Smooth Moves

by Betty McBride

  SMOOTH MOVES

  By

  Betty McBride

  Copyright © 2013 RascalHearts.com

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.

  For questions and comments about this book, please contact us at Info@RascalHearts.com

  Chapter One

  Unwrapped and feeling exposed, Candice turned her head so Dr. Peters could check her skin. She waited, knowing he would tell her to cut down on the caffeine and lose the cigarettes. Hearing it all before, he should know by now that she wasn’t in a mental state to care. It wasn’t that she hated herself, just that society wouldn’t look the other way long enough for her to mend her shredded self-image.

  “Candice, how much do you smoke now?”

  Here we go…

  “A little under a pack a day.” She avoided his knowing gaze and hurried to add, “I’ve cut back. I used to smoke a pack and a half.”

  The doctor sighed as he nodded, “You know that continuing to smoke will keep the rash present. Did you cut out caffeine?”

  At her cringe, his fingers flew over the keyboard once again. She’d learned to hate that rap-tap of his fingers. When he’d finally stopped it, he asked, “Any joint, muscle, or lower back pain?”

  “Only when the weather changes.”

  His wry grin proved that he’d heard and understood before he motioned toward his eyes, “Are you still using the drops daily?”

  She nodded, wanting to put her shades back on to keep the glare from hurting her head. At her tired and pained expression, he handed her dark sunglasses back to her, “Mentally, do you feel better than the last visit?”

  “Please don’t ever put me on any pills to block addiction to nicotine again.”

  “You know I don’t like those. If you have to, use candy instead of the cigarettes. Trust me. I used to smoke. The first three days are the worst.”

  She’d begged Dr. Peters to put her on something to help stop smoking after both eyes blistered at once and her mind crashed, causing an inability to do her job. The result had stressed her beyond anything she’d previously felt. With the current blistering of the left eye, caused from the Lupus she continually endured, came pain in her cheek and eyebrow. He offered a low-dosage narcotic which she immediately shot down. Although required to take meds to keep her kidneys, lungs, and heart from damage, she vehemently hated side effects and pills in general.

  In fact, the whole health care process was so irritating that it was depressing in itself. She’d gotten toxic shock syndrome at age seventeen and had been administered something to stop a resulting stroke. Ever since, she hadn’t seen an end in sight from the barrage of doctors and specialists. After subsequently suffering shingles and Epstein Barr, she’d slowly developed multiple syndromes with elaborate names she couldn’t pronounce.

  The doctor now warned her about taking too many over-the-counter meds. She hid her smirk, remembering the pharmaceutical representative whose obvious double take had made her clench her teeth. Didn’t they train new hires in tactful communication? Where’s the pretty blonde rep who wore too much perfume?

  After the doctor handed her the scripts, she draped the silk scarf over her face once again. Feeling despondent, she mentally wished part of her electric bill payment goodbye as she handed it to the office worker. Slipping out the door, she eyed the Halloween décor as she crossed the street to the pharmacy. Once the scripts had been dropped off, she ducked around the corner to have a quick cigarette.

  Next stop—the grocers…ugh!

  A manager there had gone to high school with her and never failed to remind her of the former clear-skinned beauty she’d been. Now, no matter what she did, her efforts resulted in rashes which made her look like a strung-out druggie. The butterfly rash currently marring her face spread from forehead to chin while her body was covered with what appeared as bug bites.

  She’d been sneered at, endured meth jokes, and asked what grade of weed made her eyes so bloodshot. Growing sick of it, she’d covered herself from head to toe and donned the shades. Unfortunately, she was forced to grow accustomed to small-town life where everyone thought they knew her business and never tired of either giving well-meaning advice or avoiding her completely.

  Stubbing her cigarette butt out, she tucked it into an empty package and glanced around the corner. A new shop was going in beside the doctor’s office. Spying someone moving around inside, her gaze shot to the empty place where the sign should be but was missing. Her cell chirped, signaling that her meds were done so she quickly dashed around the corner while trying to delete the text.

  She slammed into a wall of hard muscle, causing her cell phone to go flying and her glasses to crash to the pavement. Squeaking as the ends of her silken scarf fluttered into her lowered vision, she watched in horror as the lens of her shades skated over the concrete. Hands suddenly grabbed her upper arms, “Oh, crap! Are you okay?”

  Her vision shot forward, encountering a starched business shirt with a tuft of chest hair curling out of the top. A hand suddenly tipped her chin up, causing her to look upward. Unused to human touch as well as the sun glaring full force into her eyes, she tensed as a cry flew out of her throat when she tried to focus.

  He suddenly drew her around him into the shadows while saying, “Let me guess…migraine?”

  The fact that this man didn’t know her combined with his lack of ready judgment made her jaw slacken above his fingertip. She backed directly into the wooden bench behind her, sitting down with a thump. He smoothly sat beside her, taking in her intensely curious expression as she studied his face.

  His expression didn’t change as he asked, “Am I right?”

  She shook her head, “I have…um…Lupus. It makes my eyes blister which causes pain and sensitivity to light. That’s why my face is…” Deciding against the word ugly, she added, “…why I have a rash on my face.”

  His head tilted in thought before the door suddenly opened and a pharmacy assistant said, “Candice, your prescriptions are ready.”

  Noticing the tall, strikingly handsome man at Candice’s side, the woman’s eyebrows flew up. Candice ignored the assistant’s obvious surprise and rose to gather her broken shades and cell phone. Stuffing them into her pocket, she kept her face down as she quickly headed toward the pharmacy. From behind her, the assistant’s tone implied she liked what she saw, “Excuse me, Mr. Danton. Can I help you find something?”

  “No, ma’am, but thank you. I’m with her.”

  Candice frowned, risking a glance over her shoulder to find him following her. She looked around and discovered no other female in the store.

  What did he…? Who’s he with?

  Thinking he couldn’t mean he was with her, she quickly paid for her meds and turned to leave. He walked along with her, “You have no idea who I am, do you?” When she shook her head, he said, “My name’s Rich. Nice to meet you, Candice. I’m new in town as you’ve probably already figured out.” He flashed an unnerving grin and rushed on, “I was wondering if you’d like to go get something to eat.”

  Waiting until they were away from the prying eyes of the pretty pharmacy assistant, she turned outside the pharmacy and asked suspiciously, “Why? I mean…look at me.”

  Shrugging nonchalantly, he studied her face and blurted out, “Because people eat food.” When her eyes narrowed, he quickly added, “I need to apologize for the shades and your phone anyway. Let me buy you dinner.”

  “I ran into you, not the other way
around. You don’t need to apologize and I don’t need your pity.”

  “My pity…for what?” Realizing this wasn’t going well, he suddenly said, “I’d just like to get to know you, Candice. I know many people that suffer from migraines so we already have something in common. Like I said, I’m new in town and…”

  Choosing bluntness to get rid of him, she snapped, “You could ask any woman on a date. Go find one. Trust me. They’d gladly go.”

  “I don’t want to ask any woman out. I want you to go with me.” When that garnered a look of sheer disbelief, he begged, “Oh, come on…please!”

  With his expression so sincere and her stomach growling at the thought of her empty pantry, she shielded her eyes and shrugged. Not trying to be rude but knowing that he’d catch on quickly when people started to talk, she sighed and slowly nodded.

  Dimples sprang onto his cheeks as he leaned toward her. She quickly leaned back but he grabbed her chin once again as he said, “You have the prettiest eyes. Are they fake? I can’t see the lens’ outlines.”

  Used to shying away from scrutiny and rattled from his male aroma assaulting her senses, she pulled her chin away from his fingers but he ignored her suspicious stance. His hand dropped to her lower back, guiding her across the street where the doctor’s office was located as he said, “Do you watch much TV?” She shook her head so he continued, “My family is opening a deli. Do you mind if we eat there or do you want to eat someplace with more people?”

  Her eyes widened as they flew to the new business. Oh…he just wants a food tester.

  She shrugged, stifling the shiver but unable to delete the breathless tone of her voice, “That’ll be fine. What kind of deli?”

  “We’ll offer healthier foods, many items for vegetarians, and a variety of juices. In fact, I just made a batch of juice. Do you ever drink juice blends? Please tell me you’ll try it. I need someone’s opinion.”

  “You just wanted me to try your food and juice, that’s it?”

  At his frown, she realized her tone sounded extremely rude so she quickly offered, “I’m sorry, Rich. I’m used to people ignoring or quickly turning me down for a variety of stuff. I’ll try it and give you the best opinion that I can, okay?”

  Sensing an opportunity, she added, “Oh and I blog, too. If I like it, maybe someone out there will read what I say and try it.”

  Appearing amused, his grin widened, “Where do you work?”

  She shook her head, “I freelance—write articles and blog—since this…” Her hand motioned toward her face, “…no one will hire me.”

  His eyebrow shot up, “I’ll hire you.”

  She watched him bring a mossy looking beverage back to her while shaking her head, “You don’t have to pay me to blog.”

  “No, I mean to work here.”

  Horrified at the idea of appearing in public, she vehemently shook her head, “I’d scare away the public!”

  “I didn’t see the pharmacist or the assistant running from you. I didn’t scream when you bounced off me. You really shouldn’t let the public dictate your life, Candice.”

  “That’s easy for you to say. You don’t break out in a full body rash when a mosquito bites you.”

  He motioned toward the drink, “Have you ever thought of juicing? It’s extremely healthy and might be just the thing you need.”

  She stared at him, “You sound like my doctor.”

  He laughed and picked up his own drink, downing half and licking his green mustache away before waiting for her to drink some. Her lip curled at the green substance, “What’s in it?”

  “Oh, no. You have to try it first and tell me what you taste. I think you’ll be surprised, though. Before you drink it, is there any type of fruit or vegetable that your doctor or pharmacy warned you to stay away from?”

  More curious than before, she shook her head as he continued, “Many people find, after the first couple of swallows, that they can’t stop drinking it and want more when finished.”

  Narrowing her eyes, she admired his salesmanship but picked up her glass to sniff. Her eyebrows flew up, “I smell…pineapple?”

  He grinned, “That’s in it.”

  She took a sip and grimaced as she swallowed, “It’s kind of thick.”

  “That’s because it’s pure vegetable and fruit juice.”

  A variety of flavors danced over her tongue—pineapple and something exotic amongst them—as she asked, “Why’s it green?”

  “What do you taste?”

  “Celery, pineapple…” She took another drink and, to her surprise, felt a rush flood her brain. Her eyes widened as she drank half the glass before coming up for air, “Wow! You’re telling me that’s only fruits and vegetables.”

  He nodded, “It is. What do you taste?”

  “Citrus and a mossy taste but it’s not bad. I feel energized.”

  He laughed, “You’re body needed nutrients. See…you’re even smiling.”

  She suddenly realized she was as she brought the glass to her lips again. He watched her as he said, “Let me make you one of our specialties.”

  After drinking the remainder, she asked if he had a menu. Nodding, he asked again what she tasted.

  “Is there spinach in it? I know you said pineapple. A bit of apple.”

  He nodded, “Spinach and kale. A little grape, too.”

  She licked her lips and nodded, “It’s good. What other blends do you have?”

  “I don’t have them mixed at the moment. Take a look.” He handed her a menu before he grabbed sandwiches which were slipped to him from the back. Her eyes ran down the menu as she realized her headache had faded a bit. She brought the menu closer to her face, knowing the headache usually worsened when she focused on something closer. Muted pain struck, causing her eyes to fly to the drink.

  Looking back at the menu, she took in the motto on the bottom; Smooth Moves offers an apple smoothie a day to keep the specialists at bay.

  He set a plate in front of her while saying, “There’s a lot to be said about proper nutrients. What do you usually eat, Candice?”

  Her mind flew to the angel food cake and coffee she’d had for breakfast. Wincing, she shook her head, “Don’t ask. My diet is hideous.”

  He cocked an eyebrow, “You need to juice for at least a month while eating nothing else. You’ll reset your body’s nutrients and probably be much healthier after that.”

  “Next, you’ll tell me that it cures Lupus.”

  “I’m not a doctor but I know many people that have had their health turned around by juicing. Cancer, allergies, and a variety of ills have been driven into remission by consistently consuming juice. I mean…look at me. I drink it all the time.” Pointing to the sandwich, he said, “That’s homemade bread with no meat. Organic lettuce, tomatoes, chick-pea spread, and a sauce we blend on the premises.”

  Having taken a bite, she chewed as she stared at the delicious spread. Remembering his offer of a job, she seriously thought about it but hid her interest. Instead, she swallowed and asked, “How much do you charge for your juice?”

  Dimples sprang into his cheeks as victory leapt into his eyes, “Our employees drink all the juice they want for free. If you continually blog about us, I’ll even feed you any time you’re hungry without charge.”

  Her eyes widened, “Seriously?”

  He nodded, eyeing her delicate cheekbones and vibrant eyes. She was the type of woman that had low self-esteem but actually was quite pretty. He leaned forward with a sly smile, “Promise to have lunch with me?”

  “Um…sure!”

  She slammed her mouth shut, realizing he’d caught onto her eagerness when dimples sprang onto his cheeks again. His eyes dropped to her lips as she took a bite before pinning her in place when they locked onto hers. The blush that flooded her cheeks as her eyes widened made him drop his gaze.

  Suddenly wanting to be healthier more than ever so that he’d look at her again, she mentally slapped herself Oh, please! You’re no vi
rgin so quit acting like it. Besides, he’s nowhere near your league! The man has arrogance oozing from his pores.

  The thought made her wonder what her type really was. Since she’d stopped dating at nineteen, the last five years had been avoiding society and silently trying to heal her wounds through work, work, and more work.

  Every time a new client asked for a headshot, though, she grew even more depressed when she had to send them one from her teenage years. Those photos didn’t portray professionalism but the carefree attitude of a teenager who thought her presence was a gift to earth.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Surprised out of her personal reverie, she shrugged, “Nothing, why?”

  Appearing hurt that she’d focused on something other than him, he said, “You were a million miles away.”

  Having lost her appetite and suddenly anxious under his intense gaze, she placed her sandwich down and wiped her mouth. When she went to cover her face again with the scarf, his hand shot out to stop her, “Please don’t do that.”

  “Why not? You can’t possibly want to eat with this rash staring you in the face. It’s gross.”

  He pointedly stared at her as he took a bite of his sandwich. Tucking it into his cheek, he said, “I don’t see a rash but the loveliest eyes on earth, Candice.”

  She stared at him, recognizing charm and trying to detect something hidden. Reading her suspicion, he shook his head, “I’ll prove it. Let’s go see a movie or something. What do people do in this town?”

  A derisive laugh flew from her, “Not much. Besides, if you want people eating here, I’m the last person you need to be seen with.”

  “Oh, stop it.”

  He insisted they do something but she shook her head, “I have too much work to do.”

  If truth be known, she only had one article but it needed attention before her electricity was cut. Her inability to pay wouldn’t be the first time. Dreading visits to the library, she asked, “Do you have Wi-Fi here?”

  He nodded, “I plan to offer it when we get the shop open. If you plan to blog, add that…okay?” At her positive nod, he asked if she wanted more juice. She asked if she could take it with her, hoping to make a hasty retreat. She enjoyed his company but was unused to the attention.