by Sidney Ayers
Truth be told, her dad would have supported her in whatever career she chose. Unfortunately, he’d passed away before he got the chance to see her succeed. “Dad knew I wanted to be a cosmetologist. He respected me for making my own decision. You’re the only one who wanted me to go to med school.”
Once Victoria Gregory got started, there was no stopping her. “But you could’ve done so much more with your life.”
“For the five-millionth time, I enjoy it.” Lucy annunciated the sentence with slow deliberateness, making sure she caught every last word.
“You know,” she continued, now that she had her mother’s attention. “I’d rather butcher someone’s bangs than butcher their insides. ‘Oh dear, Mr. Johnson,’” she said in a mock-concerned voice. “‘I’m sorry, but I cut a little too deep. Don’t worry. It’s only your liver; it’ll grow back.’”
Then again there were women like her mother, who’d rather get their liver cut out than live with a hack-job haircut.
“Lucia Anne Gregory!” Her mom chided. “That wasn’t funny at all.”
Lucy shrugged, pushing the empty glass to the side. Too bad it was a work night. She wouldn’t have minded slamming a few more of them down. “I wasn’t trying to be funny. I was making a point. The point went sailing over your head.”
Her mom opened her mouth to speak, but at that precise time the waitress appeared with their order. Thank goodness for talented waiters and waitresses. The young woman pulled out a stand and set the tray down. An array of different concoctions, from entrees to desserts to a rainbow of beverages, blanketed it. It always amazed her how they could balance such a large tray with a single hand. Lucy wouldn’t have survived the first day on the job. She would have been feeding the floor more than the customers.
“Who ordered the tequila-lime roasted chicken?” the young girl asked with a cheery smile, her light blonde ponytail bouncing behind her.
She held the plate out and Lucy’s mouth watered. A huge golden brown chicken breast surrounded by myriad gold, blue, and red tortilla strips. If arranging a plate were an art form, the chef would have given da Vinci a run for his money. If she wasn’t hungry earlier, she was now.
“Me!” Lucy said with eager excitement. She drooled. Steam rose from the succulent chicken as the waitress placed the order in front of Lucy. “Here you are.” Then she placed Mrs. Gregory’s grilled dijon-crusted salmon in front of her. Picking up the empty glass, she asked, “Would you like another?”
“No, but I wouldn’t mind just a straight Diet Coke this time. The captain tells me I need to drink responsibly.”
The waitress giggled and nodded. “Sure thing.” After seeing to Mrs. Gregory’s coffee, she scurried off.
This was the time Lucy most enjoyed with Mom. Stuffing food in their mouths, so they didn’t have to talk much, and limiting that bit of conversation to the food on the plates. “How’s the salmon?” Lucy asked as she cut into her succulent chicken.
Pulling a tiny piece of bone from her mouth, her mom shrugged. “Dry and bony. And this rice pilaf needs some more flavor.” Maybe she should be happy she wasn’t the only thing her mom disapproved of.
“That’s too bad,” Lucy said, picking a piece of chicken with her fork. With as much gusto as she could muster, she took a bite. Mmm. Her favorite. Tangy bursts of tequila, lime, cilantro, and spices exploded in her mouth. Closing her eyes, Lucy savored each bite.
“If chicken is sex, then this is the best orgasm ever.” Dang. Did I just say that out loud? Hearing her mom’s soft gasp, she held back the urge to chuckle. Yep, I did.
What was the deal with the sudden hormone rush? First Serah’s chest? Now the chicken at McIntosh’s? She wasn’t even a food-and-sex kind of gal. With a sheepish blush, Lucy set down her fork. “Sorry. It’s really good.”
“Hush. We’re in public,” her mom huffed, then plucked a steamed carrot from her plate. “At least the carrots are palatable.”
Bet you wished you ordered the chicken. Chuckling, Lucy dipped her fork into some pico de gallo.
Mom threw her napkin down on the table. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing. Let’s just eat.” Sighing, Lucy picked at the festive display of tortilla strips and dipped them into a side of spicy black bean dip. This was the life. With a sigh of deep contentment, she sat back and enjoyed the meal. If this is what dinner did to her, she didn’t want to know what dessert would do.
Heck, she’d have that dessert. Besides, it would be fun to give Meg Ryan in When Harry Met Sally a run for her money and freak the crap out of her mom. Lucy turned to scan the restaurant for the waitress when something caught the corner of her eye. What the heck?
Across the restaurant stood a solitary figure draped in a long billowing black robe, with a hood covering most its face. The hairs rose on the back of her neck and her pulse raced. Stomach clenching in knots, she continued to stare. People bustled about, chatting, drinking, and eating while this thing just stood there in the shadows. Didn’t anyone see him? Blinking, she rubbed her eyes and turned to her mom. “Whoa! Look at that.”
Her mom arched a brow and set down her coffee cup. “At what?”
“That!” She pointed and turned back to the shadowy figure. But, lo and behold, it was gone. Mom was right about one thing. She needed rest.
The blonde bouncy waitress appeared with dessert menus. Instantly, Lucy’s salivary glands—along with her stupid hormones—kicked into overdrive.
She would rest after a huge helping of chocolate lava cake.
***
Revitalized by a sudden burst of sugar and espresso, Lucy fumbled with the keys to the shop. Cold gusts of December air flicked her face, sending shivers through her body. Serah would be meeting her later and she needed to catch up on some paperwork anyway. Hopefully, Serah would arrive sooner rather than later, so they could open the box and be done with it. She cracked her knuckles as an odd sense of excitement coursed through her body.
Taking confident strides into the building, she held her head high and allowed the tingles to tease her skin, oblivious to the swirling snow around her. She ran her fingers through her hair and stretched.
Heading to the back office, she recalled the strange events of the day. From Gerardo’s photography, to the almost-orgasm from touching the chest, to Mrs. Carlson’s mushroom perm, to Rafe… especially Rafe.
Never had she seen eyes so silver and vibrant, even more so than the costume jewelry she sold. His glistening dark hair that danced across his shoulders, beckoning her to reach out and touch. Would he have reacted the same way he had to Gerardo? Then again having a dowdy hairstylist touching his gorgeous locks was probably the last thing Rafe wanted.
And how could she forget that body? Thick muscles straining against his T-shirt and leather pants that molded to each ripple and bulge. He radiated power, and not just the physical kind. But then he’d put Gerardo in a choke hold. Why did the drop dead sexy ones always have to be homophobes?
Settling into her office chair, she fired up her computer. The only thing she hated about running a business. Balancing the budget. Maybe someday she could hire an accountant. After a few hours of boring bookkeeping, she wanted to pound her head on the keyboard.
The sound of Justin Timberlake’s latest hit broke her thoughts. Rifling through her striped Dolce and Gabbana purse, she searched for her cell phone. Curse Serah for buying her such a gi-normous purse. It was so huge; she could’ve stuffed the Statue of Liberty in it and still had room for the Eiffel Tower.
Flipping up the receiver, she answered the phone. “Hello?”
“Open up. I’m waiting in the back.” Serah’s voice, full of urgency, echoed in her ear. “I think someone’s following me and it’s freezing out here.”
Lucy chuckled. “Please! You think everyone’s following you. It’s just some weird chest, not the Arc of the Covenant, for God’s sake.”
Something deep inside nagged at her, but Lucy ignored it. She wanted to open this box. At first it wa
s to prove Serah wrong, but now something else drove her. Something dark and dangerous. Maybe opening this chest wasn’t such a good idea after all.
“So are you going to let me in or what?” Serah huffed with obvious irritation. “It’s kind of hard standing here with a huge chest in my arms. Thank God for Bluetooth.” A loud clunk soon followed. “Just let me in.” The phone went dead.
Flinging her phone back into the purse, Lucy trekked toward the back door. The sooner she let Serah in, the sooner they could open the chest. Then her stupid curiosity would be sated.
Serah’s pounding, followed by a groan, came muffled through the door. “Stupid box. Ugh.”
“I’m coming!” Lucy said in the most annoying singsong voice she could muster. From the sounds of Serah’s grunts and grumbles, she was none too pleased. With a wide smile, Lucy threw open the door. Serah stood there glowering, the chest propped atop her pink Jimmy Choo-clad foot.
“It’s about time,” Serah grumbled, pulling her foot from under the chest. With another loud grumble, she kicked it. “Ouch.”
Lucy shook her head and chuckled. “Then don’t kick it.”
With an irritated huff, Serah hobbled into the shop. “Seriously. This thing isn’t worth the trouble. I’d return it if I could.”
“Why can’t you?” She reached down to collect Serah’s forgotten chest and followed her inside.
Serah plopped down into one of the dryer seats and pulled her shoes off. “The guy said, ‘No returns.’ He seemed pretty eager to part with it.”
“So you don’t want to open it anymore?” Leave it to Serah to deflate her eager curiosity. “This was supposed to be the highlight of my evening.”
Serah chuckled. “Yeah, I know you want to burst the bubble in my overly active imagination.”
“Something like that,” Lucy fibbed. Her reasons now went deeper than that. Something about the chest had put her curiosity into overdrive. “To be honest, I thought it’d be kind of fun, like we were in grade school again.”
Flailing her mangled Jimmy Choo in the air, Serah sucked in a deep breath. “Do you know how much these cost me?”
“More than your über-expensive box?” Lucy asked, arching a brow.
Serah took an exhausted breath. “Okay, fine. You got me there. I exaggerated on the box. I got a deal. The guy couldn’t wait to get rid of it.”
“Yeah, a pentagram on the top of a box tends to do that to people,” Lucy added matter-of-factly.
Serah shrugged. “I didn’t see the pentagram until you pointed it out. The only visible thing was the inscription.” Her gaze grew serious. “I know you think I’m a loon, but maybe we should just forget it. I can put it on eBay.”
“Yeah, you do that. I’d hate to see the freaks who’d bid on that thing.” Then again, she was the freak who itched to open it. “Well, it’s here now, so why don’t we just have some fun?”
Serah shifted in the chair and blew out a deep breath. “Fine. I Googled the eclipse. It’s supposed to happen just around two-thirty.”
“In the morning?” Lucy craned her head toward the clock on the wall. One a.m.? “Time flies when you’re not having fun.”
“Yeah?” Her friend arched a brow. “That’s why I have an accountant to handle my books. I hate math.”
“You and me both.” Lucy plopped into a chair next to her and stretched her legs. “I don’t have enough business to hire one yet.”
Serah grinned. “Soon, girl. Trust me. I’m sending a few of my best clients your way.”
“That’s awesome.” Knowing the type of clients Serah’s catering business had, Lucy could make a killing. Then again Mrs. Carlson was one of her clients. Yippee! “Just make sure they aren’t Mrs. Carlson’s cronies.”
Serah shook her head and snorted. “That old bat? I dropped her as a client. Way too demanding. You’d think it was her wedding. I swear she sprouted horns when I walked in earlier. You’re so lucky you dumped him.”
Why did everyone think she broke it off? “It was mutual. We dumped each other.” Raking fingers through her hair, Lucy looked out the front window. Her loud gasp echoed through the empty shop. The faint light of the moon trickled in. An eerie blood red hue surrounded the slowly eclipsing moon. If only she had a camera. Where was Gerardo when you needed him?
“Check that out!” Lucy pointed at the creepy moon.
Serah stared, transfixed, at the reddish orb. “Amazing! Are you ready to do this or what?”
“I thought you didn’t want to do it anymore?”
Lips curved into a wide grin, Serah shrugged. “Like you said. It’ll be a big sleepover, like in junior high.”
“Okay!” Lucy leapt from the chair and skipped toward the box. Maybe she was taking this junior high thing way too seriously. Lugging the chest to the center of the room, she allowed the tingles, no longer painful, to fill her body. She threw her head back and allowed the current to race through her veins. It felt so good.
“Lucy!” Serah’s shout broke her daydream. “What the heck?”
With heavy reluctance, Lucy pulled her hands from the box. Wiping her damp brow, she turned to face her friend. “I told you it shocks me whenever I touch it.”
“Shock?” Serah chuckled. “You looked like you were enjoying it. If that’s electrocution, sign me up.”
Now Serah thought she was into that kinky shit. Then again, Josh did say she was “too wild.” How much fun was the missionary position all the time? Sex should be fun and adventurous, not the same ole, same ole. What would’ve happened if she’d pulled out the Kama Sutra? A coronary, probably. Quite a feat for a thirty-something cardiologist.
His idea of fun was jogging five miles a day, and the most excitement she got from him was necking in a movie theater. Call security! Then again, maybe that’s how he kept his ticker healthy. Recalling the many times she’d tried to spice up Josh’s dull life over the years, she allowed a devious smile to curve her lips.
Serah cleared her throat. “What’s on your mind?”
“Nothing. Just recalling my life with Josh.”
She threw her head back in laughter. “You mean lack of life.” She smiled, her gaze warm. “Trust me, Lucy. He gets it from his mom. Be very happy.”
“Hello! It’s been five years. I’m over him.” Enough was enough. “I’m happier than ever.”
“It’s just that you haven’t dated since him.” Serah squatted down next to her. “People talk, you know.”
None of the men in this suburban hellhole held that spark of life Lucy needed, and it irritated her beyond reason. And, to her utter chagrin, the first spark ever had to come from a homophobic ass-crack. Lucky me!
Lucy put on a mask of indifference. She ground her teeth and her heart thudded. Gripping her fists tightly, she turned to her friend, her gaze ready to burn. “Let them talk.” Her voice came out deep and gravelly, almost inhuman.
Serah jumped back, her eyes filled with alarm. “You know, maybe we should call it a night. You’re obviously stressed or in need of something else.”
“Let’s not talk about my love life, all right?” Lucy slammed her fist into her palm. What in the heck had come over her? “We came here to have fun, not argue,” she added, her voice softening.
“Deal,” Serah said offering her hand. “On one condition.”
Lucy narrowed her gaze. “Your condition?”
Serah’s mouth spread into a wide smile. “We can’t talk about mine, either.”
“Deal.” She took Serah’s hand and shook. She turned her attention back to the chest. “So let me look at that inscription again.”
After spending a half hour translating the words, they needed to choose the victim. They solved it in the easiest of ways.
“Rock. Paper. Scissors!” Serah danced around the box like a giddy schoolgirl. Then again, that was the purpose of this experiment, to relive their pre-teen years. To be honest, there wasn’t much reliving for Lucy. Her mother had kept her on lockdown for most of her junior-high year
s. But, much to her mom’s chagrin, Lucy finally rose up and put her foot down.
“Fine.” After all, it did beat a thumb war. Lucy held out her fist, waiting for her friend to return the favor. Smiling, she nudged Serah’s with her own.
“Rock, paper, scissors,” they both chanted. Lucy held her hand in perfect scissor position.
Serah, unfortunate gal, held out her paper hand. A large pout quivered on her lips as a loud whoosh of air came from her nose. “I knew I should have called rock.”
“Oh well,” Lucy said with a smirk. Glancing at the dim, reddening moon, she narrowed her eyes. “You know, the moon is getting creepier.”
“I looked up some websites earlier. That’s just the Earth’s reflection.” Serah craned her head to look. “But you’re right. It is creepy.”
“Tell me about it,” Lucy said. “So how much longer?” She snuck a glance at the chest, her gut clenching. Not in fear but something more carnal. Like it contained a treasure trove of toys, and not the kind that you give a kid. Had it been that long that she now craved inanimate objects? She needed help.
“Like now,” her friend replied. “It’s two-twenty-five, according to my watch.” Serah held up her hand and twisted her wrist, sparkles glistening against the dimmed lights of the salon. Oh brother, yet another crazy purchase. But if you have the money, you might as well spend it.
“New watch?”
Serah shrugged. “It belonged to my granny. Just wanted to wear it for some reason.”
Lucy smiled and hugged her friend, allowing her comfort. Even though her grandmother had died almost a year ago, Serah still mourned from time to time. It wasn’t her business to pry, but Serah dealt with her grief the only way she could. And truth be told, Lucy wasn’t a psychologist anyway. Much to Mom’s chagrin, of course.
“Let’s do this,” Lucy said, pulling from their friendly embrace. With a quick lick of her lips, she focused her attention back to the chest.
As if a golden orb had surrounded it, the chest glowed. Her body ignored her conscience, disregarding what she knew to be wrong or right. Lucy took slow, almost sensual, steps toward the box. Her lips spread into a devious smile as warmth enveloped her. Never had she felt so alive. Her stomach twisted in knots and her insides throbbed. She had to touch it, and no one would stop her.