Enchanter: The Flawed Series Book Four Page 4

  “Oh, I see. So I guess I won’t be seeing you much this weekend, huh?”

  “Yeah…sorry about that. Since she drove down just to see me and work on this, I kind of need to be available. But you could come over and hang out with us tonight if you want. We’ll just be working on the dress design more.”

  Logan gave a polite smile. “Nah. I’d just be in the way. Anyway, I’d rather not interrupt the girl time.”

  Jade’s stomach relaxed a bit. She was relieved she wouldn’t have to think about their relationship right away.

  “You sure you aren’t still upset? About Thursday?”

  Jade managed a tight smile. “No, I’m fine.”

  “Because I’m really sorry it happened. I—”

  “You don’t have to apologize, Logan. It wasn’t your fault.”

  He frowned and looked like he was about to argue.

  March bustled past the desk, giving Jade a narrow-eyed glare. A customer stopped her to ask a question, and March led him down a nearby aisle.

  “I kind of need to get back to work,” Jade said. A woman stepped up behind Logan, her arms piled with books.

  Logan glanced behind. “Oh, right, I’m sorry.” He stepped out of the way to let the woman check out.

  Jade greeted the woman and started scanning the books.

  “So, when does Chloe head back?” Logan asked, hovering off to the side.

  Jade frowned at the book in her hands, searching for a price tag. “This one doesn’t have a sticker,” she told the woman. “I’ll have to go find the price.” She glanced back at Logan. “I don’t know for sure. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

  He nodded. “Okay.”

  A small prick of guilt stung Jade as she went to find the book’s price. As much as she tried to push aside her worry, she couldn’t. She could only think of one way to keep Logan safe until she got her emotions under control. And it was an option she didn’t want to consider.

  When March left the bookstore that afternoon, things got a little easier for Jade. Customers still came in droves, but whether it was for the books or the free coffee, Jade wasn’t sure. Either way, her register stayed busy for another hour. Finally the crowd thinned, and she was able to take a breath and reorganize the sales desk. The simple task calmed her.

  She was pointing each of the pens tip-downward when a young man with curly brown hair and dark-framed glasses approached the desk. A messenger bag was slung over his shoulder.

  “Can I help you?” Jade asked.

  His eyes flicked around the room, returning to her with a look of unease. “I was wondering if you’re hiring. I’m looking for a job.”

  “Oh.” Jade thought for a moment. “I’m not sure, and my manager is gone for the day. But I can leave a message for her if you want. What’s your name?”

  “Graham Vega.”

  Jade took down his information. “Do you have a resume?”

  “Yeah.” Graham pulled a paper out of his bag and handed it to her. She fastened the note to it and put it into March’s pile.

  He hesitated at the desk a bit longer, and Jade arched a brow at him. “You need something else?”

  “No. I just—” he frowned. “I think you were in one of my classes last semester. Do you go to Colorado College?”

  “Yeah,” Jade said. “Now that you mention it, you do look familiar. Was it from American Lit class?”

  He nodded. “Are you an English major?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Me too. I just finished my freshman year.”

  “Oh, that’s cool,” Jade said. “I’m somewhere between sophomore and junior status.”

  “How does that work?”

  “I started slow, but I’ve been taking extra classes to catch up.”

  “Gotcha.”

  “My name’s Jade, by the way.”

  “Nice to meet you. I’m not sure if we’ll have a class together again, but if you need a studying partner, let me know.”

  “Thanks.” Jade smiled. “That might be really helpful.”

  “I’ll pop in on Monday and talk to the manager in person.”

  Jade nodded. “Good plan.”

  Graham hiked his book bag on his shoulder and strode away, but he didn’t leave the shop. Instead, he sat at one of the tables and pulled out a journal and pen.

  After finishing up her desk organization, Jade scanned the shop, replacing stray books and tidying up the merchandise. Shoppers had straggled out, leaving several patrons browsing shelves and a few others leafing through magazines in the lounge area.

  When Mr. Thompson had died and his daughter March had taken over the bookshop last year, she’d reorganized the entire place, adding a few tables to create a lounge space and providing free coffee to guests. Her attempts to boost business had worked, and Mountains of Books had seen a tremendous rise in both sales and customer activity ever since. It made more work for Jade, and with her glitch, crowds were a struggle. After her recent experiences, being around people made her more nervous than ever, and she breathed a sigh that the day was almost over. She checked the clock—less than an hour before she got off.

  She wiped down the tables after customers left, and the young man from earlier snagged her attention again. At a nearby table, he sat penning something in a fancy, leather-bound journal. His beautiful scrolling handwriting caught her eye.

  “Longhand, huh?” she said. “I don’t have the patience for it. Except for some journaling every now and then.”

  He glanced up at her. “Really? This part’s what drew me to writing in the first place. I love the feel—almost like painting the words onto the page.”

  “You have lovely penmanship. And that’s a really nice pen.”

  “Thanks. I’m very particular about what I use.”

  “You want some coffee?” she asked.

  “Oh. Sure. That would be great.”

  “Cream or sugar?”

  “Buckets of both, please.”

  She smiled. “Coming right up.” When Jade brought his coffee, she hovered near his table. “So what are you working on?”

  “It’s a story I’ve been playing around with. It’s about a futuristic world where artificial intelligence has taken over, and there’s only one real human left.”

  “That sounds fascinating.”

  “Do you have any writing projects right now?” he asked.

  “Yeah, actually. I’m working on a story for my creative writing summer class. It’s been giving me trouble lately, though.”

  “Oh really? Why?”

  “I’m not sure. I think maybe I’m just too much in my own head. I might need to get a second opinion on it.”

  “Well, if you need me to read it, let me know. I’m not sure if I have any good advice to give, but I’d be happy to try.” He shrugged and gave a bashful smile.

  “Thanks. I might do that.” Jade returned the smile.

  The door of the shop banged open, making the bells ripple with tense peals. Chloe burst into the store, a flurry of flying blonde hair and shopping bags.

  “Holy Versace, you won’t believe—” Smack! Chloe tripped and fell. Bags tumbled out of her hands and taped swatches of fabric flopped onto the floor.

  “Chloe! Are you okay?” Jade asked, hurrying to help her up.

  Graham scooted out of his chair and began collecting the strewn items and tossing them back into the bags.

  Chloe stood and adjusted her skirt, her chest heaving breathlessly.

  “What is all this?” Jade asked, handing one of the shopping bags to Chloe.

  “I went on a little spree. Had to— Shopping therapy—” Chloe’s words spilled out, broken in pieces each time she had to catch a breath.

  “Slow down, Flash Gordon,” Jade said with a chuckle. “You just went shopping—okay. But why the freak out when you stormed in here?”

  Chloe ran a hand through her bob, straightening the flyaway locks. “It’s Josh.”

  “What about him?” Jade asked, frowning. Chlo
e’s brother had been recovering from surgery on both his legs. “Is he okay?”

  “He’s a big, fat jerk, is what!”

  Chloe’s frustration jabbed sharply at Jade’s mind.

  “Okay. But he’s not hurt or in trouble or anything is he?”

  “No. Of course not.”

  “Okay.” It seemed a perfectly reasonable assumption after all the incidents they had been through in the past year, but Jade tried to stay with Chloe, being all too familiar with her mood swings. God knew Jade was bad enough herself lately. “So what’s wrong, then?”

  “He refused to be in the show!”

  “What show?”

  “The fashion show. He says there’s no way he’s going to be my model.”

  “Well, he did mess up his legs pretty bad. Maybe he’s worried about his limp.”

  “He doesn’t even use a cane anymore. And I bet his limp’s gone by the time of the show. He’s just being a chicken.”

  “Well, it is kind of a big deal to go up before a crowd like that. I didn’t say ‘yes’ right off either. I’m sure he’s just a little insecure about doing the whole model walk in front of everyone.”

  “But two weeks ago he told me he’d think about it—why didn’t he just say no? I was planning on him. I’ve already designed most of the male outfit based on his measurements.”

  Jade arched a brow and glanced at Graham who stood holding two of Chloe’s bags and watching the exchange. “I don’t see how this is his fault,” she said.

  Chloe sighed dramatically. “I don’t have any other options. We are supposed to have two models—a male and a female, and Cam won’t do it because of…” Chloe glanced away. “Well, you know.”

  Jade swallowed, wishing for about the millionth time that things between her and Cam didn’t have to be tinged by an awkward, failed relationship. It was just another of the casualties of her empathic glitch.

  “And now that Josh’s out, I have no other prospects.” Chloe’s eyes lit for a moment. “Do you think Logan would do it?”

  Jade stifled a chuckle. “I can’t say he would go for the idea. He’s not exactly the type to let someone fawn all over him and do him up all pretty.”

  Chloe’s shoulders drooped. “Dang. I was afraid of that.”

  “What about one of your ex-boyfriends?” Jade said.

  “Are you kidding?”

  “Never mind. I guess that’s a bad idea.” Come to think of it, Jade didn’t remember Chloe talking about any ex-boyfriends. But surely the beautiful, outgoing Chloe had dated plenty of guys. If not in the last year, then before Jade had met her.

  Chloe paused and seemed to notice Graham for the first time. “Who’s this?” she asked.

  Jade bit back a smile at Chloe’s bluntness. “This is Graham. We had an English class together last semester.” She glanced at Chloe. “This is my friend Chloe.”

  Graham handed the bags to Chloe. “Guilty as charged.”

  “Are you an English major, too?” Chloe asked.

  Graham nodded. “How’d you know.”

  She shrugged. “Just got the vibe.”

  “The glasses?” he asked.

  “Nope,” Chloe said.

  Graham seemed about to address her comment, but then he cocked his head and asked something else. “What’s this fashion show you’re talking about?”

  “It’s to raise funds for Concern Worldwide US. They fight poverty. Anyway, it’s a contest, and whoever wins gets a scholarship to California College of the Arts in San Fran. We’re required to have four designs. Jade’s modeling two of them.”

  “And your male bailed on you?”

  Chloe nodded.

  “I could do it.”

  “Really?” Chloe asked.

  “I wouldn’t have to speak in front of a crowd or anything, would I?”

  “No, there’s an announcer. You’d just have to model. It would take some time working with us in the next few weeks, though.”

  Graham glanced at Jade and back at Chloe. He shrugged. “I could use a reason to get out of the house. Sounds like fun.”

  Chloe eyed him from head to toe. “Well, you’re shorter than Josh, so I’ll have to rework the design….” She tapped her cheekbone thoughtfully.

  A soft tinge of pink crept over his cheeks.

  “But, you’re cute enough. And I like the glasses. Very geek chic.”

  Graham’s face went even redder. Jade felt his embarrassment pierce her along with something lurking beneath it: a hint of attraction. Her gaze traveled over his thick hair, and for a moment she had the urge to reach out and touch it.

  She cleared her throat. “Chloe, why don’t you show him your designs? You have them with you?” Jade took Chloe’s bags and turned away before any more of Graham’s feelings could capture her.

  “Yeah, I have my sketchpad in my handbag.”

  “Great,” Jade said. “I’ll put these behind the desk for you, and you guys can talk details.” She avoided meeting Graham’s gaze as she returned to her work area. After her complicated entanglement with Cam last year, she’d had enough awkward sexual tension to last a lifetime.

  ~

  Violet slept all afternoon and through to early Saturday morning. But when she woke, she felt much more alive. She pondered the energy flooding her veins and threw down another dose of her prescription. Wondering why Holly had never come by yesterday, Violet checked her phone and found a message saying Holly had a prior obligation and that she and her boyfriend would be coming today instead.

  In the meantime, Violet decided she was ready for activity. The physical therapist was due to make his first house call that afternoon. By the time he arrived, Violet had on her game face. Despite the warnings against it, she’d traversed the stairway and retrieved a sexy pair of workout clothes—never mind that the shirt was now baggy and the shorts would barely stay up. For now, she just used a safety pin to hold them in place. Her makeup was flawless, which helped bring some color back into her sunken cheeks.

  Hugo, the PT who arrived, was a man of athletic build with cropped, blond hair and a powerful jaw. She gave him a wide smile and ushered him in.

  He began with a series of questions about her pain level and overall health before leading her into simple exercises. Her motor skills were on point, nearly perfect. When Hugo had shown her a basic routine of occupational therapy exercises, they moved on. Knowing she needed to focus on getting her strength back, Violet pushed through all the stretches and weight-lifting routines with enthusiasm. Her pain was gone, and her smile held. Hugo told her she was doing exceptionally well and that if she did these daily, soon she could move to a more intense routine.

  When he left, Violet ignored his caution to take things slow. Instead, she did another entire round. Afterward, she lounged on the sofa, allowing herself to drift off to sleep for a bit. When the doorbell awoke her, Violet shrugged off the light nap easily, feeling energized rather than drowsy. She padded barefoot over to the door to receive her guests.

  Holly’s bright eyes greeted her. The girl had barely stepped inside before throwing her arms around Violet in a tight hug. “Oh, Vi! I’m so glad you got to go home finally. Sorry I couldn’t make it yesterday. Remember Ashley Langston from high school? She and her parents are in Europe for the summer, and they’ve asked me to stop in and take care of their house—feed the fish, get the mail, that sort of thing. But we’re here now.” She smiled brightly.

  A tall guy with rich, dark skin and black hair buzzed short on the sides and spiky up top followed Holly. His broad shoulders slouched with an air of resigned apathy.

  “This is my boyfriend, Ras,” Holly said.

  “Hi.” Violet gave a small wave.

  The extent of his greeting was an arched brow and what might have been a nod her direction. He didn’t smile.

  “We want to help you get settled in, so just let us know what you need. We’re happy to help—right Ras?”

  Ras gave a grunt, but his focus had lazily drifted to the la
rge picture window at the other end of the room that overlooked downtown Colorado Springs.

  Violet smiled at her friend, ignoring the prickle of irritation caused by the less-than-enthusiastic boyfriend. “All my stuff is upstairs, and the doctor says I’m not supposed to go up and down yet.” Never mind that she’d already been up once.

  “Okay, just tell us what you want,” Holly said.

  Violet ticked off items on her fingers as she thought of them, and Holly made for the stairway.

  “Ras? Come on.” Holly elbowed him, and he trailed after her.

  The short burst of satisfaction from watching the couple heed her wishes quickly faded. Violet’s insides prickled again, at the way Ras’s mouth turned down and his brows scrunched in irritation. How dare he have an attitude about helping her? She was the one who’d been in a coma for three weeks. What right did he have to do anything but heed her whims?

  Ras returned with a box of her things, but Holly was still upstairs.

  “I was thinking,” Violet said. “This arrangement isn’t the greatest. Could you maybe move the sofa?” Violet bet he was wondering how much he could avoid if his girlfriend wasn’t watching. She shrugged a shoulder. “I’m not supposed to lift anything.”

  Ras turned toward the sofa, but not too soon for Violet to catch the roll of his dark eyes. She clamped her jaw down hard and flexed her fingers to keep from balling them into fists.

  He grabbed the corner of the sofa and tugged with a half-assed attempt.

  “Hmm, that’s no good,” Violet said. “Won’t be able to see the television from there.” She got him to try several more spots, and as he moved it to the final position, he bumped her arm. Frustration at his incompetence boiled inside her. Until she saw the colored lines radiating from his head. They were like contrails from some invisible jet. The strings wound together and shot through her palm. Though there was no physical sensation, a new type of energy buzzed through Violet.

  When Ras looked up at her, his features had changed to a pliable expression. Feelings of her own vulnerability fell away, heeding this new influence. She didn’t understand it, didn’t know why or how. But she only cared that it felt amazing.