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CHAPTER 3
MARIGOLD
It’s been a few days since I met Sergio in the alley, and I haven’t been able to forget about him. I’ve tried. I’ve tried to force myself to think about other things. I’ve tried to get lost in a book.
I didn’t think forcing myself would work, but reading has always been my escape and for it not to be working either is freaking me out. What does it mean that his face, with his chiseled jaw covered in stubble, and his sharp, dark eyes, pop into my mind all the time? He was the most handsome man I’ve ever seen up close.
I swear he could go toe-to-toe with the sexiest of book boyfriends and I’ve had a lot of those over the years. It wasn’t just his looks either, his entire presence did something to me. He was so commanding and in control.
It was sexy as fuck.
I should have been afraid when he approached me in the alley. I’m not stupid and I know bad things normally happen where there aren’t a lot of people to witness them. He could have been dangerous, and he certainly had the muscles and bulk to be able to hurt me if he wanted to. I just wasn’t worried about it.
From the moment I looked into his eyes, so intent and sinful, I knew he wouldn’t hurt me. Everything in me was screaming to step into his arms and ask him to wrap me up in the comfort I knew I’d find against his chiseled chest which was barely contained in his clothing.
I’m not even sure how I didn’t ask him to do just that.
I also can’t explain the confidence which took over when I gave him a little attitude and asked him who he was, since he had demanded the same of me. Confidence isn’t exactly something I’ve been known to have, but with him it felt like I could stand tall, and not only would he not hurt me, but he’d have my back.
It was an odd feeling and something I’m still feeling now even though it’s days later. If I could bottle this feeling, I’d be a fucking millionaire.
“Grandpa?” I call out as I push into his office and my eyebrows pull together when I don’t find him inside. “I thought for sure he was in here,” I mumble as I make my way to the desk.
When I look down to see if there’s some work I can take off my grandfather’s plate, I notice an envelope from the electric company. That wouldn’t be a terrible thing, but the big letters that say ‘past due’ are a little alarming. There’s also a letter from the bank underneath it.
My heart skips a beat because this bookstore is my life. It’s been here for me for as long as I can remember.
If I didn’t work here, I don’t know what I would do. I know it matters just as much to my grandfather as it does to me. It’s his connection to my grandmother and their love.
Business has been down lately, even more than normal. I haven’t been able to figure out why and it’s been bothering me.I don’t know if I’ve been hyper attuned to it because of the developer who stopped in or what, but I swear we’ve gotten less foot traffic in the few weeks since he came in and gave me the creeps.
Maybe it’s just a down month and everything will right itself given a little time.
Somehow, I don’t even believe my own bullshit.
I pick up the letter from the bank, tempted to open it and find out exactly what it says, but fear stops me. I shouldn’t be looking. If he wants me to know, he’d tell me. Right?
I put the envelope down, determined to find my grandfather and ask him about the notice from the electric company and talk to him about it. He must know I’m in his corner and will do anything in my power to help him. Not like I know what I could possibly do to turn it around. I wish I did. I would have done it already if I knew what to do.
Or maybe I won’t say anything about the notice either. If I mention it, he’ll probably know I saw something from the bank. Are they related? Is it bad? What could it possibly say?
The confidence from talking to Sergio evaporates and I’m back to being the scared girl who has always found solace in books and doesn’t want to look up to find out the world around me is dark and gritty.
I almost run into my grandfather as I step through the doorway, gasping while pressing one hand to my chest and reaching out with the other to steady us. “I was looking for you,” my voice sounds much higher than it normally does, as if I’ve been caught doing something I shouldn’t be doing.
Which is silly because there’s no reason for me not to be in his office. Just like there’s no reason for him not to share about the late bill. How many more are there?
I swallow down my questions while noticing the way the man in front of me, who I’ve always respected, shifts uncomfortably. He clears his throat before he asks, “Did you need something, sweetheart?”
Deflection. Interesting.
I stand there and allow the silence between us to get right on the edge of awkward. I want to give him the chance to tell me what is going on. I need him to share the truth with me. He’s always been a proud man, which is something I can respect, but this isn’t just about him.
This is my business too.
When I can’t take it anymore, I blurt out, “No, I was just coming to see if you wanted anything for lunch. I’m going to run down the street and grab something from the deli. I know it’s your favorite.”
His eyes light up as if he’s glad for the change in subject and my heart sinks. I don’t think he’s hiding the truth to be cruel; I think he’s doing it to protect me. It’s both maddening and sweet.
