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“I’m surprised you’re here. Your brothers came in yesterday and demanded I never have contact with you again.” Remembering the look on the sexy assholes’ faces, I felt obliged to add, “I’m not sure you should be here.”
Telling Kit this was difficult since I had developed a liking for her. There was something about this girl I couldn’t quite put my finger on. She almost seemed like a pixie of sorts, juvenile, mild, and in her own world. I always enjoyed her company. When Kit had walked in the door a few weeks back, an almost instant kinship had formed between us.
Kit smiled in a soothing way, unlike anything I’d ever seen. “My brothers are really protective and can’t help it. They’re just very busy with a move of ours, and they thought you were taking advantage of me, and well… they can be a little bossy. They have mountain man blood, which can make them all hotheaded.” She looked down at her hands that fiddled in front of her. “I’m sorry.”
Alittlebossy? They’d seemeda lotbossy to me. Mountain man blood indeed. “Don’t be sorry. I have a feeling your brothers’ barks are worse than their bites.”
Kit looked up with a broad grin. “I like you. Even if you are a witch.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “I have a little secret to tell you.” I leaned in close to whisper into her ear. “I’m not actually a witch.”
Kit giggled and whispered back, “I know, silly. It’s fun to pretend, though, isn’t it?”
I couldn’t help but smile. “It sure is.”
“I was hoping I could still come see you. I don’t care what my brothers say. I like you. They aren’t my bosses, anyway. I’m a grown woman.”
“Where do they think you are right now?” I asked, glancing toward the front window half expecting to see them storming up to the door with rage.
“I snuck out,” Kit said with a smile. “They’re distracted right now. It seems everything has them angry and stomping out of the house, and today was no different, so I decided it was a sign I should come to see you.”
Well, the little imp has some spunk after all.It was another thing that made us friends, and that was exactly how I’d come to think about Kit. Despite my momentary misgivings, wondering if her brothers would agree, I nodded. I didn’t have a great many friends, and I liked Kit. Besides, sister or not, Kit wasn’t some kid who could be bossed around by her overbearing brothers for no reason other than to flex their muscles… their very large muscles.
“I don’t see anything wrong with being friends. You’re welcome here anytime.”
Kit nibbled at her thumbnail for a second and then said, “My brothers work too hard running my father’s business. And they spend all their free time taking care of me. They are all just lonely. You would like each of them if you gave them a chance. Their names are Jay, Banks, and Rye, by the way. I’m the baby in the family, and they definitely treat me as one sometimes.”
“Only girl?” I asked.
She nodded, her angelic smile lighting her face. “Yes. I was the miracle baby. My mom and dad had tried for years and years to have a girl. They always had boys, and then many years later—after my brothers were grown—I came as a surprise.” She paused and studied me. “My brothers can be scary. Like my dad was. But they aren’t. Not really.”
I shrugged, not certain what Kit was getting at. “I’m sure your brothers are very nice men.” I wasn’t positive I actually believed that, but I wanted to reassure Kit that everything was all right. “Hey, are you hungry? I know it’s past lunchtime, but with Granny G gone, I’ve been a little lonely eating by myself. Would you like to join me?”
“Really?” Kit asked with such disbelief I wondered if she’d ever just hung out with friends before.
“Absolutely. We can eat and talk about your…” I paused, not believing I’d been about to suggest she give me the goods on her brothers.
What sort of person was I? I knew they didn’t even want their sister near me… and would most likely shit a brick if they found out we’d shared a meal.
“I’d love to,” Kit said, her smile lighting her face. “You can tell me more about plants and how they can heal, books you like to read and, just to give my brothers a hissy fit, maybe you can teach me a spell or two.”
She didn’t only have spunk, she had a great sense of humor. Regardless of what her brothers thought, I would never take advantage of Kit, but wouldn’t attempt to stifle her either.
“Great. The apartment is upstairs. I’ll let my assistant, Julie, know I’ll be unavailable if you want to go ahead and raid the fridge.”
Kit practically flew across the floor and up the stairs. After finding Julie in the storeroom and asking her to watch the shop until I returned, I climbed the stairs as well. I hadn’t been lying, either. Since Granny G had died, I’d eaten every meal alone. It would be nice to share not only some food but some conversation, no matter the topic.
By the time I made it upstairs, Kit had not only pulled containers of leftovers from the fridge but had set the small table in the kitchen nook.
“I love your place, Goldie.” She giggled and added, “It reminds me of your name. Your home is like a golden painting you just want to walk into and stay a while. It’s so bright and colorful.”
That was true. Both Gigi, when she was alive, and I had loved to surround ourselves with color and sunlight. The walls were golden yellow, the trim white, and vivid spots of color were scattered throughout the living room in throw pillows on the couch and rag rugs scattered on the wooden floors. The kitchen appliances were old—or, as I preferred to call them—retro. Both the fridge and the oven were lemon yellow, a color that was warm and welcoming. The table we sat at was once popular in many homes in the ’50s. The surface was red, the legs chrome, and the chairs reminded me of those found in ice-cream parlors. They were wrought iron, painted white, with pretty filigree filling their heart-shaped backs, and had thick, red padded seats.
As Kit and I filled our plates with our choices, we chatted about anything that popped into our heads. I didn’t push her for information on her brothers but didn’t stop her when she offered a few tidbits. We discovered we not only shared a love of books, we shared a love of a lot of the same authors. Kit had such an inquisitive mind, soaking information up like a sponge. Her positive outlook about everything made me forget about how down I’d been, mourning my grandmother’s death for the past few months. When my cell phone rang, I almost hated to answer it.
“What’s up?” I asked, seeing the shop number appear on the screen.
“Sorry to bother you, but there’s a delivery you need to sign for,” Julie informed me.
