Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 58295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
“Yeah, I had the wool leftover from a sweater I made to order.” Tabitha twitches the scarf this way and that, nodding and stepping back when she’s styled it to her satisfaction. “You’d be doing me a favor. It doesn’t go with any of my clothes.”
“Well, thank you. What do the holidays hold for you? You going to see your mom?”
Tabitha grimaces. “God no. She’s in the Seychelles until February. I’m going on a road trip down to a jewelry convention in Texas. Have a few estate sales to hit on the way there and back. So if you call me and it goes straight to voicemail, just know I’m in the canyon.”
We hug and Tabitha lopes off. I continue on towards the plaza.
I quicken my steps. I’m passing by the cobblestone alley that leads to The Chocolatier, but I don’t want to see it the way it is, the windows dark and a closed sign on the door. I want to imagine my shop brightly lit, full of happy people.
What did Mémère always say? Hold a picture in your mind of what you want. Do not think of the problem; picture the solution.
My mémère would visualize the business she wanted to build, even when she was young and penniless. She told me how she’d stand on the sidewalk in front of the building that would become her boarding house. She imagined the front door swinging open with people coming and going talking and laughing paying their bills. She imagined herself living a long life with her wealth growing. Rings on her fingers and emerald bracelets on her arms. And she built a successful business that supported her family. Even after she sold the boarding house, she had funds to pay for all my mother's college and med school and live in style. No man gave me this, she’d say, fingering a diamond ring. She funded all her grandkids' college, and we still all got an inheritance when she died.
The seed money for my shop came from that inheritance. I’m sorry, Mémère. I’m going to lose it, and I don’t know what to do.
If she were here now, Mémère would smile and straighten her diamond ring, her emerald bracelet. You’ve lost nothing, cher. Out of nothing, a way can be made. Reality follows you. Show it the way.
I have a few minutes before I’m supposed to meet Sadie for Christmas shopping.
I stop next to a snow covered flower bed and close my eyes. Hold a picture in your mind of what you want. The Chocolatier appears in my mind's eye–the window and door clean and polished to a sheen, smiling customers flowing in and out, each one carrying a white bag or two. Carrying the scent of caramel and chocolate on their winter coats. Carrying a bit of warmth and love in the form of chocolate creme and sugar dusted truffles.
When I open my eyes, I’ve got a big grin on my face. This is working!
I continue down the sidewalk, letting my dream unfurl. Happy customers, happy shop, happy landlord. Money piling up in my bank account. New clothes–silk and satin, lingerie from my favorite boutiques. Handcrafted lace next to my skin, enough to drive Rafe mad…
And he appears instantly, dark hair tousled, dark eyes drawing me in, the side of his mouth tipped up in a cocksure smile. His body flexes, six feet something of insane muscle. There’s a little line of dark hair trailing from his navel down into his black cargo pants. And then his pants disappear…
Sweet baby Jesus. I stop short and put a hand to my chest. No, no, no, Mémère. That is not what I want. He left me yesterday morning. He didn’t even stick around to hand me my keys.
He doesn’t want me, which upsets me. But what’s more annoying is–why is he being the sensible one? I’m supposed to be the one pushing him away, so I can keep my cushy job and get back to my shop.
The shop. That’s what all this is for. I don't need a freaking man.
I close my eyes and try again to hold a picture in my mind of what I want, but all I see is Rafe without a shirt or pants.
Goddammit! “Get out of my head, naked Rafe,” I mutter.
“What?” someone behind me growls, and I leap about fifteen feet into the air. I whirl to find Rafe’s right behind me, his hands grabbing my coat to steady me. How can a man so big move so quietly?
“Nothing,” I say crisply. “What are you doing here? Were you stalking me?”
“If I were stalking you, you wouldn’t notice,” he purrs, and my heart flips over. “I’m here to meet Deke, and I saw you from across the street. You looked like you were having a heart attack.”