I didn’t know the woman, and these were silly thoughts to have.
Maybe I was still high from the hit I’d had hours ago.
I knew that was impossible, but I would’ve liked to believe it, because it scared me to think that one person might have such a profound affect on me after only one encounter.
I tried to convince myself that it was her beauty that had me thinking such pining and poetic thoughts.
But it wasn’t that.
It was…her.
She hadn’t looked at me with disgust or pity. She’d certainly been irritated with me barging into her apartment, but I didn’t see any of the usual looks on her face that I got from other people. In the last five years I had grown used to people looking down upon me. I didn’t blame them for it. Fuck, I looked down on myself. I knew my parents would be ashamed if they knew how I turned out after their deaths. They’d probably string me up and flog me. The knowledge didn’t serve to make me want to change though. I didn’t think anything ever would. I had become far to use to letting drugs and alcohol take over every facet of my life so that I didn’t have to deal with shit. Some called it self-medicating. I called it the-only-thing-that-didn’t-disappoint-me. My family may have been the ones that died that night, but I might as well have too, because I sure as hell stopped living.
Kyle was the only person that stuck by my side, and even we weren’t usually on good terms. For some reason, he refused to ditch my sorry ass. I think he’d never forgive himself if something happened to me. He felt responsible for my downward spiral since he thought if he’d come home with me that night he could have somehow kept me from breaking apart. Nothing could have prevented my reaction, but he didn’t understand that. He hadn’t had his only family ripped from him. Like everyone else, he couldn’t relate no matter how hard he tried.
When I stepped into the cemetery a feeling of peace swirled through my body.
They were close.
I made the familiar steps to my family’s graves.
“Hi guys,” I said, taking my position between my sister and mother’s graves. I lay down on my back, stretching my arms behind my head. “I’ve missed you.”
I closed my eyes, pretending they answered and asked me how my day was.
“I painted a new picture of you, Cayla. I think you’d like it. You were in the park, chasing butterflies like you used to do. Do you remember that?”
The wind tickled my cheeks and I smiled, imagining it was Cayla’s laughter.
“Somebody moved into the apartment across from mine. Her name’s Sutton. And…” I trailed off. “I don’t know what to think about her—whether I like her or hate her. I think I like her. Hating her would be easier though.” I whispered, my eyes still closed as I pictured my mom, dad, and sister all seated around the kitchen table as we talked like we used to. “I’ve hated everyone since you guys left me.”
“Why, Caelan?” Cayla asked—or at least I wished she did.
“Because,” I spoke, finally allowing my eyes to drift open to view the white puffy clouds above, “Loving you guys caused me unbearable pain and I refuse to ever go through that again. I can’t lose someone else, so it’s better if I don’t care.”
“Good luck with that,” Cayla sassed. “You can’t hate everyone forever.”
“I can try,” I growled, anger simmering in my veins at the imaginary voice.
“Love always finds a way in. Even if it’s not the kind of love you’re searching for.”
I pushed myself to my feet, shaking off the grass that clung to my jeans. Talking to my dead sister was taking things too far—even for me.
I headed home, determined to drink myself into oblivion so that the words I’d pretended my sister was whispering no longer existed.
⌘⌘⌘
Sutton
“Again with the fucking noise!”
I wasn’t surprised when Caelan came storming out of his apartment, angrier than he had been yesterday.
“They’re bringing a couch in,” I pointed to the furniture delivery guys, giving Caelan a bored look. “I’m sorry if their grunts disturbed you,” I said, my tone dripping with sarcasm.
His blue eyes sparkled with fire and I was surprised steam wasn’t coming out of his nose and ears. His hands fisted at his sides and his shoulders were tight with tension.
“Keep. The. Noise. Down. I’m working!” He shouted, his face red. A vein in his forehead threatened to explode.
My lips quirked into a crooked, challenging smile. Did this guy really think he could intimidate me? He was in for a rude awakening. I didn’t cower under pressure. I thrived on it.
“Buddy,” I started, eyeing him and completely unfazed, “you don’t scare me. That might work with other people, but it won’t work on me. Have you ever heard of these things called earplugs?” I pointed to my ears. “Or maybe headphones—then you could listen to music and forget the whole world still existed.”
“You think you’re real clever?” He seethed, but I swore there was amusement in his eyes, like he was enjoying the game we were playing.
“The cleverest,” I retorted, moving out of the way so the men could maneuver the large couch through the narrow doorway.
“I guess no one told you the rules when you moved in,” he gritted his teeth, “so I’m going to be nice and cut you some slack. Everyone knows, if you live here, you keep quiet. I need to work and I need silence.”
“You don’t own the place,” I countered haughtily, crossing my arms over my chest. I didn’t miss the way his eyes couldn’t help but caress the skin peeking out from the tank top I was wearing.
“That may be true,” he pointed a finger in my face, “but you don’t want to get on my bad side, Sutton,” he hissed my name like it was poisonous. I had to admit, I was surprised he remembered it.
“Trust me,” I smiled slowly, “I don’t want to be on any side of yours.”
His eyes narrowed, but he knew he’d lost this round. He turned to go back in his apartment and stopped short of closing the door. “Quiet.” Pleased that he had the final word, he closed the door.
I laughed, shaking my head.
This was going to be fun.
If he thought he could control me with a few bossy words, then he was in for a rude awakening.
Sutton Hale didn’t bow down to anyone. Least of all some conceited dickwad that thought the world owed him a favor.
⌘⌘⌘
After the guys delivering the couch left I decided to dress up a bit and walk around town to see if anyone was hiring.
I went into a few places, but none of them felt right.
I wasn’t even sure what I was searching for, but I’d know when I found it.
The stars were twinkling in the night sky when I entered a shop for a much needed coffee break.
I waited in line, watching the people seated around the shop.
When it was my turn to order I chose the house blend—sans sugar or anything else, of course.
“You look tired,” the older man working there said, pouring my coffee into a cup and sticking a lid on.
I nodded. “Job hunting will do that to you.”
“Job hunting?” he propped an elbow on the counter, ignoring the others waiting to place their order. “I’m looking for some help.”
“You are?” I brightened. I had already decided I liked the atmosphere in the neat little shop.
“Yeah,” he smiled kindly, “we’re far too busy and understaffed. When can you start?”
My eyes threatened to bug out of my head. “That’s it? I’m hired? You didn’t even interview me!”
He chuckled. “Have you killed anyone?”
“No!” I scoffed in disbelief.
“See?” He shrugged. “You’re safe enough. When can you start?” He asked again.
“T-tomorrow?” I hesitated, wondering if someone was about to jump from behind the counter and tell me I’d been Punk’d.
“Excellent,” he clapped his hands togeth
er and smiled broadly. “Welcome to Griffin’s,” he held out a hand, “I’m Griffin, the owner and boss extraordinaire around these parts.”
“Sutton.” I couldn’t help but smile at his exuberance and overall gruff charm.
Clearing his throat, he said, “Alright, now get out of here before people start thinking I have a heart.”
I laughed, amused by my new boss.
I was headed out the door when I heard my name called. Startled, I stopped in my tracks. No one knew me here, so I couldn’t see how they’d be speaking to me, but Sutton wasn’t exactly a common name.
I turned around, scanning the interior of the shop when my eyes landed on arms flailing wildly.
I laughed, recognizing Frankie. He waved me over and I knew it would be rude not to join.
“Hi,” I said hesitantly, standing beside the table he occupied.
His red hair stuck up wildly around his head and his arm was slung over the shoulder of a pretty blonde girl. Another girl sat beside him, and her hair color matched his, so I knew this must be the sister he had spoken of yesterday.
“Sutton, this is my girlfriend, Jen,” he leaned over and kissed the cheek of the blonde girl, “and my sister, Daphne,” he nodded to the other girl.
Both of them said hi, as I stood there awkwardly.
“Nice to meet you,” I finally spoke.
“Sit down.” Frankie pointed to the empty chair. “We’re nice people. Stop looking at us like we kicked a puppy.”
“Sorry,” I laughed, my nervousness slipping away.
I pulled out a chair and took a seat, at a loss as to what to say. I wasn’t a shy person, but I wasn’t a great conversationalist either.
“So you moved in across from Caelan?” Daphne asked me, pulling her pretty red hair over her shoulder so it draped down her chest.
She was petite with alabaster skin and eyes that could only be describe as gold. Her nose was slim while her lips had that perfect pout most girls would kill for.
I nodded. “Nice fellow.”
She rolled her eyes as the other two laughed. “Yeah, about as nice as a starving lion when it sees a gazelle.” Tapping her bright purple nails against the lacquered tabletop, she asked, “Are you from here?”
I shook my head.
“Where are you from then?” She questioned, a curious brow arching.
“Ignore her,” Frankie interrupted, “she’s really nosy and will ask you a million and one questions.”
“Whatever,” Daphne grumbled.
“I lived in Dallas, Texas,” I answered.
“And you came here?” She gasped. “To the middle of fucking nowhere? Why?”
I shrugged, may gaze sliding away from her face to look at my reflection in the shiny top. “I guess I needed a change of scenery,” I whispered.
“It’s so boring here,” Daphne sneered, “seriously, nothing exciting ever happens.”
“Except when Caelan has one of his episodes,” Frankie inserted with a shake of his head. “Or when Cyrus has one of his parties.”
“Huh?” I spoke up.
“You’ll know soon enough,” Frankie chuckled, leaning into his girlfriend and playfully nibbling on her ear. She appeared embarrassed at first, and then sank into his touch.
“Ignore them,” Daphne slid closer to me. “They’re sickeningly in love and it’s disgusting.”
I couldn’t help laughing. “You sound jealous.”
“Not at all,” she muttered, and I noticed that her eyes zeroed in on a guy cleaning off a table. He was tall with tanned skin and dark slightly curled hair that fell in his eyes. Stubble dotted his defined cheeks and chin. He looked like he belonged on a magazine, not cleaning tables.
I looked back at her, noting her lust-filled eyes, and connected the dots. Since I didn’t know her well, I didn’t say anything, but filed this bit of information in the back of my mind.
“Anyway,” she propped her head on her hand, smiling at me. “You’re the one that pissed Caelan off so badly yesterday?”
I rolled my eyes. “I get the impression that everyone and everything pisses him off.”
“This is true,” she laughed, the sound light and musical sounding. “You have to learn how to deal with him.”
“Yeah, well,” I mumbled, my lips quirking, “I don’t plan on bowing down to him.”
“He doesn’t frighten you?” She questioned with wide eyes.
I was a bit taken aback by her question, but I could see how Caelan could be an intimidating guy. He gave off a vibe of stay-away-from-me. “Not at all.”
It was obvious that Caelan had demons. It was plain to see in his eyes to a keen observer. I didn’t see anything there to fear though. He was broken. Life will do that to you—it toys with you, pushing you to your limits, waiting to see what it takes to make you snap.
She sat back, eyeing me.
“What?” I asked when she didn’t say anything.
“I’m trying to figure you out,” her eyes pierced me.
“There’s nothing to figure out,” I assured her.
“Everyone has a story.”
With that, she came to her feet and left without a backwards glance.
CHAPTER 3
Sutton
After Daphne’s departure I didn’t feel like staying and watching Frankie make-out with Jen, so I gathered my stuff to head back to the apartment.
I loved that there were so many shops in the vicinity of where I lived. I could walk around and find anything I wanted.
I stopped at a cupcake shop, the smell luring me inside, and picked out two to take home with me. Red velvet and double chocolate. I wasn’t sure which one I’d eat first.
As I entered the hallway leading to my apartment, I struggled to maintain my hold on my coffee, the cupcakes, and my purse. Something had to go tumbling to the ground.
Of course it was the coffee and the cupcakes.
“Shit!” I yelled, stomping my foot in frustration and beginning to mourn the loss of the cupcakes and coffee. Well, I’d still eat the cupcakes. They might be smashed from the fall, but the box had kept them from touching the floor. So in my book, still edible.
“What’s going on now?”
The door to Caelan’s apartment came flying open at the commotion.
I was now convinced the guy freaked out over any sound—even a mouse farting. Do mice fart? I’d have to Google it later.
“I dropped my stuff,” I pointed to the mess, giving him a ‘duh’ look.
“Do you enjoy pissing me off? You’ve only been here two days and it seems to be a hobby of yours!”
His nostrils flared with anger and his blonde hair stuck up wildly around his head—like he’d been running his fingers through it repeatedly.
“Oh yes,” I smiled slowly, “it fills my heart to be yelled at by men I don’t know. Thanks for fulfilling my fetish.”
He narrowed his eyes—eyes that I couldn’t help but notice held an underlying sadness.
“You’re a smart mouth, you know that, right?”
“I’ve heard that before,” I told him, bending to pick up the box that contained my cupcakes and the now empty cup of coffee.
“One of these days, I’m going to shut you up.” Smirking, he tilted his head and added, “I promise you’ll enjoy my methods.”
I wasn’t surprised when the door closed and he was gone.
It didn’t take long to learn that Caelan always got the last word.
⌘⌘⌘
I woke up the next morning with nervous butterflies assaulting my stomach.
Day Three of my new life meant Day One of my new job.
Griffin had grabbed my arm before I left the shop yesterday, telling me to be in by ten in the morning.
That was completely doable.
He hadn’t told me about a dress code though. Based on his casual attire, I assumed there wasn’t one. None of the other people working there had been dressed a certain way.
After my shower I dressed in a pair
of jeans and a white tank top with a worn blue plaid shirt thrown over top—it was my go to comfort outfit.
If Griffin wanted me to change, I was within walking distance of the apartment and could run home.
After my necessary cup of black coffee I cuddled Brutus for a few minutes before heading to work. I slung my cross-body leather and tie-dye fringe purse over my shoulder, and blew a kiss to Brutus who was rolling around on the floor pawing a dust bunny.
I stopped, eyeing Caelan’s door. A sly grin spread over my face. Feeling like a mischievous child, I took two steps and leaned forward, rapping my fist sharply against the door.
I heard him cussing, and then something went crashing to the ground.
I ran down the hall and descended into the stairwell. I peeked around the corner to see him come busting into the hallway. He looked left, then right, and upon seeing no one slammed the door closed.
I couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled out of my throat.
I didn’t know why I enjoyed tormenting Caelan so much. There was something about him that I just couldn’t help but push. I liked to make him tick. I was sure that meant I was a bad person, but I didn’t really care.
With a smile on my lips, and a bounce in my step, I made my way to Griffin’s.
Upon entering, a bell above the door dinged cheerily.
“Sutton!” Griffin waved from behind the counter he was currently wiping down with a damp rag. He tossed the rag over his shoulder and waved me behind the counter.
“I hope what I’m wearing is okay,” I was quick to tell him, “you didn’t mention a dress code, so…” I trailed off, shrugging my shoulders.
“You’re fine like that,” he said gruffly. Clearing his throat, he said, “You know I’m Griffin, but you can call me Griff. My wife, Laura, and I own this place…obviously. The place has really expanded in the last few years,” he shrugged his wide shoulders. “Started out as a coffee shop, now we serve food, and even alcohol,” he winked. “The stage is back there,” he pointed to a slightly hidden part of the restaurant from my vantage point. “It draws quite a crow. Plus, we’re open twenty-four hours a day to cater to the college kids. So, I’ve had to suck it up and hire more people. That’s where you come in,” he winked. “The hours I’ll need you will be kind of random. Are you okay working late?”
Beauty in the Ashes Page 3