Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 71701 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71701 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Solana seems to sense the shift in my mood, and she takes it upon herself to fix it, the way she has a habit of doing.
“Judge, you haven’t seen my shop yet.” She offers me a coy smile as she tosses her gym bag over her shoulder. “And I have it on good authority that we have one of the best coffee shops in the world right next door. The secret is chicory, of course.”
Judge moves his gaze to me, and though I’m silent, he can see that I’m hopeful. I don’t expect him to give in, honestly, but he does.
“I suppose we have some more time before we have to be home.”
I sneak my hand over to his and give it a gentle squeeze of gratitude even though it seems somewhat ridiculous. I don’t like requiring permission to do these things, but I’m used to it, and I’m also grateful that he’s giving me more small freedoms.
We don’t bother with the car when we exit onto the street. Instead, we walk the two blocks to Solana’s shop on foot. It feels good to be back among these familiar places, but I can feel the strain radiating from Judge as he scans the street the entire time, checking for threats.
When Zen Apothecary comes into view, a familiar warmth spreads through my chest. Everything looks the same from the window. Inside, the quaint little shop has shelves made of reclaimed wood and old oak floors that creak when you step over them. Baskets of lavender and racks of potted plants adorn the entrance. It smells just as I remember it too. Incense, loose leaf teas, locally sourced herbal tinctures, essential oils, and Solana’s line of skin care all combine to flood my senses. It’s the scent of Solana. Of course, the aroma of coffee and beignets from next door doesn’t hurt either.
“Take a seat.” Solana gestures at the small bistro table in the corner. “I’ll get the coffee called in.”
Judge frowns, but before he can say anything, Madame Dubois enters the shop with a flourish, her long dress swishing around her feet. She’s heading toward her small private corner of the shop where she resides during business hours as the in-house fortune teller. But before she can make it that far, she comes to a dead halt, her features pinching in distaste, and then she turns. At first, her eyes move over me, filled with obvious relief, and then they take on a hard edge as she turns to examine Judge.
“You.” She points a steady finger at him as if she’s cursing him. “Your fear does not serve you.”
He arches an eyebrow at her, his face a mixture of amusement and annoyance. That is until she speaks again.
“Let go of the past before it robs you of what was always meant to be yours.”
Something dark flashes through Judge’s eyes, and even I find myself frowning. Madame Dubois has been known to be a little out there, and I always found her predictions to be more amusing than anything, but what she said seems to have struck a chord with Judge as he shifts in his chair uncomfortably.
“Someone’s feeling feisty today,” Georgie murmurs.
“You can say that again.” I watch Madame Dubois take one more step before she pauses again and turns to me.
“It’s good to see you back, but you should take care not to be so reckless.”
And with that annoyingly accurate observation that Judge snorts at, she disappears behind her curtained area.
“Okay.” Solana returns to us with a small paper bag in hand. “I think this should do it.”
Judge stares at her in confusion as she hands it to him, and I smile at her. Even though she clearly thinks he’s a beast, she can’t help being herself.
“There’s sandalwood incense and soap,” she says. “And a mood elixir, well, for obvious reasons.”
“Thanks,” Judge grouses.
“Um, can you tell your guys to at least stand a little farther away from the shop door,” she huffs as she stares outside. “They’re scaring off all my patrons.”
Judge looks like he’s perfectly fine with the idea, and I don’t doubt he’s tempted to hand over his credit card and buy out the entire shop because right now, for whatever reason, he’s still on edge. His eyes move over everyone that comes through the door, and he’s checked my old phone twice since we’ve been here, which seems odd.
“What do you keep looking at on there?” I whisper as Georgie and Solana discuss the placement of her new air plant display.
“Nothing,” Judge grunts in response.
Before there’s any more time to argue, a guy wearing the familiar apron from the coffee shop next door enters. It’s not the usual delivery boy who has a mad crush on Solana, so his eyes move over the shop before settling on Judge and me.