The Barter System Companion: Volume One

by Shayne McClendon

  “Thank god.” He winked as he started the car. “I was worried that I’d end up mauling you in the bathroom at Bellini’s…again.”

  Her beautiful husband always made their lunches interesting. The corporate experience was rather delightful after all.

  Curb Appeal

  Dallas Suburb - May 2014

  The house was orange.

  Why was her house orange?

  Vivien Rorie slowly got out of her car and stared around her in confusion. She looked at the number on the porch. It was her house.

  When she left ten hours before, the house was the same boring white it was when she bought it last year. The painters arrived with paint from the local home store but she was gone before they applied the first drop.

  Now, she stood in her driveway in the little Dallas suburban neighborhood that was being refurbished one house at a time and blinked hard.

  It was still orange.

  One of the pleasant young men she’d met that morning came around the edge of the house with a ladder and a wave. Her face must have communicated that something wasn’t right.

  “Miss Rorie? Is something the matter?”

  Swallowing hard, she whispered, “Why is the house orange?”

  He carefully set down the ladder and put his hands on his hips. “I’m sorry. Did you ask why it was orange?” Somehow, she managed to nod. “Ma’am, this is the color reserved for you at the paint store.” The tension headache forming in her temples from the loud color solidified. “Miss Rorie, are you saying this is not the color you told them to mix for you?”

  “God, orange? No, this is not the calming latte I picked. This isn’t a color I’d pick for an umbrella…much less my home.”

  The young man closed his eyes. “Shit.” Fishing a battered cell phone from one of his pockets, he murmured, “Dad is going to skin me alive.”

  Her anxiety began to climb and she cursed the stress disorder she’d brought out of a childhood she barely survived. She tried to control her breathing, her heart rate, and her trembling. This wasn’t a situation that called for fight or flight but her mind often had a hard time telling the difference.

  “Ma’am, are you alright?”

  The grass was suddenly under her knees and she gasped for breath. Distantly, she heard a truck in the street but she knew she was dangerously close to passing out.

  “Miss Rorie!” Hands were on her arm but she couldn’t get enough air to talk.

  “Move, Thomas,” a very deep voice said beside her.

  “Miss Rorie, you’re safe. It’s going to be fine. Focus on this paver. Focus hard. See how pretty the natural design of the stone is? That reminds me of a stream through the mountains not far from here. See this ridge? I have a campsite I visit every year that sits on a little ridge like that. I go in the fall when the weather is just right.”

  The entire time he talked, he massaged her firmly between her shoulder blades.

  “Think about the atmosphere in a place like that. The cool water of the stream, the soft green of the grass, the way the birds sound. It’s so peaceful and there isn’t a thing to worry about. Just lots of greens and blues and clean air.”

  The hard band around her diaphragm began to ease. Several minutes later, she sat back on her heels and rubbed her sternum.

  “I…I’m sorry. I’m so embarrassed. It’s nothing I can’t fix. It’s nothing I can’t control. I’m sorry.”

  A large presence moved beside her and suddenly Vivien was on her feet.

  Turning, she took in the stocky man beside her.

  He was barrel chested, wearing work coveralls, and had skin the color of coffee with a dash of cream. He was very thick all over with huge hands, a few inches taller than she was but probably outweighed her by a hundred pounds. He had the kindest, gentlest dark brown eyes she’d ever seen and coarse close-cropped hair.

  For his size, he wasn’t the least bit threatening and she took a deep breath.

  “I’m Jed Andrews, Miss Rorie. I’m Thomas’s father and the owner of the company.” She nodded and held out her hand. He took it carefully in his and she noticed how warm and calloused it was. “Better?”

  His smile was bright white, without a trace of mockery.

  She found herself saying quietly, “I’m alright. Orange isn’t so bad.” Vivien felt foolish and self-conscious.

  Her red hair tended to frizz, she was covered head to toe in freckles, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t hide all the scars from the plate glass window her father threw her through when she was thirteen.

  Jed gave her a bigger grin that showed off dimples in his cheeks. “Actually, ma’am, it’s hideous. It doesn’t suit you a bit.” He tilted his head. “I came by after the boys finished the first coat. I should’ve known it wasn’t right.”

  “How would you know?”

  “You have bird feeders and a little garden. All your little spaces are calm and filled with natural colors. This isn’t a calm color.”

  “I should’ve picked up the paint.”

  “Six five-gallon buckets?” There was a small shake of his head. “That wouldn’t have worked.” He gave her a quick glance and she knew he could tell she wasn’t physically strong.

  She could fight now but no matter how she tried, upper body strength never developed. She was gangly and too thin all over.

  Matchstick was her father’s favorite nickname for her. It flitted through her mind and made her blush brightly.

  “You don’t need to worry. We’ll do the primer-coat tomorrow; be back the day after to repaint. That sound alright?”

  “Yes. Thank you.”

  Jed looked at Thomas and said quietly, “Leave the ladders and supplies stacked neatly in the back. You and Walter grab the primer from my van so you have it in the morning.”

  Thomas gave a thumbs-up and went back the way he’d come when she arrived, the ladder in his hands again. For a long moment, she stared at the grass between Jed’s feet.

  “How did you know? What was happening?”

  “I was in the Army for twenty years. I’ve seen a lot of post-traumatic stress.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, Miss Rorie.”

  “Vivien. My…my name is Vivien.”

  “You’re welcome, Vivien.”

  The way her name sounded when he said it was almost magical. It rolled off his tongue smooth and easy, as if he’d used it a thousand times before. For the first time, she fully met his gaze.

  “You have incredibly pretty blue eyes.”

  It was strange to think she could’ve reached thirty years old and never had a man pay her such a compliment. It was something she’d never really thought about until it happened.

  She worked as the inventory manager for a large container company. Her workdays were spent alone in her small office, calculating warehouse supply, scheduling staff, logging deliveries, and making orders. She rarely talked to anyone. Men found her boring and women found her odd.

  Vivien knew she was both but she didn’t want to be.

  “Thank you.” Her blush worsened. She could feel it.

  He looked at her and she wondered if he saw the unattractive, lonely, frightened person she was or if maybe he saw that she wanted to be interesting, she wished she was pretty, and there were so many things she needed to know, to experience, in her life before there came a day when she simply didn’t see the point anymore.

  “Vivien, would you like to go for a cup of coffee? It’s going to take the guys another hour to finish. There’s a little diner two blocks away. We could walk if you wanted.”

  “I…I’d like coffee.”

  Ten minutes later, they sat across from one another in a booth made for the big construction men that were common here over the last few months.

  Her side had a broken spring and she sank even lower. She must have looked like a little girl compared to him. Hands clasped in her lap, the knuckles probably white, she gave the waitress her order.

 
As the woman walked away, Jed slid from his booth and gestured for her to stand. When she did, he gently nudged her into his side of the booth and sat where she’d been sitting.

  “Now I feel like we can see one another more evenly.”

  This time, when she smiled it was with her entire face. “You’re very good at reading people, Jed.”

  “I hope so, Vivien.”

  For almost an hour, he drew her out in conversation. Eventually, he told her they should eat since it was getting late. One hour turned into more than three.

  She couldn’t remember ever having a conversation with another human being in all her life for three hours.

  What most surprised her is what she told him.

  How her mother died giving birth and her father despised her for surviving. The last attack that almost killed her and the many foster homes she lived in until she graduated high school.

  There was no other family, no friends.

  She hadn’t been to college but she took classes at the local vocational school. She’d been at her job for ten years and most people didn’t know her name. Some didn’t even know she worked there.

  Jed listened and asked her questions to keep her talking.

  “Why do you want to know about me?” She wasn’t trying to be coy. She didn’t understand why anyone would give up their evening to spend it with a stranger in such a way.

  He leaned forward and crossed his arms on the table. “I want to know because you garden. I want to know because you have a dozen squirrel and bird feeders throughout your yard and there are two feral stray cats you feed on your back porch.”

  One large hand reached out and untangled hers. He held them gently, stroking his calloused thumb over her knuckles.

  “I want to know the woman who has death in her eyes but fights with everything she has to surround herself with life, with beauty, with positive things.” She shook her head and he squeezed her hand. “A woman like you is worth knowing, Vivien. I want to take my time and get to know you.”

  A million things went through her head.

  All the reasons she should tell him to run away from her, that she was too messed up, that he was wasting his time and wouldn’t end up liking her anyway.

  Instead, she looked into his eyes. They were steady and confident and kind and she wondered if maybe he could show her how to take the death out of hers.

  “Alright.”

  Moth to Flame

  New York City – August 2014

  Elijah Eklund stared at her from across the room.

  Glossy black curls surrounded her, black eyes sparkling. She wore very little makeup and her blue-black dress was simple, elegant in design. Very little skin was exposed but the caramel tone made him wonder at her ethnicity.

  Tracking the room for the man he protected, his eyes were continually drawn to her.

  She was lovely, different in a way he didn’t understand. He was curious about her and it wasn’t an emotion he typically experienced.

  There was no doubt Harper felt curiosity in regards to her as well. Several associates approached to talk throughout the evening but his best friend’s attention was continually drawn to the woman.

  His frown professed he didn’t appreciate her allure.

  She was in physical pain. She hid it well behind smiles and conversation but Elijah could see her suffering increased as the evening wore on. He knew it was why she remained seated.

  Occasionally, the fingers of her right hand tapped lightly against her upper thigh. He wondered at the idiosyncrasy.

  Several times, Hudson Winters and his woman made their way to her side and it always made her smile brightly.

  He didn’t think they were currently lovers but perhaps had been in the past. Their familiarity and ease of physical contact declared their history.

  Elijah’s curiosity grew.

  Winters was a man he’d respected for more than twenty years. He possessed honor, as did his long-time lover. They’d officially committed to one another, evidenced by the collar Natalia wore that should’ve graced her neck many years before.

  He wondered at their protégé.

  Though Harper initially complained about the party to celebrate his long-time rival’s attainment of this building, Elijah knew he secretly applauded the purchase. He ensured they’d be stateside to attend.

  The head of Delkin Acquisitions didn’t rearrange his schedule for just anyone.

  A couple of hours into the party, Natalia took the stage and asked Winters to join her.

  A painting of the building was presented to him as a gift. Elijah knew immediately it was the young woman who painted it and understood why she tapped her fingers.

  Gabriella Hernandez.

  The talent in the piece was undeniable. Winters’ reaction to it as well. Taking in his expression, the way he bent to speak at Natalia’s ear, and his determined movement through the room, Elijah watched as the powerful man knelt at the feet of a woman unable to stand.

  His respect for Winters grew as he gently interacted with Miss Hernandez, comforted her when tears slipped over her cheeks, and worked to make her smile shyly.

  The hug he delivered was careful and Elijah wondered at her injuries. What they were and how she’d sustained them.

  Noting Harper’s intense focus when he stood, Winters sent a subtle message that she was available.

  Harper’s heartrate was elevated. He barely blinked as he tried to puzzle out the woman’s place in Winters’ life. His frown grew when she removed supplies from a bag beside her and started to sketch.

  Within minutes of her withdrawing into whatever she was drawing, Harper said quietly, “Elijah. I want to know all there is to know about Gabriella Hernandez.”

  Way ahead of you, he thought with an internal smile.

  Moving into a level position, he murmured, “She’s lovely, enchanting even.” Even knowing nothing about her, Elijah knew it was an understatement.

  “Probably a hustler. Winters’ taste in women other than the magnificent Natalia has left much to be desired.”

  Harper’s words made him bristle. Before he could reply, another voice spoke.

  “What about my taste in women, Harper?” Natalia was upset. “Brie is not a hustler. If you were to line up the people in this room, she would be the kindest, most selfless of us all.” Stepping close, she added, “Despite your history, your money, and your power…Gabriella is too good for you.”

  As she walked away, something told Elijah she was right. Women didn’t hold respectful positions in Harper’s mind.

  He judged the woman based on nothing.

  She started to turn, paused, and said over her shoulder, “You’ve been watching her all night. I came to ask if you wanted an introduction. Both of you.” Her eyes flicked to Elijah’s and away. “Now, you can fuck yourself.” Then she returned to circulating with the other guests.

  An hour later, Miss Hernandez reached a point where she could no longer hide her exhaustion and pain.

  Silently signaling another member of his security team, Elijah watched as Winters approached and lifted her into his arms. Even the careful motion forced a gasp of pain from her full lips.

  His backup appeared at his side and he took a step toward the door Winters exited as Harper said, “Follow.”

  In the parking garage, he took up a position behind a pillar.

  “Hudson, please? You can’t miss your own party. It’s too important.” Her voice was soft and warm. It made Elijah close his eyes for a moment.

  “Gabriella. I attended it,” the man replied firmly.

  “Natalia, don’t let him do this. Leo will get me home safely so you don’t have to leave. Please don’t leave for me.”

  “Darling, you’re troubled over something small. We’re happy to see you home and settled. We adore you,” the blonde said gently as she stroked black curls away from her face.

  Watching Leonard Keir take the woman in his arms made the skin on the back of Elijah’s neck tighten.r />
  It was a strange reaction.

  She smiled up at Winters’ driver and personal bodyguard. “Leo, considering how much everyone carries me, I’m really glad I lost a shit ton of weight in the hospital.”

  “You’re light as a feather,” he responded with a grin.

  “What feathers have you been hauling around?” They laughed together as he handed her into the car to a waiting Hudson and Natalia.

  Elijah gritted his teeth.

  Then he realized Leonard referred to her as Brie and the connection was suddenly there in his mind. He almost took a step from his place of concealment to introduce himself.

  Having the man he did as a father, Elijah knew little of his mother’s family. Several years before, a woman contacted him through an ancestry website claiming to be his biological mother’s niece.

  After having her checked out, he was stunned to confirm a living relative. He eventually helped her emigrate to the United States from Sweden and she attended college in Washington.

  As circumstance would have it, she spent her breaks on the Delkin estate and ended up applying and receiving an internship at a small but profitable local winery.

  One owned by the Hernandez family and managed by Brie.

  Eira spoke often, and highly, of her boss. She’d even suggested her stuffy and much older cousin would benefit from asking the woman to dinner.

  The very idea, he thought at the time.

  As Leonard closed the door and walked around the Rolls, he stared directly at Elijah over the roof. With a stern expression, he slipped into the driver’s seat.

  The car pulled away and Elijah stood thinking for a long moment before returning to the party.

  Taking up his position off Harper’s shoulder, he said, “I’ll have a full report on Gabriella Hernandez within the week.”

  “Excellent. I’ll have to smooth things over with Winters.” Straightening his jacket, he inclined his head and said softly, “Something tells me she’s worth the effort.”

  Knowing Harper’s interest was purely sexual didn’t dissuade Elijah from seeing things through.

  Gabriella. Brie. She was a mystery to him.

  From the way she seemed to glow, to the painting she’d done for Winters, he needed to know everything he could discover.