. We hope you approve.

  All of your receipts and papers are in the bottom drawer of the wardrobe by the wall in the bedroom, including a large file with the case information and pending claim for the railroad and the accident. They will keep me informed, as well as you, until it is complete. It is likely to be a long affair.

  Phone service was established and prepaid for the loft through August as well. The installer will be out April second in the afternoon. We knew you’d be home since the furniture was being delivered. Please let us know when it’s done. There’s a phone and answering machine in the wardrobe. We are all only ever a call away and every number you need is on the pull out.

  We know after these last several long weeks that you are not a child anymore. We know too that it has been many years since we have all been anything that resembled close. Just remember that you do still have a family that loves you and will help if we can should you need us. You are never alone.

  -Joseph

  Maggie folded the note and stacked it neatly on the two bank books to the side before letting the tears go free. Her mother’s death had been too shocking and the weeks between had been busy with details of everything else. Now, here on her kitchen floor, she let herself grieve and get it all out. Things she hadn’t stopped to think about had all been handled. Plans she hadn’t thought about, or realized she needed to make, were made and completed. She wasn’t alone, she knew it was true. What’s more, she knew that it was all nearly done and she had made it through to the other side in one, mostly sane, piece.

  It hadn’t been a doubt, but it hadn’t been a certainty either. Now that she was standing, well sitting, on the precipice of her new beginning, all the hopes and fears needed out. They ran her cheeks in wave after wave as she finally came up for air. It was manic, and erratic, and freeing all at the same time. Like the loft, it was now somehow perfect.

  ‘Everything she wants...’

  Maggie didn’t know when she had fallen asleep; she barely remembered moving to the bed. She was disoriented, and something had woken her from her broken slumber on the bare mattress with the throw blanket. The buzzer sounded again followed by loud pounding. Time remained uncharted without a watch or a clock, but it had to be ten if that was who she presumed it was. The furniture had arrived.

  Still dressed from the day before, she looked out to see who was here. The same two men who had taken everything away from the old apartment appeared through the peep hole on opposite sides of the dresser she had chosen. She let them in on a yawn. The entertainment center and sectional came next followed by the dishes, invoice, and an unexpected small desk and chair that matched reasonably well to the entertainment unit. She shook her head and smiled absently as she signed for the deliveries and the two men left. Katharine.

  For how empty the room had been less than an hour or so before, it was full to the brim and cluttered now. Thankfully, they had taken the dresser to the bedroom and put it in place upon arrival. They had set the entertainment unit and sectional in reasonable proximity to where she wanted them too. She could set the rest easily enough by herself.

  Standing at the counter, having a slapped together sandwich, she visually debated the remaining pieces and the space. She stopped briefly to open the curtains over the slider and see how the light would fall, as well as the view into the area from nearby buildings. She would decide when, what, and how anyone would see in from day one.

  Shifting things slightly, she took the entertainment unit out of the line of sight for if she chose to leave the drapes open, before she turned the sectional pieces to form an ‘L’ shape from it to the slider so she could sit or lie in either direction and see well the television or outside. The desk, chair, and her old bookcase were configured to take the corner behind the door to the right of the balcony, and one of the wing backs got the corner to the left near the entertainment center. The other wingback would go to the bedroom for now.

  Picking up the last
of her sandwich on her way back from the bedroom she dropped onto the sectional and decided she was done. She would start on boxes after the phone company had come. No sense leaving the details of her things open to inspection. Her father had never believed in ‘living on display’. As she thought through his words, she decided she finally understood what he had meant.

  She was lost in thoughts of years past and other things her father used to say that hadn’t made sense at the time when the buzzer sounded again. The peep hole revealed a plain man who reminded her vaguely of Travis, in a uniform for the phone service. He was in and done in a matter of ten minutes. The switch had been turned on off sight, he only needed to check the line, get a signature and he’d be done.

  The jack on the wall over the island just inside the door checked out fine as did the one in the corner. They’d had to unearth it from behind the bookcase. She didn’t let him back to the bedroom one knowing it wouldn’t matter if it functioned or not, she wouldn’t be plugging a phone in back there. The phone from her family had a cordless for that. She signed, accepted her copies of the paperwork, and said thanks before shutting the door and throwing the lock in place.

  Getting the main phone from the wardrobe, she set it on the island and plugged it in. She pulled the slide out from the bottom, found Joseph & Katharine’s numbers, and started with their house first. One by one she called all five of her mother’s siblings. The conversations were nearly identical content wise, only the order changed.

  Yes, the furniture was in. Yes, the phone was on. Yes, she was astonished at all they had done and there were not enough thank yous to go around. She would be keeping most of it. No, she hadn’t unpacked yet. Yes it would probably take a few days but she didn’t work until the fourth so she had time. Yes, she found the note and the files. Yes, she had slept. Yes, she was eating, and yes, she would call if she needed anything.

  She spoke to Katharine briefly to find out where the fabric was from, and for a personal thank you as Maggie knew she was primarily responsible. Otherwise, the calls were not exceptional in any other way. By two o’clock she had spoken to everyone and nearly debated unplugging the phone after she hung up with Jordy for some peace. She was temporarily exhausted.

  Maggie rescued her journal from the bag in the bedroom she had made sure to move personally. She took it, and her favorite pen, to the sectional to make her entry. Unlike others that wandered and rambled with dreams and plans, this entry was short and direct, if not a little obscure.

  April 2, 2:05pm – Goodbye yellow brick road.

  ‘Crimson and clover...’

  Knowing she had a couple of days to mess with the unpacking, Maggie fished her toothbrush from the bag in the bedroom and went to hop in the shower for a pick me up. Clean clothes after hot water made great strides toward restarting the day. She found as she padded around that her sandwich had no staying power when her stomach let out a mild roar. Short of a long search for supplies, a trip out would be simpler.

  Grabbing her wallet and keys after finding her coat, she was off. She stopped for a coffee and a roll before grabbing a cab uptown. She had vacillated taking the car, but parking could set her back more than a cab both ways, so cab it was.

  Her first stop was the fabric store where Katharine had bought the pieces to recover the wingbacks. Walking the aisles she was just looking but really not sure what she was looking for more than an idea. She wanted to tack fabric to the backs of the wardrobes to add texture and color to the main area. She wanted something to work with the greys, blacks and reds of her things to overcome the sterile white walls. She was only mildly surprised to find herself looking at a heavy bolt of red leather a short time later. It was not the same supple leather of the suit she still craved, but it had potential.

  Mustering her courage, she left the shop and hopped a bus to a street she’d found one other time, what seemed ages ago. In full daylight she was still nervous and mopped her palms against her denim before grabbing the handle and walking in. It was near to what she remembered with some minor floor arrangement changes.

  Custom Helotry seemed to cater to every taste as she moved between the areas. She found a range of items from what she would consider sexy to slutty, and kink to hardcore. The store itself was mostly empty, but everyone inside was keeping to themselves so she couldn’t say how many were actually there without obviously paying attention to count.

  In her effort to be inconspicuous she managed to back into an area full of what she could only guess was classified as furniture. The pieces were perhaps the most confusing of all. She stopped to consider a fragmented looking table and nearly jumped out of her skin when a male voice addressed her from behind.

  “You have a good eye.”

  Calming her breath, she wasn’t sure at the comment. “I beg your pardon?”

  “The table, it’s quite a beautiful piece.”

  She had hardly comprehended the table itself as beautiful, distracted by the odd straps and hardware. She looked at it now and tried to come up with something intelligent to say.

  “The wood is beautiful.”

  “Yes, it is. As I said, you have a good eye. It’s probably the best piece on display right now. Do you have one?”

  Maggie was instantly thankful that she was facing away as she needed to pick her jaw up from the floor and cool her cheeks. She managed to swallow and control her voice when she responded, surprising herself with her words.

  “No. I have no room for a piece so large.”

  “Pity, this one is just your size.”

  Maggie stuffed her eyes back into her head before turning to face the mysterious him. She would blow her façade to show her shock at his comment, though her mind whirred at the implications of his statement. She did her best to come up with anything to say as she turned, fumbling a bit as she caught her first glimpse of him. He was handsome, hard but handsome, the way a rugged man looks when he’s dressed up for company.

  “Do you...do you think so?” She tried to sound coy.

  “Indeed. I too have a very good eye.”

  She was noticing those eyes. A girl could drown in the icy blue depths of them, drawn to go further by the twinkle in the depths.

  “Have we met?” She tried to turn the conversation to neutral and social.

  “No. I don’t believe so. My name is Hawthorne DuFoe.”

  “Pleasure, I’m Margaret. Maggie...” she sputtered out with an offhanded wave. She didn’t know why she hadn’t left it at Margaret. The formal Margaret always felt foreign on her tongue.

  He smiled at the familiar calling before responding. “I see. If you’re Maggie, then I’m Thorne; my pleasure as well.”

  Gesturing an arm around the room as she spoke, “I’m fairly new to the city, would you say this shop is average or better for what’s around here?”

  He appeared to consider his answer, or maybe he was considering her. He looked straight at, if not through her as he pondered his reply.

  “Ah, well, welcome to Chicago first. I would say for general content it is par for what you will find anywhere. For specialty and furnishings, I don’t think you’ll find better, at least I haven’t. The name is fitting for that.”

  He was pleasant to look at and Maggie had to remind herself to be graceful and not awkward. He didn’t ogle her the way she expected someone in this setting would. Thinking of his earlier question, she referenced the table open palmed.

  “Do you have one then?”

  His grin was pure predator. “No, not yet. I’m afraid I favor custom work which takes resources that take time. One day though I will have one.”

  “I didn’t realize such pieces were made custom.”

  “Yes Maggie, some of us think we can improve the designs or at least improve them for our individual tastes.”

  “I see. And wh...”

  Before she could voice the question a tan, lean brunette emerged from the other end of the room.

  “Mr. DuFoe, your cross is this way if you’d like t
o inspect it. I didn’t hear you come in.”

  The predator was back and though only in her mind, salivating at the mention of his cross.

  “Excellent. Excuse me Maggie.”

  He went to move past her, turning back to her as she uttered her, “Of course.”

  “Unless you’d like to see my cross...”

  He was not expectant in his tone, only polite, though Maggie felt the words hang with something else. Not wanting to tip her hand, thinking she’d managed her side well enough to this point, she hedged.

  “No thank you. If this is the grand reveal, you should get to enjoy that for yourself, perhaps another time.”

  His smile was electric and his anxiousness visible. He genuflected briefly before turning to go see his prize. “As you wish, another time.”

  She watched him walk away. It only seemed fair as he had approached her from behind. Tailored trousers fell exactly right across a firm and tone behind. Maggie curbed the urge to sigh at the sight. He was fine to look at from this angle too.

  She waited until he had disappeared through, where the woman had emerged from, before leaving the room of odd furniture. She mentally added several research items to her mental list, thinking she needed to figure out how to do the research first. She glanced around briefly as she cleared the doorway. It had not escaped her internal diatribe that he was in tailored clothing and she was in jeans. Thankfully, a few she caught sight of were equally informal.

  She busied herself for a bit, browsing odd pieces she passed, trying to inconspicuously note words on packages and some of the literature scattered around to add to her research. In for a penny, in for a pound she thought. She inspected a display of paddles as she tried to look at another display of leather straps without actually looking at them. They were similar but not the same as what she had seen in the laundry bag on occasion. Could those be custom made as well?

  A bright red cane caught her eye on the display she was using as her deception, drawing her attention away from the leather completely. In her mind, it was oddly perfect and it was time to make her escape anyway. She made her way to the counter, thankful that it wasn’t exorbitantly expensive and she would be buying something. Walking out again empty handed somehow made her feel cheap. This was the pound in for today.