Mia Found (Starting Fires Book 3)

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Mia Found (Starting Fires Book 3) Page 19

by Makenzie Smith


  Paul’s chuckle was sad. “Yeah. Besides the obvious.”

  “I’m going to miss him,” I said. “I never had a dog growing up. He’s exactly what I would want my dog to be like.”

  “He is your dog,” he said.

  I grinned. It was sweet, even if it wasn’t the truth. “How long have you had him?”

  “He was a rescue. I bought him not long before we started dating. He’s known me about as long as he has you.”

  I went up to an elbow. “Really?” I’d assumed Paul bought him when he was a puppy.

  “Yeah. I’ve always thought of him as ‘our’ dog.”

  I groaned. “Now I feel like I’m abandoning him.”

  “Does that mean you’ll stay? Because if it does, I would have mentioned it sooner.”

  My lip pouted out in a sad smile. “No, I can’t stay.”

  Paul sighed. “I start work on Monday, so it’ll be hectic for a while, but within a few weeks I should be able to come back home.”

  “I’ll be waiting for you.”

  The next day we went out for breakfast. Paul took me down to the beach, but neither of our hearts were in it. The clear water’s splendor had lost its beauty under our melancholy moods.

  To brighten my spirits, he made an afternoon picnic for us in the backyard and we lay on a few towels to watch the sky. His hand stayed in mine and we purposefully didn’t discuss my inevitable departure. It was remarkable what you were capable of avoiding if the desire was strong enough.

  Our cocoon grew. The sounds of the birds in the trees and the gentle swish of cars passing on the street provided a peaceful ambiance. It was just us.

  The creaking of his back fence had us jerking up. We watched intently as someone made their way around the side of the house. I expected an elderly neighbor with cookies, not Liza.

  “Paul!” she called. “Garrett told me you moved in. I thought I’d come by to…Oh.” She noticed me and her face fell. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you’d have company.”

  “It’s Mia,” Paul said, rising from the grass. “She came over with me.”

  “Mia? Is she moving, too?”

  Why didn’t Liza ever look at me when she spoke? She could have asked me directly, but instead pretended I wasn’t even there.

  “No,” I said. “Just saying goodbye.”

  Her smile returned. “Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude. How embarrassing. Walking right into a breakup.”

  Paul chuckled in disbelief. “Not goodbye forever,” he said. “She’s heading back tonight. It’ll be a few weeks before we see each other again.”

  Liza’s play at sympathy didn’t fool me. “That sucks. I’m sure it will all work out. Anyway, I brought something for you.”

  “Okay.” Paul helped me from the grass and we went inside. She left to return to her car and I narrowed my eyes at Paul. “What?” he asked.

  “Does she…have a thing for you?”

  His face contorted as if he’d never even entertained that thought. “I don’t think so. We work together a lot, but I don’t think she even likes me.”

  It was the truth from his mouth, but still a lie. Paul might not see it yet, but her affection was clear. Before I could question him further, she came in with a wrapped box.

  “Here,” Liza said, smiling as she handed it over.

  She bought him a housewarming present? I hadn’t even thought of that.

  “Oh,” Paul said. “Thanks, Liza.” While she watched, he opened it, revealing a fancy set of wine glasses. “This is great. I don’t think I have any.”

  He didn’t. I’d packed his entire kitchen myself.

  “I didn’t think so,” she grinned. “Bachelors never think of that sort of thing. Anyway, now you have some for when, uh, company comes over.”

  One company. One person. You. Don’t even think about it Liza. Besides, he wasn’t a “bachelor.” I had half a mind to offer to put them away, accidentally letting them slip through my fingers on the way to the cupboard.

  Paul placed them on the counter. “Well, Mia’s plane is leaving soon. We need to get her ready. Thanks for coming by.”

  Liza’s mouth moved in a minuscule pout before she smiled. “Of course. I’ll see you on Monday.”

  After the door closed behind her, I crossed my arms over my chest. “I don’t like her.”

  “No one does,” Paul said, spinning me around and lifting me into the air. We had 2 hours before I had to leave, and he carried me to his mattress, making all thoughts of her dissipate.

  At 5 p.m. he drove me to the airport and walked with me to the security check-in.

  “Call me when you land,” he said.

  I nodded, fighting off the tears.

  “And I, uh, I got you something.” Nervously, he handed me a rectangular box. We scooted away from the line and I opened it. Inside was a silver chain with three stones individually hanging from it. One was an amethyst. One a garnet. And the last an emerald.

  Curious, I looked up at him.

  “Birthstones,” he said. “Mine, yours, and Ferdinand’s. Well, the best we can guess at Ferdinand’s. His previous owners weren’t sure.”

  I hugged him so fiercely he rocked back. “It’s perfect. I’ll wear it every day.”

  “I love you,” he whispered into my ear.

  “I love you, too.”

  After a few tears, I pulled away and went through security without looking back. I couldn’t.

  My mother picked me up from the airport and scoffed at my red-rimmed eyes. “Relax, honey,” she said. “The way you’re carrying on, you’d think you were never gonna see him again.”

  “Just take me home,” I told her, my hand clutching the stones at my neck.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  AS PROMISED, PAUL ANSWERED his phone every time I called. He responded to my text messages within minutes. Usually, he was busy and couldn’t talk for long, but still…he made the time.

  Faeries and Moonbeams was in the dead season. For months we’d be skirting along the red. I knew what that meant. Gladys would have no choice but to cut my hours. My motivation to find a job couldn’t be stronger. I was willing to take anything, but everywhere I applied wasn’t hiring.

  My mother let me wallow in grief for a few days before it was “time I earned my keep.” Even though I was hardly there, I was tasked with doing all the dishes, cleaning both bathrooms, sweeping, and vacuuming. I understood the need for responsibility, but she was certainly taking advantage of my predicament.

  I didn’t dare complain. After my first mouthy protest she glared right at me and said, “Mia Lucille, this wouldn’t be happening had you taken a more practical major. How many times did I tell you? And now look at you. Forced to move back home and…”

  I’d huffed and walked away, and didn’t need to be reminded again. Instead, I shut my mouth and did what she wanted.

  “It’s awful,” I told Paul late Friday night. He’d been gone for a week, and my transition hadn’t gone well.

  “Something will turn up,” he said. “I can ask around or…Mia…I don’t mind giving you money once a month if you can be happy. Really. It’s not a burden. I want to do it.”

  I sighed. “No. It–it makes me feel weird.” We fell silent, both trying to solve my problem. After a moment, I grew tired of focusing so much on myself. “How was your first week?”

  “Not bad,” he said. “I have an advantage since I’ve been helping them. I know their system and already have a good relationship with the clients. But…it’s a lot. Maybe a little more than I thought I was taking on.”

  “More than it was just being here?”

  “Yeah. I’ll be working 60 hour weeks for a while. Once I catch up it will be better though.”

  “Does that mean…?” If he told me he couldn’t come home…

  “Don’t worry. I’ll be back in two weeks,” he said. “I’ve already told them I can’t work that weekend.”

  I released a breath. “Good. I don’t kn
ow if I could make it longer than that.”

  He chuckled. “I miss you, too, Pretty.”

  After we said our goodbyes, I clutched a pillow to my chest and pretended it was him.

  A week and a half had gone by and I was crouched over the computer at work, reading my emails. Another résumé had gone nowhere. Gladys was out purchasing more meditation candles and I was alone. Less than five people had been in today and I glanced at the cash drawer. Only two bought something. In truth, Gladys couldn’t afford me anymore.

  Just after lunch, a well to do woman walked in. Her hair was pulled back in a tight bun and her classy pencil skirt and pearls made her look completely out of place in this swanky shop. We specialized in bohemian attire or big, blousy shirts. Our jewelry was nearly all made from rocks or handcrafted from local artisans.

  I smiled. “Can I help you find something?”

  She pursed her lips as she eyed our wares. “Maybe,” she said. “I’m looking for some new and interesting artwork to put up in my bar. Doesn’t seem like you sell that sort of thing. But I like these.” She gestured to two of my paintings hanging on the wall.

  One was a tall tree, the leaves all different colors. The other was the profile of a woman, her head flicked back with her multicolored hair flying behind her. Gladys had said they looked good together.

  “Those are mine,” I said. “I mean, I’m the artist.”

  “Really?” She smiled at me. “Do you have more?”

  “A few. What sort of thing are you looking for?”

  “Anything really. I just purchased this bar up the road. It was called Cowboys. We’re doing a revamp of it. I’d like to give it a facelift, bring in musicians, serve premium beverages, that sort of thing. This area is seriously lacking in decent bars.”

  “I just graduated,” I said. “I’m an art major.” I don’t know why I told her that, but I crossed my fingers and hoped it would mean something to her.

  “Do you own this establishment?”

  I grinned. “No ma’am. I worked for Gladys through school and now until I find a permanent position somewhere.”

  She brought a finger to her chin and tapped it while she thought about something. “Hmm. I’ll be back later,” she said and turned to leave, but whipped around before making out the door. “Ah, hell. Why not? Would you like to design the interior for the new bar? Being an art major, you have to be more experienced than I am. And what are you? 25? I could use someone around your age to help scout bands.”

  “Uh.” I fumbled for words like an idiot. “What does it pay?”

  Her lips worked around as she thought it over. “$15 dollars an hour.”

  What? That was too good to be true. “Yes,” I said. “Absolutely. I’d love to.”

  We shook on it and exchanged numbers. I would start the next day.

  My new employer was named Tanya and she might have had a drinking problem. You’d never know looking at her, but when I arrived at the bar the next afternoon, I noticed a tiny flask in her purse. She took it out every so often for tiny sips. She was perfectly content to let me choose the art and layout for her new bar, Savage Noble.

  I suggested contacting Catherine at Atlantis to see if any of her artist would be willing to showcase their work for free publicity. Tanya loved the idea. Catherine did, too. Tanya let me pick the paintings, trusting my “artistic eye,” and I went over possible table placements with her.

  It took most of the afternoon, but we spent a little more time discussing my job at finding bands. She planned to have one play every Friday and Saturday night and my job would be to locate them, convince them to play for a small payout, and then ensure everything ran smoothly during their show.

  I left smiling.

  With this added income, I would be able to leave my parents’ house. It wasn’t the amazing, everything I could ever dream of job, but it was a job. I couldn’t afford to be choosy.

  Paul flew in the following night and I couldn’t wait to fill him in on my news. He was staying at a hotel over the weekend and my parents grumbled and complained.

  “It’s not right, Mia,” my mother had said. “Staying at a hotel with a man. What will people think?”

  Whatever they want. He certainly wasn’t going to bed down there. We’d have zero privacy.

  Late that night, he arrived at my parent’s house to pick me up. I rushed out the front door before he even stepped out of the car.

  We met in the yard and I jumped into his arms. Paul caught me effortlessly and held me close. “God, I missed the way you smell,” he said. “My pillows don’t do it justice.”

  I showered his face with kisses. “I miss everything about you.”

  Our lips met and my mother yelled from the porch. “Paul? Is that you, honey? Come on in and get a bite to eat.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said, setting my feet back on the ground. I grasped his arm as we walked into the house, unable to part from his touch. While he ate, I doted on him, running my fingers through his hair, resting my head on his shoulder. My hands kept touching new parts of him—his leg, his arm, his face.

  “Mia, let the boy eat,” my mother said and Paul chuckled.

  “Trust me, I don’t mind.”

  “Well, you’re not going anywhere for the next ten minutes. Besides, Mia, don’t you have something you want to tell him?” My mother’s eyebrows rose with a gleam.

  I’d wanted it to be a surprise. I’d had it all planned out, but now Paul looked over at me, his mouth full of food as he chewed. “What is it? Did something happen?”

  “Well.” I rolled my eyes at my mother and smiled at him. “I got a job. A pretty decent one. With it and my current one, I’ll be able to get my own place again.”

  “That’s great, Pretty! Where is it?”

  “This new bar opening up. They want me to hire bands and handle all the musical acts coming in. I know it’s not necessarily in my field, but it pays well.”

  “No, it’s wonderful!” His smile was big and bright. “You’ll be great at it.”

  When his belly was full to my mother’s liking, we bid her farewell. My father was mysteriously absent, likely because he didn’t want to know I was leaving to spend the night with a man. Some things never change.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  OUR WEEKEND COULDN’T HAVE been more perfect. I still had to work at both my jobs, but Paul came with me. At Faeries and Moonbeams he followed me around, affectionately touching me as often as he could. I didn’t even care what the customers thought. He was making up for lost time and I adored it.

  “How long do you have to work there?” I asked him while he was distracted. He was standing behind me, running his fingers through my hair.

  “In Florida?” Paul asked.

  “Mmhmm.” He’d never told me, only mentioned trying to get out of the contract if I wanted him to.

  His hand stilled and he cleared his throat. “Two years.”

  My inhale was sharp.

  “I’ve been looking over the contract,” he rushed out. “Trying to find a way out of it. I’m an idiot, Mia. When I saw what they were offering, I–I didn’t even question it. I’d get a change of scenery, something more challenging, and you wouldn’t have to worry about a job like you are now. You could have taken your time, found something that suited you. Trust me, I know how stupid that was.”

  “What did they offer you?”

  He cleared his throat again. “$20,000 sign on and an end of the year bonus every subsequent year. Plus a relocation fee.”

  “Geez,” I said, flipping around to face him. “How good of an accountant are you?”

  Paul chuckled. “I’m pretty good.”

  My smile was sad and I looked to my fingers, toying with them. “Two years, huh?”

  “A lot can change in two years,” he said, rubbing my shoulder.

  A lot could. And not in the sense that he meant.

  “Don’t give up on me,” Paul said. “I won’t give up on you.”

  He k
issed me, but we pulled apart as a customer came in. Our future seemed so hazy. Gray. Nothing was certain and it scared me. But one thing was—I wasn’t giving up on Paul.

  Savage Noble wasn’t open but we drove by so I could show off what I’d done and get Paul’s opinion. He loved the art wall. At least ten different painters donated their work, and I meticulously placed them. Paul said it looked like a museum and it made me blush. The side room was open to the main bar, the stage being located there. It wasn’t a large stage, but it made it more intimate. Tanya was going to let me design it exactly how I wanted and I planned to remove the harsh lighting, replacing it with something softer.

  It was going to look classy, just as she wanted.

  “When I come back are you even going to have time for me?” he asked, smiling. “This is all great, Mia. Wonderful. I’m so happy for you.”

  His plane left the following night and we opted to stay in his hotel room instead of going out. We ordered room service, and cuddled in bed.

  “Next time you visit, I might have my own place,” I said. “We can stay there.”

  “Mmmm,” he said, rolling over and slipping his hand down my pajamas. “I don’t know how long I’ll be able to stay gone. This…you…How am I going to do it? How did I even manage before you?”

  I smiled through my moan. Often, I’d thought the same thing. If Paul wasn’t near, everything felt empty. His presence gave everything substance. Meaning. “I love you,” I whispered, clutching his wrist, begging him not to stop.

  He didn’t say it back, but his eyelids drooped and his mouth went to my shoulder, kissing its way to my neck. I came apart under his fingers and then again when he ripped off my pants and pushed inside me.

  Despite how frantic and desperate we should have been, both of us relished the slowness of it, the soft, steady progression. Our legs and arms tangled as we said how desperately we missed the other. Not with words—only the truth of our bodies.

  It lasted for hours and I slept more peacefully than I had in weeks with Paul curled up behind me.

 

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