Read The Apple Tree Online

Authors: Kara Jimenez

The Apple Tree (10 page)

BOOK: The Apple Tree
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He laughed. “You’re right. I have a few other things up my sleeve.”


But you’re not going to tell me about them?”

His head tilted back and forth as if considering. “Maybe another time.”

When they finished the food, she helped him pack the basket. A slightly fuzzy feeling filled her head from the wine.


Let’s walk over to the train,” Peter suggested. They left their belongings on the grass and strolled through the park until they reached the antique steam engine. The cars had all been removed long ago and all that remained was the engine, cleaned up and placed there by the city to add interest to the park. He took her hand and pulled her around to face him. “Stand next to the locomotive. I’d like to take a picture of you.”

She stood in front of the white letters that read
Georgia Pacific
and smiled, hoping she didn’t look ridiculous.

He held his camera out, clicking a few times.


Set the timer so we can take one together,” she suggested.


No, I like to take the photos, not be in them.” He jogged to where she stood and took her hand, pulling her up the metal steps that led to the engine cab. Inside, the old firebox had been sealed shut, but the valves and knobs still turned. She wiggled a knob. There were no children inside playing. They were alone.

Setting his camera on the floor, he leaned back against the black steel wall. His hands circled her waist and tugged her close.

She pressed against his lean frame, hyper-aware of every point their bodies met. Taking a deep breath, she basked in the aroma of cedar and jasmine. What would Levi smell like? She quickly pushed the thought aside.

Peter’s azure eyes smoldered as they gazed into hers. “I’m really glad you came out with me today,” he said, his voice a deep breathy whisper.


So am I.”

He tilted his head, lowering it to her level.

A decision needed to be made. His lips were about to touch hers, and she wanted it, she really wanted it, but she barely knew him.

His fingers brushed along her jawline, sending a thrill through her body.

She took a step back. In her experience, moving too fast only led to heartbreak and she’d promised herself she’d act more responsibly. “Peter, I think we should slow down.” Her gaze shifted to the steel floor. “I barely know you.”

He studied her expression and seemed taken aback for a moment. Then, letting out a long slow breath, he nodded and dropped his hands.

As soon as his arms left her body, she regretted it.

 

 

A
fter taking Bianca home, Peter unlocked the door of his condo and stepped inside. His photographs filled the slate colored walls in orderly arrangements and he smiled every time he saw them.

Throwing his keys into the antique bowl by the door, he walked to the bar counter. A variety of glass liquor bottles stood on the chestnut wood in a neat row. He selected an ornate rectangular one and poured its amber liquid into a glass. Closing his eyes, he brought the drink to his nose, inhaling the oak scent. Why had Bianca pushed him away? He wasn’t used to rejection. And the few that turned him down usually weren’t worth the chase. He tipped the glass toward his mouth and the burn slid down his throat.

But Bianca…had Clara’s honey brown eyes.

He shook his head, pushing the painful thought away and placed the whiskey bottle back in line with the others. The only reason he’d introduced himself was to use her against Levi. That was it. Not her goddamn… beautiful eyes and sweet smile. Swallowing the remaining contents of his glass, he set it back on the counter with a clink.

A huge window filled the entire east wall and the sun streamed through the condo highlighting the dust specks in the air. The maid was due the next day, she better take care of that. He walked to the window and looked down upon the Willamette River and the landscaped Waterfront Park. Yesterday, he’d seen Bianca riding her bike along the path below, her ginger ponytail swinging as she pedaled. Now, there was only a plain brunette pushing a stroller.

He glanced at the clock. His father was in Miami and expected him to call him via Skype in just a few minutes. Groaning, he leaned his forehead against the glass. Should he mention Bianca? There was no doubt what his father would do if he found something Levi cared about. The man could be ruthless and wouldn’t care one lick for Bianca’s safety if it meant he could figure out the curse.

At exactly one o’clock, he sat down at the table in the kitchen he rarely used, and opened his laptop. When the call connected, his father appeared on screen, wearing a business suit and reclining in a leather armchair. Gray hair covered his round head and the sharp blue eyes matched his own.


Peter, have you learned anything new?” he asked.


Nothing. Levi does the same thing he’s always done.” His voice sounded bored.


And you told him we upped the offer to six million?”


Yes. He wasn’t interested.”

His father slammed his fist on the armrest. “Then make him interested,” he yelled. “Dammit Peter! Isn’t that obvious? Forget your whores for one night and get something done.”

Peter set his mouth in a hard line. He didn’t see whores. He’d never pay for what was thrown at him for free.


If George was here, we’d already have the information we need,” his father said.

Peter flinched at the mention of his older brother. George had been the golden child, constantly hoarding their father’s approval and leaving Peter to pick at scraps. “But he isn’t here. He’s dead…and all you have is me.”


Ahh.” He threw up his hands. “Don’t remind me.”

Peter took a long, slow breath. “I’ll talk to Levi again, tomorrow. Maybe poke around his place. I’ll figure something out.”


Good. Now let me get back to my damn drink.” He lifted the glass in his hand and ended the call.

 

 

 

 

Bianca slipped off her boots and placed them in the wicker basket as she stepped inside the apartment. Her head was still slightly dizzy, although she wasn’t sure if it was from the wine or Peter’s touch.

Her mother sauntered downstairs, dressed in her uniform and ready for her shift at the grocery store. Puffy skin and inflamed blood vessels consumed her eyes.


Aww, Mom, come here.” Bianca raised her arms to give her a hug.


I’m fine.” Her mother brushed past her. “It surprised me that your father was starting a new family with that little girl, but I’m over it now. I’m going to work. See you later.” She stepped out and closed the door a little too hard behind her.

Hopefully, this wouldn’t send her mother into another tail spin. Bianca sighed and went to find Owen. It was strangely quiet and that always meant trouble. She found him in the bathroom upstairs, next to the toilet. Fluffy white paper covered the entire floor like layers of fog. She grumbled and folded the toilet paper back onto the roll.

A light splashing sound made her turn. Owen had opened the toilet and swished his hand in the water.


Owen! Yucky! The toilet is for poop and pee, not hands.” She groaned, picked him up and washed him, then set him outside the door so she could finish cleaning up the mess.

As she worked, Peter’s image appeared in her mind. Should she have kissed him? Maybe lived in the moment for once, instead of being so cautious and constantly afraid of being hurt. She closed her eyes, remembering his hands on the small of her back. Would Levi’s touch feel the same? She shook her head. Why did that creep keep working his way into her thoughts?

She headed downstairs and into the kitchen, where she peeked into the bowl she’d placed next to the oven two days ago. The gooey mess of flour and water still lay flat. She was waiting for bubbles so she could make her first loaf of sourdough bread. How much longer would it take? A tutorial on sourdough bread would really add to her blog, but she had to figure out how to do it first.

Remembering her blog, she ran upstairs, taking the steps two at a time, and retrieved her laptop. Back in the kitchen, she flipped it open at the table, so she could keep an eye on Owen. She wasn’t going to take any chances leaving him unsupervised again.

He hid underneath the chairs and played with a little toy car, making vrooming noises.

The computer screen lit up. Holy moly. Her blog had a thrown party. Ten thousand new hits this morning. The granola bar recipe had gone viral.

 

 

 

 

The next day, Peter drove out to Levi’s cabin. When he turned the corner, Levi’s truck was gone. He smiled at his luck. This would be easy. The Ferrari slid to a stop and he climbed out. Aldo barked and watched him from the window. Stupid dog.

He tried the handle. Locked. Pulling a pin from his pocket, he slid it into the lock and jiggled until it clicked.


Hey, buddy.” He ruffled the dog’s fur. “Want some dinner? Huh? Want some food?” The dog followed, wagging his tail as Peter walked to the kitchen. Opening the cupboards, he found the dog food and poured it into Aldo’s bowl.

Peter opened the refrigerator and took out a beer. He found a bottle opener in a kitchen drawer, and then walked back into the living room, drinking the cool liquid.

He glanced around the room. Wood paneled walls surrounded clean, but worn, plaid furniture. There were few decorations, except for a canvas hung over the fireplace, painted with a deer in the woods. He snorted. The guy lived like some kind of hermit mountain man.

In the corner, a small table stood with several drawers. Pulling them open, he rifled through the contents and found an old, worn Bible. The inside flap said
Elwood Family History
and listed several births, marriages and deaths. He sighed.

The problem was he had no idea what he looked for. The curse had come on suddenly with no known cause. He closed his eyes, remembering the day he discovered his immortality.

In the fall of 1857, a strange illness had struck the people of the small, Oregon Territory town of Corvallis. The young formed wrinkles and their hair turned gray. They complained of aches and pains throughout their bodies and a few lost their eyesight. Within two weeks, six people were dead. Including his Clara.

BOOK: The Apple Tree
3.05Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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