“So have you talked with Landers yet?” Roxie broached.
Lexie frowned. “Landers?”
Huh. So GQ’s words were tougher than his actions. He was still afraid to talk to his big sister. Roxie shook her head. She’d nearly worked herself sick over nothing.
“He came to The Ruckus last night in a huff.”
Lexie quickly set down her coffee. “Oh, no. He saw the newscast about the billboard.”
“I don’t think any of the cameras caught you or Maxie,” Roxie hurried to say.
“No, it was just you and your…” Lexie gestured to her chest area.
“I have very nice…” Roxie made the same motion. “They match yours pretty well, in fact.”
Lexie rolled her eyes. “What did he do?”
“Chewed on me a bit. Told me how I was bringing you and the Underhills down.”
Lexie’s jaw set, but she patted her lips with her napkin before responding. “I’m sorry he gave you a hard time.”
Roxie shrugged. “He thinks he’s defending you.”
“Defending me?” Lexie seemed truly surprised.
“Well, Billy put a stop to it.”
“Uh oh.”
Roxie pushed away the remainder of her soup. She could see where her sister’s thoughts were heading. Stack Ivy League Landers against biker mechanic Billy and there was no question who would walk away with blood on his shoes.
“Billy promised he didn’t hurt him.”
Although he had been impressive, muscles flexing as he’d dragged Richie Rich out of the bar.
“I’ll call Blaire later to see how things are at the house,” Lexie murmured.
“There might have been a news crew outside when it happened.” Underneath the table, Roxie’s foot rocked back on its heel. “Sorry.”
“For what? He’s the one who stomped into your place.”
“And I’m the one who led us on our merry chase yesterday.”
Lexie tried to look stern, but her lips broke form and turned upward in a smile. “And a merry chase it was.”
She started laughing. “Oh my God, it was like all the Fast and Furious movies rolled up into one.”
Roxie finally chuckled, some of the heavy weight lifting off her shoulders. “Did Maxie make it out of Dodge safely?”
“She was full of adrenaline.”
Their sister had led a very careful, tightly wound life until they’d met her. More and more, she was learning to spread her wings and fly.
“I bet Zac had a good night,” Roxie said dryly.
Lexie tilted her head. Her hair was held back in a clip, but one tendril slipped forward across her temple. “How was Billy’s?”
Roxie actually felt herself blush. Hell’s buckets. That was twice in a week that she’d done that.
“We rumbled and then we made up.” She held up three fingers, just letting them peek over the edge of the table.
Lexie’s eyes rounded. “So things there are going well?”
Roxie’s shoulders dropped, and she scrubbed her hands over her face. “I don’t know how they’re going,” she replied honestly.
She rested her hands into her lap and looked out the window at the row of shops across the street. One in particular caught her eye.
“Sex has never been the problem.” Her teeth caught her cheek at the half lie. The act itself had never been a problem. The implications… Now there was a hot potato.
“You still have feelings for him,” Lexie said softly. “A blind man could see that.”
Roxie couldn’t deny it. Billy could light her up one moment and rip her to shreds the next.
Reaching across the table, Lexie caught her hand. “Don’t shut him out, Rox. He’s special.”
“You’re just entranced by his green eyes.”
Lexie let out a sigh, but didn’t let go of her hand. “They are dreamy.”
“And then there’s the sexy mechanic thing.”
“That hot body and the leather…”
“Whoa, Nellie.”
Lexie smiled. “And he’s yours.”
The intimate acknowledgment and support from her sister made Roxie squirm in her seat. Billy hadn’t really been hers for a very long time. They might still have the hots for one another, but their real relationship… That one deep down? It had fallen apart years ago. She was the one who’d sent the divorce papers to make it official.
Lexie sealed their hands palm to palm, fingers weaving tight. “I don’t need to know all the details—although Maxie wants to—but we both like him. A lot. What we like most is the way you are around him.”
“A crazy sap?”
“Yourself.” Lexie pressed her lips together as if she didn’t want to say anything more, but then she continued. “Sometimes I think you put on a front or hold yourself back around me, because you’re afraid of how I might react. Like I might be surprised or disapproving. I hate that I make you feel that way.”
Roxie quickly shook her head, even as her throat got thick. She’d been pretending most of her life, putting on the masks that teachers, foster parents, and social workers wanted to see.
She just didn’t want Lexie or Maxie to ever go away.
Lexie squeezed her hand tighter when she didn’t answer. “You don’t do that with Billy. I honestly don’t think you can.”
“But things are so complicated between us.”
“Like they were between me and Cam?” Lexie whispered. “They always are with the ones who matter most.”
They both sat back in their seats, somewhat embarrassed when the waitress dropped by with their check. The air around the table was heavy, and the mousy little brunette seemed to realize she’d stumbled into something at the wrong time. She swept up their empty plates, but a knife clattered onto the table as she spun away in retreat.
Lexie squeezed Roxie’s hand one more time before letting it go. “And you are a crazy sap.”
Roxie rolled her eyes, feeling the tears abate. “And you are a polite nymphomaniac.”
Lexie’s eyes popped open, and she looked around to make sure nobody had heard.
Roxie grinned and tossed her napkin onto the table. “But Cam seems to like that sort of thing.”
Lexie gathered her purse and stood. Uncharacteristically, she jabbed Roxie in the side as they headed to the cashier.
“Three times?” she hissed, eyebrows jumping. “You’re one to talk.”
When they walked out of the little coffee shop, it was arm in arm. They made it to Lexie’s car first. “Whatever happens between you and Billy, I’m on your side. You know that.”
Roxie nodded. She did. “We worked on the search today.”
“Did you find anything?”
“Zilch.”
“The PI hasn’t made any progress either.”
Roxie frowned, the anger building up in her gut again. “It’s like they didn’t want anyone to know about us. Like we were a big fat secret that didn’t exist. No birth announcements. No baptisms.”
“Maybe they couldn’t afford those things.”
Roxie stewed. Maybe. That, she could relate to. But still… The three of them were a big deal. Shouldn’t the news outlets have been interested? They were frickin’ identical triplets. “Thanks for coming out with me. I know it’s hard when you’re trying to get your company off the ground.”
Lexie shook her head. “Well, thank you for taking me along on your adventures.”
Roxie grinned. “You like them. You know you do.”
Lexie scrunched her nose, but she was smiling as she got into her car. Roxie continued down the street and waved as her sister drove past.
She continued on towards her car, feeling better about things. She and her sisters were tight. She might have to share Lexie with her sister’s adoptive siblings, but she wouldn’t let anyone shake her confidence again. Her sisters loved her.
And they liked Billy.
She sighed. So did she. She always had, but could she trust him?
She pus
hed the thought aside. She trusted him enough to accept his help in the search for her parents. That was all that mattered, because that was as far as it was going to go.
Speaking of the search, maybe she should hit the library and spin through some of that microfiche she wanted to see. She had her keys out of her pocket when impulse took over, and she found herself heading across the street instead.
The tiny little shop with the purple sign had caught her eye again. What the hell, she had a few hours to burn. The bell over the door jingled when she walked in. Over in the far corner, a woman turned. “Hello. Welcome to Fortunes Foretold.”
The place certainly looked the part. Roxie looked around the room, half-amused and half-curious. The store’s offerings were much as she expected. The items on the shelves leaned mostly towards handmade lotions and soaps. Herbs were in high supply, along with candles and scarves. And yup, there along the far wall were the tarot cards and crystal balls. They looked more like baubles from a home store than portals into the future.
“Can I help you?” the woman asked, her long skirt rustling. It was a wave of purples, greens and blues, and she set it off with a matching purple scarf over her black hair.
Roxie clicked her tongue. If she had pictured the proprietor of this shop, she would have had this woman pegged.
And that was a letdown.
So much for impulse. Her amusement-to-curiosity ratio teetered more towards the former. Now that she was inside, the shop seemed much less interesting. “I was just wondering if you do as your sign suggests?”
“Foretell fortunes?” came a quiet voice.
Roxie bounced in surprise. She didn’t like to be sneaked up on like that.
Turning, she found herself surprised again. The woman coming out of the back room was tall and so blonde, her hair was nearly white. Far from Romani, she seemed to be more of Scandinavian descent. She was gorgeous as all get out, but not the first thing that came to mind when someone thought of a mind reader.
And that had the needle on Roxie’s excitement meter moving.
The woman’s blue eyes were keen.
“I perform readings,” she said as casually as if she’d said she could use a dishwasher. “Would you like your fortune told?”
Roxie folded her arms and let one eyebrow lift. “No, I want you to tell me about my past.”
Chapter Nine
“Can you do that?”
A pensive look crossed the woman’s face. “I don’t know. I’ve never tried before.”
Well, that seemed honest.
“Nobody’s ever asked me to look back in time.” The so-called psychic hooked her long hair behind her ear. She seemed intrigued. “I’d be willing to try.”
Roxie chewed her lip. Her curiosity was piqued, but her amusement was quickly being replaced by suspicion. Or maybe it was guardedness. There was something about the way the woman was looking at her. It was as if she was trying to peer into her soul.
That was something Roxie was not comfortable with, soul peering.
“Are you for real?” she asked bluntly.
If she’d expected a reaction, she didn’t get one. “I have special abilities,” the woman said, so self-assured it made Roxie jumpy.
Yeah? Well, she had special talents, too. She could pour a beer without a head in ten seconds flat, and her boobs had been known to stop traffic.
She lifted her chin. “Think you can read me?”
“Only if you want to be read.”
That was the real question, wasn’t it? She’d seen the sign and had thought, “What the hell?” With the way her life was going, it would be nice to have a little help knowing which direction to turn. Now that she was here, though, she wasn’t as sure she wanted the veil pulled back. Prickles had settled onto the back of her neck, and she couldn’t keep her right foot flat on the floor.
“What does that mean?” she asked.
“Some people build up barriers.”
Well there you had it. The mind reader wouldn’t be able to get inside her head. She was Barrier Girl with a capital “B.”
“You’re the woman from the billboard,” the shop owner observed.
Roxie winked. “You don’t have to be psychic to know that.”
“No, you just have to watch the evening news.”
Roxie shifted. Was that going to be a problem? Had the woman formed an opinion of her? Plenty of people had something to say about that billboard. “Is that going to be a barrier?”
“It might be a bias.” The blonde cocked her head, and her straight hair fell to nearly her waist. “I happen to think it’s genius advertising.”
Roxie relaxed.
“Come in the back with me,” the tall woman said gently. Everything she said or did was that way, soft and subdued. Calming and entrancing.
It was part of the act, the scheme to make people comfortable enough to reveal themselves. Roxie knew how con artists worked, yet she still found herself following without a peep. The psychic looked like a schoolteacher dressed in light-colored slacks and a peach top. Standing next to her, Roxie felt dark and edgy.
The grifter was good, keeping her off-balance in unusual ways.
If she was a grifter…
Roxie glanced over her shoulder at the salesgirl who’d returned to stocking shelves. She’d almost prefer to have gone with the pretend gypsy, knowing everything was just for fun. Shadows and mirrors. Distraction and deception.
The blonde Viking was making her nervous.
On guard, she entered the back room. She became even more confused when it turned out to be more comfortable than her own living room. The furniture was plush, again in those soothing neutral tones. The lighting was dimmed, but the air was warm. She flinched, though, when she saw movement. Something flashed along the wall before disappearing behind a loveseat.
A cat, she realized as she recognized a tail. Roxie’s lip curled reflexively. She preferred dogs.
“My name is Ingrid,” the woman said as she lit incense in the corner of the room. She frowned when she spotted the furry feline in the shadows. “I’m sorry, she usually prefers to sit in the front windows in the sunshine.”
That sounded like a good place to be.
“Would you like me to take her into the other room?”
Roxie’s gaze locked with a steady blue one. The cat had her in its sights. She drummed her fingers against her thigh. Experts seemed to have bred the predator out of most dogs, but cats still had those hunter instincts about them. “It’s fine,” she lied.
She wasn’t about to admit she was uneasy over a pussycat.
“Let’s sit over here.”
Following the woman’s direction, Roxie took a seat at a small circular table. It was covered with a dainty table runner, but no crystal ball was in sight. Blue cushions eased the harshness of the wooden chair. If the scent of the incense wasn’t so noticeable now, she would have sworn she’d wandered into a tearoom.
“Ingrid?” she said skeptically.
“I know, it’s exotic, but in the wrong way.” The blonde sighed, but nothing seemed to offend her. She took the seat on the opposite side of the table and began rubbing her hands together. “Let’s begin.”
She inhaled deeply and closed her eyes.
“Sage,” she said, explaining the scent that was filling the air. “It cleans out negative energy.”
Negative energy like nerves, doubt, and resistance? Roxie crossed her legs, and her foot bounced. She watched the psychic closely, aware of the little show she was putting on. It just seemed odd, with the blonde hair and the politician’s wife clothing. The whole scene bordered on the bizarre. This woman belonged in the PTA or, at the furthest, a ski chalet.
“You’re unsettled,” Ingrid noted when she opened her eyes. They were bluer than they’d been before.
Or maybe that was in Roxie’s head.
“I’ve never done this before,” she admitted. She’d been tempted, but she’d never followed through on the urge.
Damn her impulse control these days.
Damn Billy.
“That’s not what I meant,” Ingrid said. “Although that’s true, too. I’m just sensing a lot of upheaval in your life.”
Roxie drummed her fingers. As far as intuition went, it wasn’t that impressive. She knew what energy she was putting out. She was confused and jittery. Hell, even the cat knew that. She threw a glare in its direction when its tail swished. It was lying flat to the ground with its rump lifted.
She settled her hands in her lap. It was time to get serious, and she refused to help out this so-called mind reader any more than she already had. “There’s been a lot going on,” she said simply.
They were going to do this? Bring it.
A patient look settled on Ingrid’s face, and she turned her hands palms upward on the table. “For this to work best, why don’t you let me tell you what I see and feel? You don’t have to guide me. I just need to feel your energy.”
Roxie nodded. She was all for that. It would certainly be more convincing.
Not that she believed this woman could see her future.
Or her past. She had to remind herself that was why she was here.
“Okay, that’s fine with— Ah!” Roxie yelped. She nearly jumped out of her chair when a soft weight landed in her lap.
Ingrid let out a gasp and pulled back, too.
Roxie’s gaze locked with the cat’s. It stood in her lap, looking up at her with those tricky feline eyes. Her neck had never felt so vulnerable. She couldn’t tell if the evil little creature was going to go for her jugular or wanted to play.
“Oh, my goodness. I’m so sorry.” Finally, something had jarred Ingrid’s calm. She stood from her seat and reached for the ball of fur. “She’s never done this before. Let me—”
Not breaking eye contact, the cat sat down.
Ingrid paused, even more confused.
Something made Roxie hold up her hand. “It’s all right.”
As much as she didn’t trust it, the cat felt warm and soft. Its weight was grounding and comforting—for a cat. What confused Roxie the most was that her little friend was white. White and fuzzy and cuddly.
Damn it, clichés were started for a reason. Did this shop have to break every one of them?
Roxie Page 12
