Page 6 of Beautiful Deceit
I decide on jeans, just a nicer pair than usual. My shirt is a sheer and white tunic. I rethink wearing it a few times but end up dismissing my alternatives as I wrap a belt beneath my breast. I can see a hint of my light pink French cut bra, but the white lace upper cup creates the illusion that I'm wearing a cami, so I think it will be alright. I pull out a chunky heeled wingtip shoe that I only get to wear on days when I’m not walking to work.
I leave my long hair free down my back but curl the ends to give it some style. I don't often wear much more than mascara, but after looking at my reflection, I decide to add a little eyeliner and blush today.
I move to the kitchen having accomplished my task. I plan to make a couple small dishes for the few people showing up tonight. Typically, there are anywhere between five to ten people that come, but with theFifty Shadesseries being so popular I think there could be a few new members.
The image of a Great Dane fills my mind, making me smile. I shake my head to get back on track with my planning.
Book clubs are great for business, so I always throw a little something together for the people that come. The old store has the perfect atmosphere for cozy get togethers. The seating area on the second floor works perfectly.
I decide to make my warm spinach and artichoke dip. I'll prepare it in the crockpot I keep at work for just this kind of occasion. If I make that and a veggie tray with a few deserts, all I will need to do is prep work, a little baking, and arranging. Easy enough.
When I've got everything ready I call a cab so I don't have to lug half the contents of my fridge the few blocks to work.
* * *
Keys in hand,I lock up. My things are waiting for me downstairs by the main entry.
A cab pulls up to the curb, just as I am opening the door. He honks the horn for a long second.
I start loading my few bags onto the seat. I've been doing this for almost a year now, and I've simplified the packing process greatly from when I first began. Even though I'm making more refreshments than usual, I have only one small bag containing a few ingredients and one large bag of carrying trays for the finished snacks or desserts.
Anna opensthe door for me and takes one of the bags from my hands. She grunts from the weight and sets it down next to the register.
"Please tell me why you drag all this stuff here every month. Why don't you just have it catered?" She asks struggling with why I would go to the trouble of making everything at home.
"I enjoy doing it Anna," I answer simply. She doesn’t understand, but it's all I have I can tell her.
She sighs, like she's the one who's spent the last two hours preparing everything. I ignore her small frown.
The chairs surrounding Jess are full, and she has two people waiting in line. I wave to her and smile as I pass. She eyes the bag in my hand and the other on the floor near Anna.
"What'd you make for us today Sam?" The difference between these two women is on full display. Jess sees the value of home cooking, whereas Anna would rather just pick something up.
"A few things. I need to get your favorite going though," I smile and finish taking the stuff to the small lounge. Her eyes crinkle at the corners.
She "Oohs" appropriately. She loves my spinach and artichoke dip.
I see a few bodies milling around on the second floor, but everything seems under control for the time being.
Chapter 3
I'm on the second floor finishing set up, when George calls up to ask if I need a hand. It’s the second time he has called up. I shake my head and call down a polite decline.
A low coffee table holds most of the treats while a long narrow table against the wall holds the rest of the food and some bottles of water.
I peer over the scrolled metal balcony, noticing a few people moving about the store. Mickey and her sister Cookie who show up every month are flirting shamelessly with Jude while they order a couple hot drinks. I know for certain they’ve met Mark, but both enjoy a bit of harmless flirting.
I turn from the balcony to walk down the curved staircase a few steps and announce to any newcomers where the meeting will take place.
Mickey and the small group of my regulars flow up the stairs talking animatedly about what books should be next. Mickey is fighting to finish the series, but Linda is adamant that if we discuss the first book, then the others would become redundant.
"Oh, Mickey just read them, and enjoy them. No need to beat it to death," the old bird cackles at her intended joke. I smirk thinking the eighty-year-old woman had to have been something to see in her youth.
I turn and make my way back up the stairs. I notice a slightly familiar looking large man loitering near the staircase; the ball cap pulled low over his face is a give away. It takes a moment, but I realize it's my stranger from the grocer.
My heart rate speeds up.
Is he following me?
