Texas and Tiaras (The Book Cellar Mysteries 2)

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Texas and Tiaras (The Book Cellar Mysteries 2) Page 14

by Melissa Storm


  Annabeth’s mouth dropped open. She was impressed, despite herself. “Wow, that’s amazing.” She peeled the paper off the muffin. “You’re really good at this stuff, Brooke. Even with everything that’s… never mind. I just mean job well done. I’m certainly impressed.” She took a nibble. Tiny crystallized sugar sweetened the tip of her tongue. Yum.

  Brooke looked up from her papers like she was waiting for the punch line. “Um… thanks?” The tension in the Queen B’s forehead relaxed and her tone softened. “So anyway… Now I need you to work on making a master guest list for the welcome table.”

  Annabeth smiled a little and flipped open her laptop, more than ready to get to work. “No problem.”

  Brooke glanced up at her once more and smiled back. For a brief moment Annabeth saw what everyone else seemed to admire in her–a woman who wanted to be noticed and appreciated. Annabeth could understand that, and a part of her wanted to give Brooke the free rein to show that side of her some more. Even if she did speak without a filter sometimes.

  Because Marcus was right—she did need them.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Vi

  Vi clenched her jaw and held onto the car door of Ligia’s SUV with a death grip. Though she’d made it over the hump of the withdrawals, she still felt queasy most days. Driving in the car with Maria Andretti didn’t help. “Slow down. The place is right up ahead.”

  Ligia switched lanes without her blinker, prompting Vi to cross herself.

  She said a quick prayer to the Virgin, then pointed to the cotton candy pink building with a sign out front. “Dancetastic. Right up—Oh, dear Lord in Heaven, protect your child.” Vi prayed and shut her eyes as Ligia pulled out in front of another car. “Pull over!”

  When Ligia finally jammed her Escalade into park, and Vi shot out. “Thanks for the ride.”

  The teen queen took out her phone and started typing furiously at the keyboard as she spoke with Vi. “Sure thing, Vi. Do you need me to wait around to take you home?”

  “No!” Her response flew out of her mouth before she could even process it. “I mean, uh...thank you for the thoughtful offer, but I don’t know how long I will be. We might all want to get together for drinks or something later and catch up, ya know? So I’ll have one of them take me home. Thanks again. Bye!”

  “Okay.” Ligia’s eyes remained glued to the phone. “Have fun.”

  Vi sighed and slung her bag over her good shoulder as she walked up to the door of the dance studio. It had been ten years since she’d last stepped inside this studio where she had danced and taught dance for most of her life. She stood on the sidewalk outside the building—frozen in place—too afraid to take that last step to go inside. For years she had thought she had closed the door to this part of her life. Now here she was right back where she’d left off. I can do this!

  “Violeta Hernandez?” A sultry voice called out to her.

  Vi turned toward the sound of her name. There, just a few yards away, stood the flower delivery man. He flashed her a wide smile that showed off his straight white teeth. Vi’s cheeks grew hot, and she glanced away.

  “I thought that was you.” He walked closer, closing the gap between them. “How are you feeling? You look much better than the last time I saw you.”

  Vi twisted the fabric of her shirt around her finger. It wasn’t every day that a handsome man gave her his attention. “I’m feeling a lot better, thank you.”

  Fernando smiled and closed the distance between them. “I’m sure a beautiful woman like yourself has a very full social calendar, but I would really like to take you out for dinner or drinks. Maybe sometime next week when you have a free night.”

  Vi’s heart flip-flopped in her chest. A date! When was the last time a man—other than Ricky—had asked her out? It had been so long ago that she’d forgotten. “That’s very sweet, but…”

  Fernando smiled. “I don’t think I can take no for an answer.”

  She laughed, a nervous laugh that took off some of the pressure she felt in saying no. “It’s a lovely offer, but I really…”

  Fernando took her hand in his. “Hey, we’re just two new friends having dinner.”

  The closeness of his body stirred the longing inside her that she tried to keep tamped down. The man’s smile alone made it difficult for her to remember her own name. How could she say no…? Just a friendly dinner. What harm could come of that?

  “Okay. I’ll have dinner with you,” she said with a bat of her eyelashes as she took his phone from his hand and punched her number into his contacts.

  “Text me the details.” She gave him back his phone and turned on her heel to go inside the studio—leaving him standing there with an amused smile on his face.

  As the door closed behind her, the realization of what she had just done hit her full force. Vi had never been forward like that before. No, that was something Brooke would have done. The thought of her former BFF brought her back down to reality. She’d have been so proud of me for stepping out of my shell for once.

  Her phone rang in her back pocket with an incoming text message. A kissy face emoticon greeted her. I can’t wait to take you out on the town. There might have to be dancing on this date/not a date.

  Vi giggled, hiding her face behind her hand. She felt like a young woman again. She ventured a glance outside and, sure enough, there he stood on the other side of the windowpane, waving at her with that tantalizing smile of his.

  “Violeta!” Her dance instructor called out to her with arms wide open.

  Vi fell into her old friend’s arms and smiled. Something inside of her was transforming; she could feel it.

  “Come, you’re going to love this class. Don’t worry about keeping up. Do what you can and take breaks when you need them. Okay?”

  Vi nodded, too afraid to speak lest she start to cry. The woman’s compassion and understanding meant a lot to her. After she left so abruptly she had thought everyone would hate her, or be disappointed in her walking away. For the first time since she quit, she wondered if that wasn’t all in her head.

  She took her space between two friendly looking women at the back of the studio.

  When the class ended forty-five minutes later, she felt exhilarated. It had been just what she needed. Something about being in the studio again had given her back a small feeling of hope and joy that she thought she’d lost forever.

  It surprised her how much her body remembered each movement as if it hadn’t been nearly ten years since she’d last set foot on stage. After the class finished, her shoulder ached, but in a less overwhelming way.

  So when her old friend, Becky, asked her to go have drinks afterward, she said yes. This new Violeta seemed open to anything. Maybe she should even try to call Brooke again… Or maybe at least a text. Vi typed quickly before she could lose her nerve.

  I hate this not talking. I know I’m the one that started it and that you are going through some stuff right now, but maybe we should talk.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Brooke

  Brooke woke to a gentle tug on her hair. What the…?

  “Auntie B! Auntie B!” Jesse’s five-year-old daughter Tristana cried. “I made you beautifuler.”

  The little girl held out a mirror to show Brooke how she had painted her face with watercolors.

  “Thank you, honey.” The result was anything but beautiful, but the smile of her new stylist made up for all of that. “Are we still on for our tea party later today?”

  “Oh, yes. Yes, yes, yes!” Tris cheered and began running around her room, gathering up stuffed animals and dolls.

  Brooke laughed. “The party isn’t until this afternoon, silly. Auntie B has some work to do first.”

  “Awww.”

  “It will be so much fun, I promise. Can you go keep Princess Tiara company while I try to wake up a bit?”

  “Okay!” Tris frolicked out of the room, leaving a trail of toys in her wake. It had been ages since Brooke had lived with a r
oommate, let alone a five-year-old. But Jesse had insisted that Brooke take his oldest daughter’s bed for the duration of her stay and let seven-year-old Ariana sleep in the living room.

  “Your stitches already look positively outraged. Let’s not anger them further if we can avoid it.” He applied a salve of Vaseline and some pleasant smelling additive to her wounds. “If I could kill that husband of yours, I would, but who would keep you company if I ended up in jail?” he joked between clenched teeth. He’d said more, but Brooke had had a difficult time paying attention, such was her fixation on the delicate brush of his fingers against her sore flesh. Somehow the pain became almost… nice.

  But that had been two days ago when she, Tiara, and her two overstuffed trash bags had arrived at the Abrahamson household to stay until she figured out a more permanent solution. Brooke had thanked the entire family profusely and done everything she could to stay out of the way, but Heather had remained cold, practiced, fake with her anyway. She said all the right things about Brooke being welcome and the family being delighted to have her for a short stay, but Brooke knew the other woman found her threatening. Every time she laughed and played with Jesse and the girls, Heather nodded curtly and turned away or suddenly had to go out on business even though night had long since fallen.

  But Brooke had much bigger problems than Heather’s callousness. Brian, for one. It was Friday now, and she still hadn’t found a way to sneak back into her home and gather the rest of her things. Brian, it seemed, had taken to working from home while he awaited her return.

  “Do I hear stirring in there?” Jesse called from the kitchen. “’Bout time, sleepy head! Come have an omelet.”

  Brooke wet a washcloth and scrubbed at her face, but little bits of color still clung to her skin, making her look more like a patchwork quilt than a beautifuler version of herself.

  “Cool new look,” Jesse said with a smile as she sat down at the counter. “I like it.”

  “Really? You don’t think it’s a bit too on the nose?” She pointed to the blotch of purple in the center of her face.

  “I think it’s lovely, but then again you’d look gorgeous wearing a potato sack—or nothing.” He winked, and Brooke rushed to shush him.

  “Tris is just in the next room. You’re so bad!”

  “Oh, but I know you love it, darlin’.”

  Brooke laughed, and though the bouncing movement tore at her stitches, she felt great. She always felt wonderful whenever Jesse was around. Had it always been that way, or were these feelings new? Was it okay that she had started daydreaming that her very married best friend was her husband? Did this mean she was desperate and damaged in the wake of all that had happened with Brian and the baby, or could her growing infatuation with Jesse perhaps be the real deal?

  Thankfully unaware of her romantic flights of fancy, Jesse plopped a ham and cheese omelet onto her plate and handed her a glass of orange juice to wash it down. “Do you think today might be the day?”

  She shook her head with a frown. “I don’t know if I’m ready yet. Brian scares me. You didn’t see the look in his eye when I told him I wanted out. It’s like he became a different man, or a monster.”

  “He got all Incredible Hulk on you, huh?”

  She nodded, and held up her phone. “And he keeps sending me these texts.”

  Jesse thumbed through the messages, reading each one aloud. Get your act together, and come home NOW! Well, hello, all caps. That definitely makes me take you more seriously.”

  He rolled his eyes and moved on to the next message. Stop acting crazy. You’re my wife, and you belong in my home. Oh, so you’re the crazy one now? Seems like you finally got off the crazy train. You did good by leaving him, B. You know that, right?”

  She sighed. “Then why is this so hard?”

  “Right often is, but you’re strong. You’ll get through this. Now eat up.”

  Brooke took a few bites, as instructed. It felt so good to be taken care of for once. She hadn’t realized how much she did for Brian each day until that particular burden was lifted from her plate.

  “Oh by the by, hubby sent you some flowers this morning. I just threw them away. I hope that’s okay?”

  “He what…?”

  “Yeah, a bouquet of white roses. I thought your favorite flower was the daffodil. Does he know that?”

  A knot of fear formed in Brooke’s stomach. “Jesse, did the flowers come with a card?”

  “Yeah, but I didn’t read it. Want me to fish it out of the trash?” He quirked an eyebrow.

  “I hate making you do that, but if you wouldn’t mind.”

  “Here,” he said a moment later, placing the plain white card beside her plate.

  Good thing you left. You were never cut out for being a wife anyway.

  “Jesse?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Have you noticed anything weird going on lately?”

  “Other than the fact that I have a hot new roommate? No, I don’t think so.”

  “Hmm.” Maybe she had gone crazy. As the town gossip blogger du jour, Jesse had eyes on everything that went down in Herald Springs. If he didn’t even notice the weird, creeping stuff happening just outside his own home… Well, maybe that’s because all of it was in Brooke’s head. It wouldn’t be the first time her brain had played tricks on her, but it sure did seem her imagination was working overtime to turn her into a crazy, neurotic mess.

  “B, you don’t look so good. Why don’t you take the day off, and let me pick up some of the slack with planning that big charity thing?”

  “Oh, no. You’ve already done so much. I couldn’t possibly—”

  “And you’ve already been through so much. Let me help. That’s what I’m here for.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive. I’ll wake you up in time for book club, and I’ll keep Tris out of your hair. Now go back to bed, and let me take care of you, darlin’.” He placed a quick kiss on the top of her head, and Brooke felt her whole body warm.

  You’re safe, she told herself. Brian is gone. Jesse is here to help. No one is going to hurt you ever again.

  Nice words, but not ones she could actually bring herself to believe.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Annabeth

  Annabeth popped in her ear buds and cranked the volume to max. Her phone flashed a warning about damage to her hearing at such high levels—blah, blah, blah. The louder the better, she thought. Nothing relaxed her better than a bit of good music. The old-school tunes of Bob Dylan played as she walked through the bustling campus, the vibrations of the music resonating through her whole body, helping her to relax. A cigarette would be awesome about know, she thought as she popped a Nicorette gum in her mouth instead. The cold turkey thing hadn’t been cutting it. A little nicotine help was just what she needed to get over the hump.

  Ligia was supposed to pick her up in twenty minutes, and it would take her at least that long to make it to that side of the campus. Her last class had mercifully been canceled, which meant that she would be going home at a decent hour for once.

  She and Marcus planned to go out to dinner and maybe drive around Herald Springs to check up on a few key residents. Then, to take a drive by the boarded up laundromat the group owned just to see if it was being used as a safe house. The last few times she staked the place out, she’d come back empty, but they needed to be thorough. Even if their search didn’t pan out, she would still be spending the evening with the man she loved. So win-win either way.

  Annabeth daydreamed about her lover and sang along to “Just Like a Woman” as she weaved her way in and out of pockets of young people loitering on the commons. As she rounded the corner in front of the School of Social Work, she saw a flash of movement out of the corner of her eye. After the mugging last month, she couldn’t help but be on edge. Her heartbeat raced and her breath caught in her throat.

  She whirled around and came face-to-face with… Fin. Of course. Who else would creep up on her like
that?

  “What do you want?” She ripped the earbuds out and glared at him.

  He rushed at her—using his body to push her up against the wall of the building and pin her hands so she couldn’t move an inch. She didn’t even get a chance to cry out. His lips silenced hers with a crushing kiss. Her stomach roiled in revulsion at his assault.

  She twisted her body trying to shake loose, but his size and strength had her at a disadvantage. So she did the only thing she could and bit down on his bottom lip until she drew blood.

  His hold on her hands tightened and his body pressed harder into hers—pinning her to the wall like a tail on a paper donkey. “You like it rough, baby?”

  He kissed her again and this time ground his pelvis against her thigh.

  I’m gonna be sick!

  Annabeth gritted her teeth and let her body go loose. When the fight had gone out of her, the smile faded from his face.

  “Aw, and we were just starting to have a little fun.” His sharp pelvis jabbed into her diaphragm, making it hard to breath. “You should be more appreciative. After all I’ve done for you, the least you could do is spread your legs. Thankfully, there are other even younger and prettier girls that can’t get enough of me.” He let go of his hold on her hand and squeezed her breast hard “Still…I’m done being patient with you.”

  A hard slap across his cheek left her with a deep sense of satisfaction even though the action seemed to excite him further. His pelvis rocked against her once more. “Baby, you’ve got me so hard.” He grasped her hand and tried to get her to touch the front of his pants—thankfully giving her the leverage she needed to fight back.

 

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