by Petrova, Em
Ally was back, single, and ready to have fun. Cassie couldn’t wait to show her around town. Maybe they’d go to one of the local nightclubs after the comedy show. She could use a few drinks after today, and if they went to the club where Mike worked, her favorite bartender would make their Manhattans extra potent.
Better wash those low-rise jeans that hug my ass. They’re Mike’s favorite pair, and… Oh, damn it, Paula, where are you?
She released a sigh, but it did little to remove the tension spreading over the back of her neck. How much longer would Ally’s mom be? Cassie didn’t have time for this, despite getting the afternoon off. She had stuff to do and waiting in an old, musty-scented antique store wasn’t one of them. If she wasted too much time, she’d have to borrow something from Cori again.
As much as she loved her little sister, Cori’s wardrobe was a little too revealing, which was saying something considering Cassie liked showing a little skin… Okay, she liked showing a lot of skin.
An internal laugh had her smashing her lips together to stifle the noise. The last thing she needed was the shopkeeper to think she was some nut job who’d wandered in from the street. Then he or she would call the cops and Cassie would end up spending her free time convincing the police she wasn’t insane.
No more awkward confrontations today.
Step by step, she moved further into the store, eyeing all the items spread about the room. The dusty objects caused a tickle in her throat, but she cleared it and proceeded down the center aisle.
Near the back of the shop, a soft light illuminated the walls. It drew her attention away from the rack full of knickknacks to what appeared to be a jewelry case. Standing behind it was an older woman with silver strands of hair. She’d twisted and pinned most of it away from her neck, but a few strands hung around her face.
Cassie wondered if the woman would be interested in selling the pin holding her hair in place. She’d pay top dollar for a few bobby pins at this point.
A smile warmed the woman’s lips as she waved in Cassie’s direction. “Good afternoon, darlin’. Is there anything I can help you find?”
The sweet sound of her voice reminded Cassie of her manners. She curled her lips upward and continued toward the counter. “No, ma’am. I’m sorta waiting on someone.”
“Oh…?”
Curiosity weighed heavily in the woman’s words as she leaned against the counter. She looked as though she were waiting for the rest of the explanation, and rightly so. It was her shop, after all. She had a right to know if Cassie was there to make a purchase or if she was up to no good. Lord knows the crime rate in Savannah had been on the rise. Besides, it would be rude not to explain her presence.
“I’m supposed to be meeting my friend’s mother here. She’s searching for a birthday gift and wanted my help, but I think she’s running behind.”
“Well, no rush, sugar. Take a gander. Maybe you’ll see something you like as well.”
“Me?” Cassie felt her cheeks heat. “No, ma’am. I’m here for my friend.”
“Of course you are, honey, but it’s nice to treat ourselves to something once in a while.” She scanned Cassie from her frizzed hair to her high heels. “Call it a hunch, but something tells me that you haven’t done anything for yourself in quite some time.”
Cassie couldn’t hide how much the woman’s words bothered her. Not when she could feel her cheeks warming from embarrassment. At least she didn’t embarrass easily. She shouldn’t be now, but something about the older woman said she knew things other people didn’t. Almost like a sixth sense.
Had it really been that long since she’d… Hell, Cassie couldn’t remember the last time she did something just for her. It wasn’t the way she was raised. There was only one reason she was in this shop—to help Paula, who was running late.
Was it possible that she changed her mind and went elsewhere, or did she forget that they were meeting today? Her best friend’s mother never had a great memory. Paula accused herself of being a ditz, but in reality, Cassie knew it resulted from all the years she spent in a drunken stupor.
Hopefully, she hadn’t taken up the habit again.
Her attention returned to the grandfather clock she’d passed a moment prior. Roman numerals and black hands revealed the time. Twelve forty-five. If she counted the minutes she’d spent standing outside the store, she’d wasted a grand total of forty on Paula’s arrival.
Ah, screw it.
No matter how much she wanted to walk out the door, she couldn’t. She’d give Ally’s mom five more minutes before she left. In the meantime, she might as well do something to occupy her thoughts.
“Perhaps I will have a look around, see if anything speaks to me.”
There was a twinkle in the older woman’s eyes, as if Cassie’s response made her day. Poor thing. Maybe she didn’t get many patrons.
“Take your time, darlin’. My name is Twila. Just holler if you have any questions.”
Giving her a curt nod, Cassie concentrated on the items surrounding her. She’d never been to an antique store prior to today, nor did she have a reason. History wasn’t her thing. Granted, she’d been to a few local museums, but only because her ex-boyfriend got a hard-on for anything historical.
She should have known better than to date a history teacher. It was the one class in high school that she came close to failing, and she would have failed had it not been for her tutor.
Wow… She hadn’t thought about high school or being tutored since she graduated six years ago. Then again, thinking of Theo McCabe as her tutor was strange. He wasn’t some random classmate who was book smart. They were friends, neighbors even. She and Ally grew up with Theo and his big brother, Jonah.
It wasn’t until Theo skipped his eighth grade year and joined her, Ally, and Jonah in ninth grade when she realized what a brainiac he was. Between his carefree attitude and incorrigible behavior, he hid it well. Of course, she’d encouraged some of his bad behavior… The second he took up the guitar, it was even harder to think of him as a genius.
Guilt warmed her cheeks at the thought. It was stereotypical to think a wannabe rocker was nothing more than a roughneck bad boy who spent his days drinking beer, smoking weed, and strumming a guitar. That’s how their peers viewed Theo in high school. It didn’t help that the four of them would sneak into Paula’s liquor cabinet and steal a bottle of whiskey, or gin, or whatever they could get their hands on.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t long after that when Jonah and Theo made getting into trouble a habit.
Brushing off the memories, Cassie gawked at the handbags, china, even a music box setting atop an antique vanity. Though she appreciated the craftsmanship on some of the items, nothing grabbed her interest enough to garner further inspection. By the time she made it around the shop, she still had a minute to spare.
Might as well look at the jewelry.
As she moved toward the back of the shop, Twila busied herself with several opened boxes sitting on a wide counter against the wall. She remained focused on her task, even when Cassie stopped in front of the first glass counter.
An array of brooches, lockets, and rings lined the silky black material inside the case. She scanned each item before moving on to the next case, and then the following. Yet the more she stood there, the more her skin prickled with irritation.
Damn Paula. It wasn’t just the fact that she’d stood Cassie up that pissed her off. It was the reason behind it. The more she thought about it, the more she worried that Ally’s mom was drinking. How could she do Ally like—
The light inside the last case reflected on something that blinded Cassie. She forced herself to blink a few times. Out of all the items within the case, only one thing could have caused the spark of light—the hair comb. It came into view as she leaned closer to the glass.
Amongst the pearls and diamond baguettes were tiny flowers. Not just any flowers, but camellias, pink camellias, like the ones in the McCabes’ yard. She’d never forget
their sweet scent or how every now and then, Theo and Jonah would bring her and Ally a single bloom and place it in their hair.
“Find something you like, sugar?”
Though Twila’s voice was just as soft as the first time she spoke, it still had Cassie jumping out of her skin. She was so lost in thought that she didn’t notice the older woman approaching.
“You okay, baby girl? I didn’t mean to startle you.”
Cassie nodded and waved off Twila’s question. Laughter bubbled in her chest. The shopkeeper probably thought she was drunk. Ironically, it was a drunk that caused her to come here in the first place.
Feeling the weight of Twila’s gaze, she shifted hers in the woman’s direction and smiled. “Yes, ma’am, I’m peachy.”
“Well, that’s good to hear. Did you find something in the case that—how did you say it—speaks to you?”
“I uh…” Stammering for words, she pursed her lips with a no, but then changed her mind. What would it hurt to take a closer peek? Paula obviously wasn’t going to show. “Could I see the hair comb?”
As Cassie pressed her finger to the cool glass, Twila’s eyes lowered. “You sure can, honey. Let me get it for you.”
She turned back to the large counter behind her, grabbing a set of keys attached to a stretchy band. One by one, she sorted through the silver keys until she found the one she wanted. It didn’t take her long to unlock the case or curl her slender fingers around the comb. A moment later, she handed it to Cassie.
“It’s a beauty, I’ll say that much,” Twila said, as she leaned against the counter. “And it has history, too. All the items in my store do.”
“Beggin’ your pardon, ma’am, but what exactly do you mean by that?”
Humor played on Twila’s face. “Every object in this store has a story behind it, like where it came from, who its last owner was, and what brought the piece into my possession. This comb dates back to the 1930’s. I haven’t had it long, so I’ve failed to research the complete history. However, I do know there is a legend attached to it.”
While Cassie may not be much of a history buff, she did love legends and lore. Hearing Twila’s explanation only furthered her curiosity. “What kind of legend?”
Still leaning on her elbows, Twila glanced back to the hair comb in Cassie’s hands. “Well, you see, these are camellia flowers. Legend has it that when a camellia flower is in a person’s possession, it will awaken his or her soul. Once the soul is awake, it longs for its true half.”
“True half?” Cassie stifled a laugh. Twila wholeheartedly believed in what she was saying. The way her eyes glistened in the light said as much.
“Yes, sugar. A true half—the soul’s counterpart.”
“So according to legend, if I wear this hair comb, I’ll find my, uh, soul’s counterpart?”
“That’s correct.”
The urge to laugh tickled Cassie’s chest. She should hand the comb back to Twila and head for home. The top of the hour was approaching and she’d wasted enough time inside the antique store waiting on Ally’s mother. She didn’t have time for silly legends or notions, and she sure didn’t have time to waste pining over a man.
Yet the more she gazed at the comb, the harder it was to give it back.
“So what do you think? Shall I wrap it for you?”
Why not? Wasn’t I just bitching earlier about needing a hair clip?
Flashing Twila her sweetest southern-belle smile, Cassie shook her head and opened her purse. “No, ma’am. I think I’ll wear it. I have to do something with this mop atop my head.”
A chuckle slipped past the woman’s lips as she rang up the purchase. Cassie wanted to kick herself for not asking the price before hand. Weren’t antique items expensive?
Screw it. It wasn’t like she was poor. She wasn’t rich either, but she’d spent more money on her ex than what she would the comb. Besides, Twila was right. She hadn’t done anything for herself in a long time. Not something like this.
At least she could leave once she paid for her purchase. There would still be plenty of time to do laundry and get ready before meeting Ally. Tonight was going to be so much fun. And who knew. If she wore the hair comb, maybe she’d run into her soul’s counterpart…
Yeah right. This was one legend she’d most definitely debunk.
***
The words Call Ended populated the screen on Theo’s cell phone as he stared in silence. A dull thump formed behind his temples, forcing him to close his eyes and press his thumb and middle finger to the sides of his head.
This could not be happening. Not tonight. Not three hours before their gig at Midnight Blues nightclub.
Funny how a similar thought crossed his mind years ago, when he and Parker Pearson got into a fistfight their senior year. Unlike that day, he wasn’t in the middle of a fight or missing an opportunity to get his band noticed. They’d been noticed, which is why he was back in Savannah, experiencing déjà vu.
“Goddammit, Jeff,” he mumbled under his breath. All he needed was for his brother to hear him and start asking questions. Though he knew he had to tell Jonah what happened, the thought of explaining the details had him gritting his teeth.
This wouldn’t be a tea and cookie conversation. This would be an argument full of sarcasm, hostility, and guilt trips. Whoever slung the most shit would win.
Shifting his eyes across the walls of Jonah’s hotel suite, he observed the empty hallway, feeling a sense of relief. Jonah was nowhere in sight. Good. If his brother hadn’t heard his phone call with Jeff, then there was still time to form a backup plan.
While Theo empathized with Jeff’s current situation, he couldn’t afford to lose his lead guitarist on such short notice. Not even for a night.
He promised Jonah that he and the guys would be ready for their recording session next week. They had to be. If Jonah hadn’t offered his help, Southern Scandal wouldn’t hit the studio for at least six months. Didn’t Jeff understand how grateful they should be?
The sooner they produced an album, the faster Theo would live his dream—to sing and play his guitar before millions of people, to have the songs he wrote played across the airwaves, to be able to look his father in the eye and say, ‘I made it, even though you doubted me’.
Jeff wanted this opportunity just as much. So did Jesse and Allen, but the driving force behind his bass guitarist and drummer differed from that of his lead guitarist. Jesse and Allen wanted the babes. Jeff wanted to support his girl and the baby boy she carried inside her.
Ironically, it was his motivation that kept him from his duties this evening.
Though he wanted to be pissed with his friend, he couldn’t be. At least Jeff was being a man and taking care of his responsibilities. Besides, it wasn’t his fault that his girlfriend had health issues that created complications with her pregnancy. Jeff was worried about her and his son. Theo would feel the same if he…
He laughed off the thought of him having a steady girl or a kid. Maybe he’d have both someday, but not now. Relationships slowed people down. They caused plans to change and dreams to be abandoned. No way was he giving up on his, especially when he was this close to getting everything he wanted. There was no woman in the world worth that type of sacrifice.
Well, maybe…
No. Not even her. Besides, that was years ago. The thing he had for her was just as dead and buried as the hope he had to be with her one day. Yet being back home brought those feelings to the surface. Did it do the same to Jonah? It was this same damn town where he lost his hope as well.
Of course, Jonah chose to let Ally go, but it wasn’t really his choice. It was one he was told would be best, thanks to Paula Jacobs. Old biddy. She should have kept her drunk ass out of her daughter’s business and allowed her to make her own choices.
Ally would have remained in Savannah if she’d known how his brother really felt. Guess that was old news now. There was no point in thinking about the past. He’d just lost his guitarist for the ev
ening. He sure as hell didn’t need this type of distraction, didn’t need to think about Jonah and Ally and…her. She was definitely a distraction, one that caused his groin to throb.
Damn! He needed to stop thinking about—
“Everything okay?”
The sound of his brother’s voice brought him back to the present and the not so pleasant conversation they were about to have. Thankfully, it removed the images in his mind and squelched the desire that had his dick getting hard.
Just as well. There was no sense in wasting an erection when there would be plenty of honeys ready to satisfy him after the show. Hard to believe Southern Scandal already had fans. Not just any fans, but those who were anxious to drop their panties and wrap their legs around his waist.
“Hello?” Jonah grumbled from the hall. “Earth to Theo. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah…I mean no. Well, yes and no.”
He didn’t miss the confusion knitting his brother’s brow or the gruff sound it produced in his voice. “Come again?”
“How much do you love me, big bro?”
All the tension in Jonah’s shoulders faded as they dipped lower. He leaned his weight against the corner closest to the wet bar. “Well, I guess I have my answer. Everything is not okay. What’s going on, Theo?”
Fuck… Here it comes.
“I need you to do me a huge favor.”
The scowl hadn’t left Jonah’s face, but he kept his voice steady when he asked, “What type of favor?”
Theo forced himself to swallow.
“Remember those mad guitar skills you buried a few years ago?” He paused when he noticed Jonah’s eyes narrow. It was now or never. “How would you feel about digging them up and putting them to use? Your little bro needs a guitarist for the evening.”
Jonah snorted. Then a flurry of curse words followed.
Chapter Two
Theo dug his hands in his back pockets and waited for his brother to answer, but short of a snort, Jonah remained by the wet bar, eyes closed, breath steady. Either he was in complete shock over what Theo asked him, or he was on the verge of saying—