I went upstairs to find a shirt long enough to cover my hand. While I searched my clothes, I contemplated the store. With so many dead and with people still dying, how did Jackson and Stephanie expect me to have a successful business?
I didn’t have another customer the rest of the day. At the end of my first shift, I counted down my drawer, deposited the tiny bit of money I’d made into the safe, and met Anne outside the building. She invited me to dinner, and I felt that turning her down wouldn’t be a good idea so early in my stay. I could accept such invitations for the first few weeks. Gradually I would start making excuses to eat at home.
With what little money the store was making—Anne had done better than me, but not by much considering the books on her side were barely half the price of mine—there was no way I could afford to eat out every day. Since I hardly had any food in my fridge, I would have to eat out until the weekend when I could do some real shopping.
We went to The Grove, the same little restaurant Stephanie and Scott had taken me to the night before. I ordered water and a house salad, telling Anne that I wasn’t that hungry. When our food came, though, the waiter brought me a large grilled chicken salad, a buttered sweet potato, and a glass of wine.
“Excuse me,” I said, catching the man before he could leave.
“Yes?” he said.
“I think you gave me someone else’s order.”
“No, Ma’am.”
“I only ordered a house salad and a glass of water. This food is too much.”
“No, Ma’am. Mr. Nichols said that you would prefer that instead.”
Yes, I would, but I couldn’t say that. I also couldn’t say that I was on a limited budget, and whereas I could afford the meal right then, in a few months, I probably couldn’t and needed to save money, so all I said was, “But…but…” and looked helplessly from the waiter to the plate.
The man leaned in close to me and said, “Mr. Nichols also said that the payment for the meal was on him.”
“All right. Thank you,” I said to the man, knowing it was useless to protest. He nodded and walked away. I scanned the restaurant for Mr. Nichols but didn’t see him.
“Is Mr. Nichols always this way?” I asked Anne as I prepped my food.
“Pretty much. What you’re doing for us is a good thing. Mr. Nichols may not show it, but he wants you to be happy. He wants you to acclimate to our world as easily as possible. He also intends to set a good example for the other alphas and his people. The best way for everyone to feel at ease with you here is for him to show them how to treat you.”
“But won’t people get angry at him for taking care of me this way? I can’t prove that I’m worthy of this place if I can’t take care of myself.”
“He’s the Archon here, and the alpha of the local shifter pack. While you’re in Greenleaf, he’s your alpha. It’s his job to take care of you, and it’s your job to be appreciative of the things he does.”
“Okay. I’m sorry. I’m just not used to having someone take care of me like this.”
“You’re going to be some alpha’s mate soon. You’ll need to learn to get used to it.”
After we had eaten, I said goodbye to Anne, then searched the restaurant for Jackson again. I found him in a back corner, reading one of the books he had bought from me earlier that day—the one that wasn’t the romance, thank God. I pulled my shirt sleeve down over my hand and approached him. That time, he saw my approach and sat his book down. He still didn’t speak to me, but he did nod his head at me. I wasn’t sure if the nod was a greeting or an invitation to speak, so I took it as both.
“Good afternoon, Ja…I mean, Mr. Nichols. I just wanted to come over and say thank you for the food. Today was a slow day, but I do hope business will pick up and that I make your investment in me worth it.”
He only blinked at me, so I nodded my head at him and left.
18.
~~~Valerie~~~
After dinner that night, I walked back to the bookstore alone, as Anne had said she needed to run an errand before going home. I should have felt scared walking alone in an unknown town, hell, in an unknown world. I was too caught up in my thoughts of the mark on my hand and the indifference Jackson showed toward me to notice if anyone was watching me or was about to attack me. I didn’t truly think the latter was a possibility.
I hadn’t thought to look at Jackson’s hand back at the restaurant to see if he had the mark. I racked my brain trying to remember if he had on gloves or if I could recall him purposely keeping his hand hidden from me. Nothing of the sort came to mind. Instead, I just kept picturing his emotionless stare, his stiff posture, his silence.
Maybe he didn’t have the mark. His behavior was the same as it was earlier that morning—cold and indifferent, not like someone who’d just met their soul mate. Maybe I had touched someone else, or they had touched me, and I hadn’t noticed. My heart broke a little at the thought that Jackson might not be my mate, which was odd considering I didn’t know the man…had never had a two-sided conversation with him.
I couldn’t remember anyone other than him touching my palm. I’d only talked to a few people since I’d been in Greenleaf, and I’d only tentatively touched one or two of them. The mark had to have come from his touching me, but I didn’t see any signs of him having one on his palm.
What kind of sign I was expecting to see, I didn’t know. If I was Jackson’s mate, shouldn’t he be claiming me in some way? How did a person from Valeterra claim their mate? Another thing I didn’t know. Stephanie might, but she said it would be a few days before she came to check on me. I couldn’t ask Azure, she was too young, even if she did seem to know a good bit about the mark.
My thoughts ran on and on that way while I walked. More than once, I wished Gail was with me. I could really use someone to talk to about everything I was going through. We sent the random text throughout the day to each other, but I had to keep those conversations vague and generic.
At the store, I grabbed a random paperback off a shelf before climbing the stairs to my apartment. After locking the door behind me, I went to the front window to peek out at the apartment across from me. The curtains were closed, and the building was dark.
Sighing, I took a shower, changed into something comfortable I could wear out onto the balcony, grabbed my book, and went outside to read. To my surprise, a light came on in the apartment the second I opened the glass door. The rapid pace of my heart at the anticipation of talking to my neighbor also surprised me. My surprise immediately turned to shame. I wore another man’s mating mark on my hand. I shouldn’t feel excited about talking to a man I couldn’t have considering that I belonged to someone else.
I didn’t know Mr. Nichols very well, but he seemed to be a good man, stoic, but good and very attractive. I felt drawn to him. Knew I could probably love him one day, but I’d spoken to the stranger across the road. He too seemed kind, energetic, intelligent, and he came out onto his balcony as my mind raced with contradicting thoughts.
“Hello there,” he said, holding up a wine glass in salutations. “I was hoping you would be out here tonight.”
“Hello,” I said a bit hoarsely. I cleared my throat and tried again. “Your night air is perfect. I love that the sky is bright enough that I can read by the starlight,” I said, looking up at the evening sky and basking in how wonderfully clear and vivid it looked. I was also thankful for the lack of streetlights that would have marred the view.
“It is beautiful,” he said. I looked back at him and smiled, but noticed that he hadn’t been looking up at the sky when he spoke, but at me. For a brief second, I let myself believe that he had been talking about me before letting the thought go. He had seen his sky all of his life. He knew how amazing it was.
“How was your day?” he asked, leaning against the solid railing.
I chuckled a little before saying, “It was a day.”
“Bad day?”
“No. Boring for the most part. I only had two customers
. Mr. Nichols came in to check me out and bought a few books out of courtesy.”
“I don’t know about that last part. I’m sure he came in to get a look at you and the business, but I’ve heard he is an avid reader.”
“Really?”
“Yep.”
“Huh, well, I hope he enjoys the ones he purchased.”
My face flushed at the images I’d conjured of him reading the romance novel and getting turned on from it.
“Do you know him well?” I asked to clear my thoughts.
“As well as most people around here do, I guess.”
“Is he always so… I don’t know… Standoffish?”
“Some say so, yeah. Has Mr. Nichols insulted you in any way?”
“No… I… I don’t think he likes me being here,” I said and started rubbing my palm.
“Why do you say that?”
“He hasn’t spoken to me once.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“It’s true. I’ve seen Mr. Nichols outside the store a few times and inside it once, and not one word has he spoken to me. I know I’m not… I can be a bit… Oh, never mind. Enough about him,” I said, giving my hand one last look before curling my fingers into a fist to hide the mark. “I had one other customer today—a sweet girl by the name of Azure. She bought a few books and talked to me for a long time. She asked if she could do her homework and read at the store after school. I told her I would love that as long as no one minds. Do you think anyone will?” I asked in a rush to keep him from changing the subject back to Jackson.
“I don’t think anyone will. The orphanage has to care for a lot of kids. Having one less to worry about would probably be a relief. I know that sounds cruel, but there are so few of us adults with so little time to give those children the attention they need.”
I stared at him for a long time, thinking through an idea.
“What’s on your mind?” he asked, breaking into my thoughts.
“I thought that maybe I could tell Azure to let the other kids know that they were welcome to come if they wanted. I know kids don’t consider a bookstore a cool place to hang out, and I can’t promise I’ll be able to help them all with their homework—I suck at math and biology—but I can be of some assistance. I can rearrange some things in the store and maybe see about getting a few more tables and chairs. The kids could use the place like a library as well. If they have assignments centered on my world, that is. It will keep them off the streets—Oh. I’m not saying you have a high crime rate or anything. As far as I can tell, you don’t have a crime rate at all.”
I was pacing the balcony at that point and spouting out all the ideas that came into my head, growing more and more excited by the thought as I went.
After a while, he chuckled at me and caused me to stop pacing. “You think it’s a bad idea,” I said crestfallen.
“That isn’t it at all. I think it’s a very good idea. I was just laughing at how enthusiastic you are about it. One thing I don’t recommend is food. You were talking about offering snacks somewhere in all that rambling, but I’m not sure you want a bunch of teenagers eating and spilling things in your store. Bottled water is one thing, but nothing sticky or that will make a mess or stain.”
“Right. I didn’t think about that. You swear you think it’s a good idea?”
“I do. My other bit of advice is to make sure kids that don’t live at the orphanage know they can come also.”
“Will do. Thank you for listening to me. I know I can be a bit much when I get excited about an idea, and I apologize.”
“Don’t. I like how enthusiastic you are about the store and how much you want to be a part of our community. I like listening to you ramble that way. It’s cute.”
I prayed his supernatural abilities didn’t allow him to see how much he made me blush at those words. When I realized that we had locked gazes even though I couldn’t see much of him from where he stood, I forced myself to look away and down at my palm. At the sight of the mating mark, I grew ashamed all over again. I was accepting and liking compliments from another man. Not something I would consider wrong in my world, but something that the people might frown upon in Valeterra.
“Thank you. I should get to bed. Goodnight,” I finally said, picking up the unread book and going back to my apartment.
19.
~~~~Valerie~~~
The next morning went about the same as the morning before. I walked to the deli for breakfast. I ordered a spinach, mushroom, and cheese omelet, a blueberry muffin, and a large glass of milk, all the while making sure to keep my marked hand hidden since I hadn’t had another shirt long enough to cover the symbol. That time I ordered my food to-go, and again the young lady behind the counter told me that Mr. Nichols was paying for my meal. I smiled and took my bag of food from the clerk without arguing. I nodded to Jackson, who was sitting in his apparent customary spot, in gratitude before hurrying from the store.
The look he gave me as I passed him almost seemed questioning as if maybe he was surprised that I didn’t stop by his table. I wasn’t putting myself out there anymore when he’d seemed annoyed by my presence each of the previous times and since he had refused to speak to me. Besides, I didn’t have anything to say to him that morning. I didn’t want to discover that he had a mark on his hand but wasn’t acknowledging it or me. I also didn’t want him to see the mark on my hand and start asking questions, especially if he wasn’t the one who had marked me. I also didn’t want him to force me into a relationship with anyone until I was ready.
Two doors down from the restaurant was a dress shop that I wanted to stop in to get some fingerless gloves, which was the second biggest reason I had left the restaurant so quickly. In the store, I went straight for the rack of gloves and picked out two white laced ones, two black laced ones, and two ivory laced ones—each was slightly different in design and length. Holding my food bag with my right hand, I laid the gloves on the counter and reached for my wallet. The gloves were way out of my budget, but I couldn’t have people seeing the mark until I was ready.
The middle-aged woman behind the counter scanned the items, bagged them, and handed the bag to me. She was polite and smiled but said very little.
“How much do I owe you?” I asked when she didn’t give me a total.
“Mr. Nic…”
“Mr. Nichols is paying for them, isn’t he?” I asked, cutting off her words. I only felt a tiny bit bad about doing so.
“Yes, Ma’am.”
Great, that means he’ll know what I bought, and if he has the mark, why I bought them. Oh well, once he knows about my mark, and if he has one also, and he gets mad that I’m hiding mine, then he can come clean about his or suck it up.
“If you speak to him,” I finally said, “tell him that I said thank you. Thank you as well. I hope you have a nice day.”
I left the store in a hurry. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to be there, but I wanted to get back to my store quickly so that I could eat and put on the gloves before anyone came in…if anyone came in, that was.
Anne stuck her head into my side of the store a few minutes before I opened to say hello and to say that she was sorry for missing me at breakfast that morning. I apologized in return, telling her that I saw something in a store window on my way home last night that I wanted to purchase before I opened that morning, so I had gotten my food to-go. Before she could ask what I’d bought, I held up my hands to show her my gloves.
She smiled and said they were cute, but I could tell she was a bit confused as to why I had bought them.
“My hands get cold easily. I forgot to pack a lot of my winter clothing, and when I saw these, I just had to have them,” I said, trying to sound convincing.
“They’re cute,” she said again, hesitantly, noticing that the gloves were a little too frilly for the outfit I wore—a cream-colored peasant top and dark brown, wide-leg pants.
“Thank you. Do you want to get lunch around one-thirty?” I asked to chan
ge the topic.
“Sure. Good luck today.”
“Thanks. You, too.”
Once she was gone, I hung my head with a sigh. She’d figure it out soon if she didn’t chalk my weird fashion sense up to my being human.
20.
~~~Valerie~~~
I spent the morning wandering around the store, dusting, rearranging a few things, and worrying about my lack of business. For a half a second around ten-thirty, I thought I’d have a customer, but the lady took one look at me, said, “Oh,” and backpeddled out the door. A minute later, I heard Anne’s door open.
By the time one-thirty rolled around, I was too depressed and embarrassed to leave the store for lunch, so Anne brought me a turkey sandwich, some celery and carrots with vegetable dip, and a white chocolate chip cookie.
“Mr. Nichols asked about you,” she said, joining me at my table in the store. She told me apologetically that she had eaten her sandwich at the restaurant because her aunt had been there and wanted to visit with her. While I ate, she left the door between our buildings open so that she could hear if anyone came into her side. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I could hear her bell clearly from my side.
“He did?” I asked, not believing her.
“Yeah. Mr. Nichols wanted to know where you were and if you’d eaten lunch. I told him you were still at the store and that I was bringing you lunch. He asked if you were here with a customer, and I said no. I should have said yes. He didn’t look pleased that you didn’t have a reason for not leaving the store.”
“I bet not. Every day that goes by with little to no sales, he’s probably losing money. I should go home. Or at the very least, let someone take over here. If I see him tonight at the restaurant, I’ll tell him that. Maybe I can get a job doing something else to help pay my way while I’m here.”
Marked (Valeterra Series Book 1) Page 8
