Soothsayer: Magic Is All Around Us (Soothsayer Series Book 1) (3 page)

“Lights a fire in you?” Becky laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous, just get some coffee with someone, anyone. You need to stop being so picky.”

“I’m picky for a reason. You of all people know how bad things got with Nick.”

“I still can’t believe he was into all that voodoo magic stuff,” Becky said, looking at me apologetically.

Finally I reached the W’s section and started flipping through the books.

I could feel Becky’s eyes watching me carefully. “When I find someone worthwhile, then I’ll give it a chance,” I said to placate her.

“Whatever you say.” Becky didn’t sound convinced.

Taking one of the Walt Whitman collections off the shelf I skimmed through the cream colored pages. Becky’s phone went off and she pulled it out of her bag.

“Shit, I totally forgot. Aaron’s coming into town and I’m supposed to meet him at my place,” Becky explained. She looked down at her watch. “Twenty minutes ago! Sorry, Violet, I’ve gotta run.” Becky exited the store as briskly as she could without breaking into a run.

“See ya later. Tell Aaron I say hi!” I called after her.

Becky waved her hand in acknowledgment and answered the phone.

Aaron was Becky’s older brother. He came down from San Francisco every summer to visit and I’d grown close to him over the last couple of years. He was a good friend and always there to give you an honest male opinion whether you liked it or not.

I put the book back on the shelf and pulled another one down to look through.

“Violet?” a man’s voice asked behind me in a soft, cautious tone.

Turning to see who had said my name I saw a man sitting in a plump leather chair with a book in his lap. His light blue button up shirt stretched across his broad shoulders and his well-muscled legs revealed him to be a tall man even though he was sitting. His hair was dark and wavy, parted to one side and styled like a suave Cary Grant. His warm eyes reminded me of melted dark chocolate as they stared into mine. He was the most handsome man I had ever seen outside of a magazine.

Taken off guard, I mumbled, “Err… hi. How do you know my name?”

He rose from the chair and walked toward me. His shirt was rolled up to his elbows, exposing his fair skin.
He’s not from around here
, I thought. Even if you used sunscreen every day, you’d still have a golden tint to your skin.

“I overheard you and your friend talking. She said your name as she was leaving. I’m Robert.” He extended his hand to shake mine.

I placed my hand in his and he gave it a firm grip. His touch was soft and warm. The feel of his skin sent chills up my arm, the closeness of him heightening all my senses.

This is ridiculous
, I thought.
I don’t even know this man and I feel like I’m going to start hyperventilating any minute.

“Oh, well can I help you with something?” I asked, feeling self-conscious.

“Stranger, if you passing meet me and desire to speak to me, why should you not speak to me? And why should I not speak to you? “He quoted, and then smiled a crooked smile that I assumed undid most women.

“You know Walt Whitman?” I gave him a dubious look. Most people knew of the poet, but few could quote any of his work from memory.

“Who doesn’t,” he said with a shrug. “I noticed you were holding a compilation of his works.” He grinned, amused by my expression, and pointed to the book in my hand.

“Oh yeah. I’m trying to find a good collection of his work.”
Handsome and smart,
I thought, eying him.

“Might I suggest you get this one?” He reached around me, placing his body inches from mine. I inhaled at the closeness and caught the sweet smell of his cologne mixed with the cool ocean air. I smiled in spite of myself as he pulled away with a leather-bound book in hand.

I reached for the book, turning it over. I glanced up at him and his gaze caught mine. His eyes were warm and curious. The world seemed to slow around us and for the briefest moment I felt like I already knew him. I opened my mouth to thank him when his phone went off, startling us both. He cleared his throat and stepped away.

“I’m sorry, will you excuse me a moment?” he asked, looking apologetic.

“Sure, no problem.” I waved him away and turned back to the shelf behind me, heart still pounding in my chest.

He walked away and answered his cell. “This better be important.”

He stopped just out of earshot but I could still see him with his back turned toward me.

I looked between him and the book he had picked out for me. I didn’t remember seeing this particular volume on the shelf. I ran my fingers across the worn cover and its gold lettering. It felt smooth under my fingers and the corners had been worn down to a dull curve. I flipped the pages open and let them fan across my thumb. I took a deep breath and could almost smell the fresh ink on the pages mingled with a century of dust.

Turning the book over, I wondering how such an old, unique book could end up crammed on the shelves next to the ordinary mass-market paperbacks.

I looked over my shoulder to see if Robert was still close by and saw him a few aisles down, idly pulling books off the shelf and putting them back without looking at them. His eyes caught mine for a split second and he cocked his head like he was trying to decipher a code hidden in my features. I smiled and looked away as he continued his conversation.

Putting the book that I’d taken down back on the shelf I held on to the one Robert suggested
.
I walked a few aisles down to the fiction section to see if there was anything else I wanted while I was there. I examined a book with an interesting-looking cover and started reading the back. It looked like a promising murder-mystery, so I stuck it under my arm alongside the leather-bound book.

“Sorry about that,” Robert said, his voice deep and soft.

I turned around to see him leaning against one of the bookshelves across from me.

Why was he back? What did he want from me? A warning bell went off in the back of my mind. Being friendly to a stranger was one thing, but seeking them out was a little odd.

“Don’t worry about it,” I said and waved my hand at him. “I decided to go for the book you suggested.” I tapped the leather cover under my arm.

“Good, you won’t regret it,” he said with a devilish smirk.

I regarded him with careful consideration. “So, do you spend a lot of time loitering around bookshops?” I wasn’t sure why he was still standing there. He didn’t seem to be interested in any of the paperbacks lining the shelves. In fact his interest seemed to lie with me for some reason.

He laughed and uncrossed his arms as he stepped toward me. “Of course. You end up meeting the most interesting people that way.”

“Is that right?” I moved away from him and down the aisle. My breath quickened and the warning bells in my head
dinged
louder. He seemed nice enough, but you just never knew these days.

“Only the best kind of people enjoy a good read.” He plucked a book from the shelf nearest him and grinned at it before returning it to its rightful place.

I smiled at his unconscious fiddling before our eyes caught. For a split second everything around us blurred out of existence once more. A raw, almost primal feeling overcame me and it felt as though all my secrets and scars were laid out in the open.

I broke our gaze and tucked my hair behind my ear.

“Listen, I wish I could stay and chat, but that was my brother on the phone and apparently he’s having a crisis that needs my attention,” he lamented, shrugging and rolling his eyes.

“Oh okay, well it was nice meeting you… Robert,” I said, breathing a sigh of relief.

“Maybe I’ll see you around town.”

“Maybe.” I did my best to keep my voice even.

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Violet.” He offered a slight bowing of his head, smiled and walked away.

He moved fluidly down the aisle and out of sight toward the front of the store. After a few moments I heard the jingle of the door and knew he was gone. I slumped against the bookshelf, finally able to breathe with him no longer nearby. He seemed like a perfectly normal guy but something about him left me feeling exposed and anxious. I took a deep breath and made my way to the front of the store to pay for my books.

“Just these today,” I said, putting the murder mystery and Walt Whitman on the counter.

“It’s already been taken care of, Miss Evans,” Frank said, looking up at me with a frown.

“What do you mean, taken care of?”

“The gentleman who just left gave me fifty dollars and told me it was for any books you decided to buy, and then he just left.”

“He what?”

My legs still shook from his gaze, but that anxiety quickly turned into anger. Truthfully, I didn’t know why I was angry. I wasn’t too keen on the idea of him paying for my things, but the anger building inside of me couldn’t be justified by his dropping a Grant on my behalf.

“I’m sorry, I thought the two of you knew each other,” Frank said, coughing into his hand to hide his embarrassment.

“That’s okay Frank. How much do I owe you?” I asked, still trying to decipher my emotions.

“But…”

I raised my hand to cut him off.

“Now, now, I don’t need some strange man paying for my books. You’ll take my money and do whatever you want with the cash he gave you,” I insisted.

Frank rung me up and took my money, though he didn’t look very happy about it.

“It was a nice gesture, Miss. Evans,” he offered.

“Nice maybe, but all the same I’d rather pay for my own things.”

As I walked backed to where I had left my bike, I thought about my encounter with Robert, trying to figure out what had just happened. I thought about the way our eyes caught and how naked I’d felt in that moment. A feeling of unease seeped into my chest the more I thought about him standing there, looking at me like I was some sort of puzzle he couldn’t quite figure out. There was definitely something different about him, something unique that I couldn’t put my finger on.

Lost in my own head, I reached my bike in what felt like in a matter of seconds. I decided to write the whole thing off and move on. I’d probably never see him again anyway, so there was no use in letting a stranger consume my thoughts. I shook the image of him from my mind, but couldn’t entirely shake off the feeling of vulnerability.

My ride to and from the coffee shop had renewed my strength. I felt like I could take on the world, or at least the bookkeeping I’d been neglecting. My studio was my second home, small but quaint, and I loved it. A few of my favorite pictures hung from the front office walls, two large desks easily filling the floor. The second desk was for my receptionist, Jessie, who would come in for a couple hours after school. Her parents wanted her to get a part time job to learn how to be responsible, so she came to work for me. It was nice having Jessie around to do some of the administrative tasks; it freed up a lot of my time so I could get out, take more pictures and spend more time in the dark room.

I sat down at my desk near the back of the room, put my iPod on shuffle, opened up the spreadsheet program on my computer and started working on the accounts receivable. I always worked better with a little music in the background. Even as a kid I always did my homework with the radio on.

The studio phone rang and I turned down the music before answering. “Good afternoon, this is Violet,” I said into the old-fashioned plastic receiver.

“Hi Violet, it’s Annabel. Thank god, I reached you.” Relief laced her voice as she paused to breathe. Annabel was Jake Maxwell’s Fiancé. There was only one more week until the wedding and we still needed to finalize the photo list.

“Hi Annabel, what’s up?”

“Are you going to be at the studio for a while?”

“Yeah, I’ll be here most of the day. Is everything alright?”

"You’re going to kill me," she laughed.

"We’re changing the list again, aren’t we?"

“My soon to be mother-in-law is driving me nuts. She wants to make a few changes to the group photos. Can I come by and go over the updated list with you?” she asked.

“Sure. You can e-mail it to me if you’d like.”

“No, that’s alright. I need to get out of the house for a little bit. I’ll be down in a few.”

“Okay, see you in a bit,” I said and hung up the phone.

I saved a few of the changes I had made to the accounts receivable and closed the program. I double-clicked on the file for Annabel’s photo list and it popped open on the screen.

The Maxwell estate was only about ten minutes away and Annabel would arrive soon, so I decided to check my messages real quick while I waited. I pressed the voicemail button on the bulky desk phone and listened to the first message. It was from a telemarketer telling me the warranty on my car had expired. The message was in Spanish. I laughed to myself and hit delete. The next was a message from my girlfriend Christy. The elementary school was having picture day soon and they wanted to schedule a day with me. It wasn’t Christy's job to call me, but since we knew each other, the school always had her coordinate on their behalf.