Page 17 of Storm Warning
“Accessories for our accessories, I like it.” Reaching up toward her glasses, she pulls on the chain she has attached to them. “I kept losing my glasses and made this beaded chain so I can wear them around my neck instead of setting them down in this mess.” She gestures toward the antiques.
I inspect the chain, noting the tiny little crystal beads woven together into a kaleidoscope of colors. Every jewel-tone intertwined with silver and gold, colorful and interesting just like Molly herself.
“I love it,” I say. “Oh—” The weight of the book under my arm reminds me to set it down on the counter as well. “Almost forgot this.” I brush my hands over the soft velvet surface as I slide the book toward her.
“Ohhh, and you’ve found yourself a treasure from my collection too?” She claps her hands like a kid in a candy store. To her this place is probably just as good, if not better. Shegrabs her glasses, pulling them closer to her eyes to inspect the cover. “The Secret Garden? Ah, yes, such a lovely story.” She clicks her tongue in her mouth as if she needs a sound to think about what she plans to say next. “What a dream it would be to escape to a place only you could find.” Her smile persists as she peers down at the book, but it’s like her mind has taken her elsewhere. And something about that makes her much more relatable to me.
I nod, letting a soft hum of agreeance pass my lips.
Snapping her focus back to here and now, she settles her stare on me again. “I guess that’s why we read, Deary. If we never find our secret garden, at least we’ve dreamt of it.”
I’m stunned by the wonder that is Molly Mae. She’s every bit of what I always dreamed my grandparents could be, but never were. Loving and kind instead of cold and distant. I fish inside my pocket for some cash, words escaping me as I take her in. Her lips purse ever so slightly as she holds up her hands in protest. “No, no, your money is no good here, my dear. Not today.”
My brow furrows. Why would she do that? I know that what I bought isn’t much, but still… Just like everyone, she’s got to make a living. Her thoughtful gesture brings a rush of warmth to my heart. I’ve never experienced something so selfless, so genuine before. Especially from a total stranger. “I can’t let you do that.” My words come soft, but she’s already shaking her head, a rebuttal poised on her lips. “Why?” I ask.
“In a world beset on shiny new things, places like mine often can be looked over. Forgotten. Especially by young folks like yourself.” Her lips tilt upward, appreciation swirling in her gaze. “I remember you from before. Each time you’ve come in you’ve taken the time to appreciate the beauty in the old—” she glides her hand over my items “ —not just the new.”
A smile finds its place on my lips, her warmth squeezing my heart. “Thank you so much, Mrs. Mae. Truly.”
I consider opening the book and showing her what I found inside as she bags up the other items I grabbed, but she clears her throat, readying to speak instead. “I think this book’s owner found her garden. Not somewhere, but within someone. I hope it brings you luck, and if nothing else, it at least brings your shelf a bit more beauty.”
9
RHETT - JUNE 25, 2004
The sun is shining,the streets are filled with people just minding their business, and then there’s me. Trying to blend my six foot frame amongst a crowd of people I seem to tower over. Spotting a magazine stand a few feet ahead, I duck behind it, hoping it will shield me from the journalist’s assistant from PABRA I spotted only a second ago.
She hasn’t seen me, or at least I hope she hasn’t. She seems more interested in her phone call at the moment. Thank fuck. I’m so tired of feeling like I need to hide to keep some peace. One day I know they’ll catch me, but I hope to God today isn’t that day. After ending her call, she shoves her phone in her bag and aims for my direction. Can’t seem to keep a writer away from tabloids, I guess. A sinking feeling settles in my gut, and I grab the first magazine I see, holding it in front of my face. A last-ditch effort in avoiding this woman.
“Not very inconspicuous, Rogers.” Her voice is soft, not as if she’s trying to stay hushed, just by nature. Small fingers curl their way over the top of the pages within my hands, pulling downward to reveal a woman with her hair pulled back tightinto a pony tail. A smile resides on her lips and she tugs the magazine from my hands, only to return it an instant later. “Next time, make sure you hold it the proper direction.”
I glance at it. Sure as shit, it’s upside down.Smooth.
“Listen, Darlin’, as much as I’d love to chit chat, I’mrealbusy right now. Can we do this another time?” I force as much charm into my words as possible.
She places her hand on her hip, staring at me like she’s not surprised I’ve got an excuse. “Mr. Cassidy was on the phone when I spotted you. He told me to ask for an interview. Are you going to make my life easy and oblige? Or would you like to continue this game of hide and seek?”
I force a casual grin to my lips, but everything inside me wants to run. Who’d have thought months after my accident people would still be talking about it. I never knew I’d become so big that my return would be this important, and despite knowing I will go back, I just don’t know when that’ll be. But frankly, none of these damn gossips need to know the when or why of this. It’s my business and no one else’s. And for now, it’s going to stay that way.
“Close your eyes, Miss Woods, and count to ten,” I croon, a smirk toying on my lips. “Hell, make it one hundred. I ain’t so fast without my horse.”
Sincerity shines in her eyes. “You know he won’t let this slide forever. He’s rather fixated on your story. At some point, he’s going to make it his life goal to get it.”
“Didn’t know I had an admirer. Tell him I’m flattered, really, but let him know I like the thrill a little too much. Guess the chase continues, Sunshine… Plus, why would I want to give up on another chance to play hide and see with ya?” I shoot her a confident wink.
She smiles, shaking her head, acknowledging my response once more as if it’s no surprise to her. “I’ll let him know Imistook someone as you, but next time, you owe me.” I bob my head up and down, glad she’s not upset, because either way she wasn’t getting so much as a squeak from me. “You know where to find us. Hope to see you back in our regular stomping grounds soon. Have a nice day.”
Tilting my hat toward her, I walk the opposite direction she does. I hit the end of the block before glancing back toward the stand that she no longer occupies. I’m lucky I stumbled across a major reporter’s assistant and not him or any number of other reporters who would have taken this moment and turned it into something more. It’s not that I hate them, I mean I’m not really a fan of them, but they’re just doing their job. Problem is I don’t have anything to say anyway. I fell off a bull. The story truly stops there, because sharing my family’s hardship is only something I’d do among friends, and even then, it’s not my first thought.
I wander down the street aimlessly, passing stores and people before heading into a coffee shop. The door chimes above me as I enter a building filled with the scent of warm coffee and pastries. It’s bright and welcoming, with shades of blue as far as the eye can see, and on the wall, are words I didn’t expect—Southern Sip.
Well I’ll be damned. I look around the shop, noting the serene, calm setting. I think of Kaylee and how opposite this place is to her fiery personality. Man, that girl is something else.
The line I stand in disappears quickly, so I approach the counter and order the first drink I see. I haven’t ever had cinnamon in my coffee, but why not?
My drink is ready almost immediately, and as I turn to leave, I spot Daisy and none other than the angel of sass herself seated at one of the tables. Damn, she looks good. With her light blonde hair and a rare, luminous smile on her lips. Myeyes wander over her face. Her features are soft, but her makeup is dark around her eyes. I’ve only seen her this way, but I bet she would look just as attractive with no makeup at all. Her hair changes every time I see her. Like maybe the colorful bits aren’t permanent, but what stays the same is the wall of ice she seems to have built around her.
She’s distracting. Not only in the way that she puts up a fight for no reason, but also in whatever hides behind those hazel eyes. I’m not sure if I’m bored and looking for some fun or invested in the mystery, but either way I find her charm, though oddly crass, magnetic. A rush goes through me. The same adrenaline pumping through me as when I ride a bull.
