Jane Eyre came out from around a range and jumped into her lap. Alice buried her face in the short-haired tabby’s fur and tried not to cry. The kitty was quiet, loving, and kept to herself, but she had a sort of sixth sense for when Alice was upset.
“Thanks for the womanly commiseration,” she whispered. Alice took a tissue from her desk and wiped her eyes. She was sure what she was doing was the right thing, but her emotions were still a mess. But that was what happened when you fell for the man you’d promised to fight.
***
Alice walked out of city hall without feeling the joy she thought she would. She was taking action and not allowing some big corporation take over her beautiful city. She was standing up for a simpler way, an educated life of books and conversation, rather than mindless flashing TV screens. But even though she knew she was right, her stomach rolled with the realization of what she’d done. As much as wanted to believe she could separate Paul from his business, she couldn’t. She felt as if she’d just attacked a friend.
***
Alice looked up to see a blond man in a business suit and two technicians walking through her store’s front door. She felt sweat instantly appear on her forehead. Paul said he would call someone, but she hadn’t expected it so soon. And here she just returned from throwing a wrench into his building plans. She felt more than a twinge of guilt. She stood, brushing papers to the side and startling Van Winkle.
“Miss Alice Augustine? I’m Larson McGee. I own Cane River Home Security.” He held out a hand and Alice took it, hoping her palms weren’t sweaty.
“Paul said you needed a consultation. We were working down the street and I said I’d stop in on the way back. Did you want to set up a time to go over what we could offer you in terms of security for your business and home?”
Alice cleared her throat. Be fire. She needed to make decisions as quickly as possible so she wasn’t spending the whole night awake. “I’m free right now, if you are.”
Larson smiled. “Works for me. Why don’t you show us around and then we can talk about different packages.”
She stepped around Mr. Rochester who was giving the intruders a cold stare, and headed for the rare book room. “Let’s start here.”
***
Paul pushed open the door to By the Book and felt his mouth go dry at the sight of Alice. She stood up from her desk and turned, her dark eyes fixed on him. He took a second to admire her red silk top and pencil skirt, and then he forced his eyes upward.
Her expression wasn’t just surprise but dread. Paul paused halfway across the floor. Maybe she thought he’d become a stalker. They’d spent most of the day together yesterday and then emailed in the middle of the night. He certainly was showing up every time she turned around. “Hi, Alice. I’m sorry I didn’t call but I have something for Bix.”
“For Bix?” she asked. Her dark eyes flickered down to the small box he held in his hand.
A tall black cat leaped from the top of the range, landing gracefully in front of him. Paul managed not to jump out of his skin. “That’s Darcy, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” She frowned down at the cat who had taken up a position in front of her, green eyes unblinking. “He doesn’t usually come down here. Either he really likes you or he really doesn’t.”
He continued towards her and Darcy didn’t twitch a muscle. The two of them stood like soldiers at a guard station. “How will I know which it is?” He stopped a few feet away.
“You won’t.” Alice put a fist to one hip and winked. “We’re good Southerners. We know how to be hospitable.”
Maybe it was the saucy wink that got him but Paul stepped forward. “Mm-hmm,” he said, letting his voice drop to a level that was just between them. “I think I can tell the difference. Not always, but every now and then it’s pretty clear.”
Her face went pink and he couldn’t help a little smile. Man, she was beautiful. “Will he be in today?”
“Who?” Alice asked.
He lifted the e-reader box. “Bix. I’d like to show him how this operates.”
“Oh, right. Actually,” she looked at her watch, “he should be here any moment. He and Charlie both come in on Monday afternoons. If you want to just…” She looked around the small space and the few comfortable chairs in corners of the bookstore.
“I’ll just sit over here, then.” He turned toward one of the chairs near the front.
“Oh, and thank you for calling the alarm company. They came this morning.”
“And how did it go? Did you feel comfortable with the package you chose? They’re usually pretty easy to operate. You won’t lock yourself out.” He tried to look reassuring.
She cocked her head. “Yes, I think it will work out. And do I look like the type to lock myself out of my house?”
“Well, no, but you―” He started to laugh, and then caught himself. She’d written those words herself not twelve hours ago, but that was to BWK. “I’m glad it will work out. Your inventory needs to be protected. I’m just going to sit over here and wait for Bix.”
He made his way to the overstuffed chair and settled in, shaking his head at one more stupid mistake. The best course of action was to just keep his thoughts to himself until Bix got here. The chair was near the window and the sunlight had warmed the red corduroy fabric. He put the box on his lap and stretched out. If only the apartment upstairs had this chair. It was perfect for gaming. He could feel himself sinking into it, body relaxing, anxiety easing away.
Alice stood for a moment, watching him, then went back to her desk. There was a short display between them and as soon as she sat down, she was hidden from view. Paul felt his phone buzz in his pocket but he didn’t feel like checking it. He leaned his head back and took in the long rows of shelves, the smell of old books and good coffee, the bright sun shining through and hitting the tiled floor.
He could hear her moving papers around on her desk. Even though they were thirty feet apart, he felt like they were sitting next to each other. And it felt good. He thought of how she said she’d loved a certain corner of the store and he wondered which one. The idea of a teenage Alice reading in a bright spot of sunlight for hours after school made him smile.
A long-haired cat wandered out from another room and he squinted at it. Was that Mrs. Gaskell? He couldn’t keep them all straight. It gave him a short glance and continued toward the desk. The store was so quiet, Paul could hear Alice whisper a few words to the cat. There wasn’t any of the usual beeps, buzzing, and background noise. Somewhere far away a clock ticked. He looked up at the pendant lights, absent of the usual annoying buzz of fluorescent lighting. The cars passed outside in a muted, almost soothing way, like waves gently hitting the shore.
He closed his eyes for a moment. Getting only a few hours of sleep didn’t bother him too much in college, but he wasn’t nineteen any more. He was going to need some coffee before he toured the construction site that afternoon. There was a coffee pot somewhere near, he could smell it. It was a dark Louisiana roast, probably Beau Monde. He should just get up and get himself a cup, just as soon as he relaxed a few more minutes in this amazingly comfortable chair.
Chapter Eighteen
Adding sound to movies would be like putting lipstick on
the Venus De Milo. ― Mary Pickford
Alice tried to read the papers in front of her but all she could think about was the man sitting just across the store. Paul must have some sort of meeting because he was wearing navy slacks, a blue button-up shirt, and nice leather shoes with thick soles. He was freshly shaved and looked well-rested. Nothing like what Alice felt, and what was confirmed when she looked into the mirror across from her desk. She looked old and haggard, with dark circles under her eyes.
She took a sip of coffee and grimaced. Cold. But she didn’t want to get up and rewarm it. Plus, she should have offered Paul some as soon as he came in the store. After they’d invited her over for lunch, she couldn’t even seem to remember to offer him a beverage. She had be
en so sure he was there because of the papers she’d filed, but he didn’t seem to know yet.
What would he say when he found out? She tried to take a deep breath and almost choked. After a few loud coughs, she managed to get control. She sat lower in her chair. This was torture. She felt as if every movement was magnified, echoing through the small space. What if she sneezed? Or worse? She could feel her face get hot just thinking about it.
Mrs. Gaskell crossed to her desk and wrapped herself around Alice’s feet. “Did you come to keep me company?” she whispered, lifting the kitty to her lap. Van Winkle wasn’t much of a cuddler and Alice appreciated visits from the more affectionate kitties.
Van Winkle didn’t even bat an ear when Mrs. Gaskell stepped off Alice’s lap and onto the desk, where she nosed around the papers. It was fine. Alice wasn’t getting any work done anyway. All she could do was sit here and pray Bix arrived within the next few minutes. As it was, it felt like two warring countries in a ceasefire.
Alice closed her eyes. She had no idea why she thought it was a good idea to flirt, even a little bit, with Paul. She wasn’t the type of girl who could pull off that sort of sassy comment. And he’d turned it right back on her, leaving her red-faced and humiliated. I think I can tell the difference. Not always, but every now and then it’s pretty clear. Well, not humiliated. More like… shyly reliving everything that was wonderful about that moment and hoping there would be another round somewhere in her near future.
Mrs. Gaskell jumped from the desk to the floor with a light thump. Alice wondered what Paul was doing. She hadn’t seen him pick out a book. Maybe he was reading on that machine or checking his phone. She desperately wanted to peer over the little bookshelf and check. He seemed so quiet. She sat back in her chair, considering. It was rare to find a person who could sit in silence. Most people needed their technology. They couldn’t face themselves, alone, and see what might surface. It was a lost art to be at peace in the middle of the hustle and bustle of the day. She had to admire him for that.
She reached for her cup and remembered the coffee was cold. Maybe she should offer him a cup now. She sat up straight, lifting her head until she could almost see over the short shelve between them. Then she slumped down again. That would look horrible if he caught her peeking at him. She should just stand up and walk to the coffee pot, then turn and ask if he wanted a cup, almost as an afterthought.
Alice swallowed hard. Her knees felt shaky and she wiped sweat from her forehead. It wasn’t so hard. Just get up. Get up! She forced herself to her feet, stepped out from behind her desk and headed for the coffee pot. She could almost feel his eyes on her. She wondered if her skirt was wrinkled in the back and how out of control her hair looked. Resisting the urge to smooth it back, she made it to the coffee pot and poured a cup, accidentally splashing the hot liquid onto the hand that held the mug.
Grabbing a napkin and pressing it to her burning skin, she tried not to hiss in frustration and pain. If she poured him a mug and brought it over, she just might trip and spill it on him, the luck she was having. But if she carried her mug back to her desk, he might think she was rude. Alice stood there, debating for what seemed like hours, all the while feeling Paul’s gaze on her.
Taking a breath, she fixed a smile to her face and turned around. “Would you like―” She broke off as she caught a glimpse of him in the chair. His head was leaned all the way back, eyes closed, hands resting in his lap. He was completely motionless. Alice frowned, wondering if he was meditating. Was he okay? She crept forward, intent on his face. When she got to less than a foot away, she could see his chest rising and falling. A faint sound issued from his throat.
Alice stood still, holding the mug in both hands, smiling. She couldn’t imagine falling asleep anywhere but her bed. She wasn’t the kind of person who could nap, even while traveling. Forget about sleeping in public, where anybody could see you, where you were completely vulnerable. She couldn’t fathom having that particular talent.
It occurred to her that she’d been agonizing over him while he slept peacefully. One more confirmation that Paul Olivier wasn’t like her. He was an extrovert that dealt with fans, crowds, and legions of interested females. She, meanwhile, lost a night of sleep over one kiss.
Now that he was asleep, she could finally get a good look at him without feeling awkward. She could see his mother’s features, but also the strong jaw and nose that must have come from his father. His dark, angled, brows made him look a little angry, even though he was completely at rest. It made her realize that some of his expressions might be less irritated than she’d perceived. His lashes were thick and full, true to the Creole genes. She’d thought his hair was straight but now she could see it curling a little at the temples. His legs were stretched out and she thought of how tall he was, at least six feet, but his mother was more Alice’s height. She wondered if Paul had any contact with his father.
A sound outside the glass door caught her attention and she looked up. Bix was coming through the door. She barely had time to step away from Paul as the little brass bell rang.
“Hello, Miss Alice,” Bix said. It sounded like a shout in the quiet room.
She waved him closer and pointed to Paul, who hadn’t moved a muscle. “He’s asleep,” she whispered.
Bix stepped close and leaned forward until he was just inches away. Alice covered her eyes with one hand, knowing Paul would wake up and have the scare of his life finding Bix at close range. “That he is, Miss Alice, that he is. How did you manage it?”
“I didn’t manage anything. I just offered him a seat.” She could feel her face flaming. “He was waiting for you.”
“For me?” Bix rubbed his chin. “Well, what do we do now? Looks like the poor fella needs his rest, wouldn’t you say?”
Alice said nothing. She didn’t know anybody who slept that deeply. Maybe he was faking it. Maybe it was a joke and they were being filmed as a prank. She glanced around nervously.
“Hi, guys!” Charlie burst through the door and almost fell flat when she saw Paul in the chair, head back, and eyes closed. “What on earth did you do?” She had on a black T-shirt that read ‘I Could Be Gaining Levels Right Now’ in bright yellow. Her blue eyes, ringed with heavy eyeliner, opened wide at the scene in front of her.
“Shhh,” Alice said. She needed to get away from the area before anyone else came in and decided to join in on the store’s new spectator sport. “And why do y’all think I did something? Do you both think I’m so crazy I’m just going to run around drugging people?”
Neither of them answered, but they both gave a “well, you know” expression.
“Fine,” Alice hissed. “I may be a little bit crazy but I would never hurt anyone. He sat down and fell asleep, I promise.” She frowned. “But he hasn’t moved at all.”
“You should wake him up. I gots to know why he wanted to talk to me.” Bix took off his hat and started unbuttoning his coat.
“Why me?” Alice lifted the mug in her hand. “I can’t. I’m holding―”
“Here.” Charlie took the mug from her hand and stepped back. “Now you can.”
Alice shot her a look and then leaned over Paul. “Hey,” she said softly. There was no response.
Charlie giggled and took a sip of the coffee.
“This isn’t funny,” Alice whispered. She crouched down next to the chair while Bix hovered on one side and Charlie lurked on the other. For just a moment, she saw how silly the situation was, and a laugh bubbled up inside. She forced it back down, trying to keep her face straight. A second later, the laugh emerged as a guffaw. Alice clapped a hand over her mouth but the dam had been breached. After just a few seconds, her shoulders were shaking and tears blurred her vision.
Charlie started to laugh just as hard, mouth open wide, one arm around her middle. It was contagious.
Alice turned to ask Bix for help, but he was shaking his head, chuckling. “Now you done it,” he said. “Once you start a-laughin’ at a time like th
is, it’s like the church chuckles. You just can’t stop.”
Church chuckles. Bix’s description of the infectious, unstoppable laughter that happened in the pew made Alice laugh even harder. She braced herself against the chair, letting one hand fall on Paul’s knee. She wasn’t even making much sound anymore, just a slight wheezing with each spasm.
Paul bolted upright. “Are you okay?” He gripped Alice’s shoulders and pulled her forward, looking into her face. Tears streamed down her cheeks and she waved a hand, still unable to talk.
“You want some coffee?” Charlie managed to get out some words, most of it lost in giggles.
Paul looked from Charlie, to Bix, to Alice and cocked his head. “You drew something on my face, didn’t you?”
Alice took a second to digest that comment and collapsed against the chair, shaking her head, her smile stretched in a silent rictus of laughter.
“I had a roommate in college that did that every single time I fell asleep.” Paul sounded a little irritated, but mostly amused. “He shaved my eyebrows, wrote words on my forehead with a Sharpie, took pictures of me drooling. I started thinking it would be safer to sleep in the local bus terminal.”
“No… no, we didn’t touch you.” She took several breaths that ended in giggles but the worst was over. “We would never do that. You fell asleep and I was trying to wake you up, and it just struck me as funny how we’re all crowded around you and what a shock it would be when you woke up surrounded by this group.” She looked up and met his eyes. He was grinning now.
“Well, you should have taken your chance while you had it. I’m a deep sleeper. I always have been. I grew up in a house about forty feet from the train tracks. I learned to tune it all out.” He stretched his hands over his head. “Sorry about the impromptu nap, but at least y’all got some entertainment out of it.”
Along the Cane River: Books 1-5 in the Inspirational Cane River Romance Series Page 19
