The Salem Shifters: Complete Series Books 1-3

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The Salem Shifters: Complete Series Books 1-3 Page 4

by Meredith Clarke


  After putting everything in place, I took a step back and looked at my new room. It was pretty boring, but I had a little money that my dad had given me and I hoped I could go downtown and find something cool tomorrow, after my first day at my new job.

  Gran and I ate dinner in the living room, watching one of her soaps. It was boring, but I was tired, so I didn't really mind. She fell asleep shortly after, so I cleaned up. I checked my cell phone a few times but no one had left texts or calls. It didn't surprise me, considering I hadn't really spoken to many of my old friends since Nick's disappearance. I thought the knowledge had spread that I was gone and I was hoping that maybe someone would at least notice. But since no one seemed to care, I went up to bed early feeling lonely.

  5

  The next day I got up early in order to be prepared for my first day at work. I dressed professionally but still in my boho chic style. I didn't want to appear as if I was trying too hard in front of Joy. I could tell that it would make her uncomfortable. I got to the shop around quarter to ten and waited outside while Joy spoke to a tall guy in stellar looking clothes.

  It was a beautiful day and the windows were open so I couldn't help but hear the conversation.

  Joy sounded upset. “No, you cannot just meet her! You know the rules Ultan. Only if you follow them can you stay.”

  Ultan? The adorable Irishman from yesterday? Small town I guess.

  Ultan responded with, “Fine. But ya know as well as I that something needs to be done soon. She's finally here, we need to act.” His voice was smooth and he had that strong Irish accent which made my knees wobble a little bit. But if he was someone that Joy was upset with, it was pretty clear to me that he and I wouldn't be friends. I wasn't going to upset my new boss over some boy, especially on my first day, even if he did make my heart jump.

  Ultan added one more comment before storming out of the shop, “They're coming for her and ya know she belongs with me. I can protect her.” The way he said it made me uncomfortable. A lot of times people refer to paintings as a male or female object but I've never heard someone argue about art the way they just had. I assumed it was a very delicate piece, perhaps part of an estate. Portraits went for a lot of money these days especially ones by famous artists.

  When he stormed out of the store he walked right in front of me. “Paige, hey. Thought I might see ya again.” He had lost his annoyance from his discussion with Joy and seemed glad to see me.

  “Hi. Ultan, I, ummm, I gotta go into work now.” He caught my arm as I tried to walk past.

  “Yer working here? For that crazy lady?”

  “Joy? Yes, I mean no, she’s not crazy.”

  “Seems a bit mental to me.”

  “What’s your point? I really have to be going.”

  “Nothin’, ya look nice.”

  I blushed, “Oh, thanks.” No one really paid me compliments anymore. I hadn’t taken care of myself like I used to. “Anyway, I’ve got to get to work.”

  “Yeah sure, let me get the door for ya.”

  He held it open while I walked through, stepping up onto the light blonde hardwood floor. When I turned around to say thank you, he was gone.

  “Good morning Joy,” I said, attempting to sound cheerful. It may have been the first time I was actually cheerful since Nick had left, and it felt funny coming up my throat.

  Joy turned to me with a broad smile on her face. You would have never known that she was just arguing with Ultan. I decided not to ruin her good mood by bringing it up.

  “Hi Paige. So glad you could make it! Our buyer should be here shortly. You can put your things in the back.”

  Behind the counter was a small door labeled ‘Office’. The room was light and pretty, painted in blues and yellows. Clearly an artist's office, as no one else would be able to pull off the color combination, well except someone who could really appreciate it.

  “I like the colors you chose for your office,” I said as I emerged from the small room. Joy was already chatting away with an older man in a nice suit. I could only assume that he was our new buyer.

  “Paige! Perfect timing. I would like to introduce you to one of our new clients, Mr. Lyner. Mr. Lyner, Paige, my new sales associate will be happy to assist you today.”

  I stepped up and put on my best smile. I had heard that confidence sells an item more than the item can sell itself. I thought it would be best to start with a walk through the entire gallery to pinpoint where he stopped and find where his focus was. Different people like different kinds of art, though he looked more like an Impressionist man to me, it didn't mean that he wouldn't go for a great piece of modern sculpture.

  “Shall we begin over here?” I took my time walking him through the whole gallery, explaining each piece as best as I could. This was slightly difficult with only seeing it once before, but he seemed to appreciate my effort. Finally he stopped in front of a beautiful painting of a purple flower growing on a vine. Impressionist, exactly what I had figured. He stared at the picture for a long time, crossing his arms and putting them behind his back. I could tell he was studying it. That's when I realized he was deciding whether or not it was a good investment. Investment buyers are the hardest to please because they're not looking at the actual artwork, but rather looking at the market trends. They would then decide whether or not a piece could sell for more in five to ten years. Lucky for me, I had taken an entire class on investment buying and I knew I could convince him to take this one home and two others by the same artist.

  I wasn't quite as successful as I had hoped but after a strong conversation discussing selling trends, Mr. Lyner bought two pieces from one artist, both Impressionists. Joy was all smiles as she rung up the sale and was nodding at me, obviously impressed. We set up the shipment plan to send them to his house in New York. He shook my hand before leaving and made a comment about returning. I felt proud of myself watching him walk out the door, knowing that he had just spent a few thousand dollars because of me and the fact that the artist was going to get to eat tonight.

  Joy waited until he was around the corner before turning to me. “Jeez girl! You know how to make a sale. You know what? Those two spots that just opened up? You can have them both. You keep selling like this and we’ll start talking about monthly bonuses.”

  My smile stretched from ear to ear and I thought for the first time in a long time I actually felt something other than disappointment.

  “So, I usually close for lunch. You want to go grab a bite to eat? My treat.” For a moment I felt like Joy was looking for a friend as much as I was and I was hoping that we could fill the void for each other.

  “Umm, yeah, lunch sounds good.”

  “Perfect! I'll go grab our purses. Can you lock the window in the bathroom? It’s just a latch.”

  “Sure, no problem.” I walked to the side of the gallery. When I had arrived I had noticed a restroom sign off to the right. When I said no problem apparently that was a big lie. Because twenty minutes and a soggy shoe later, I emerged from the bathroom, finally successful in my endeavor. However, I was pretty sure that the window beat me into submission.

  Joy laughed as I rung out my ballet slipper on the sidewalk, “How did you do that?”

  “I don't know. I'm usually pretty lucky with things like that, but I guess not this time.” My flat squished under my right foot as we made our way down to the center of town.

  “So, you don't really know what there is to do around here, do you?” she asked me.

  “No, not really,” I admitted.

  “All right then, I'll give you the tour. Down here is your average post office and the courthouse. On your left is one of the only real clothing shops in town and on your right is the best coffee shop. On nights when we work late I'll expect you to run down there and pick some stuff up for us. I hope that's alright?”

  “Fine with me, I love a good hot chocolate while working.”

  Joy stopped and looked at me. “Me too! Everybody thinks I'm weird, but I r
eally like a hot drink while I'm painting.”

  I laughed, “It makes you feel like that perfect winter day. And I can really get into the painting, just stay there for hours.”

  “Exactly!” She beamed, delighted we had something in common. She chattered on about different places in Salem and, although I was paying attention, I wasn’t absorbing any of it. Directions had never been my thing. It was nice listening to her though. I'd forgotten how much fun it was to talk and hang out with someone my own age.

  Julia and I had been friends for a long time before I got involved with Nick. I’ll admit that I had kind of ditched her when I met him. I didn’t mean to be one of those girls but for a long time he was my total world. Julia and I had grown up together, meeting in the third grade made you best friends by obligation. It was nice to have someone to hang out with but she was much more into sports and competition than I had ever been. After Nick disappeared, she came to visit me once, but it was still during my dark time. I wasn't taking care of myself and I had stopped going to classes. I think the whole situation freaked her out. Also, I slightly remember being terribly mean to her when she showed up. For a long time anger overtook my life, but now I was ready for a fresh start and new friends. Joy’s bubbly qualities and cheerfulness helped me to focus on the positives in my life.

  We had lunch at the only Thai place in town, but Joy assured me it was legitimate and she was right. The food was fantastic and the prices were really good too. Even though I didn't have to pay, I had always been the frugal type. I would much rather eat a peanut butter and jelly sandwich at home then go out to a fancy restaurant. It was one of the things that Nick liked about me. I was always a bit of a cheap date. But I liked to do romantic things, too. I just realized early on that those romantic moments didn't have to cost a lot of money.

  After we talked about our families and school and why I had moved to Salem, Joy asked the question I had been dreading, “So, are you seeing anyone?”

  I almost choked on my Chicken Pad Thai. I took a long sip of soda before coming up with a response, “Not right now and you?” I thought if I removed the focus of the conversation from myself, it would make me more comfortable.

  She giggled a little. “Well, there is this guy, Dave. He owns an ice cream shop in town. I know it doesn't sound like much but he's really nice. He's been asking me out for a while, and I might take him up on it.”

  I could see from the look on her face that she was totally into him. She wasn’t just considering his proposition. She had already made up her mind. Immediately I wanted to meet him and see if he was good enough for her, but then I realized that we were new friends and my opinion didn't really matter. “At least you’ll get all the free ice cream you want,” I offered.

  She laughed and summoned the waiter, asking for the check. “It's time for me to get back, the job of an entrepreneur is never done. You, however, are free to explore the town!”

  “Really? I mean I was only there for a few hours.”

  “Paige, you walked Mr. Lyner around for almost five hours. This is the latest lunch I've ever had. I close for the day at five, we only stay open in the evenings on Fridays and Saturdays. So how about tomorrow, around the same time? And don't forget to bring your artwork. I can't wait to see the pieces you’re going to put up on the wall.”

  She left a wad of cash on the table and walked away. As she left, I felt like the whole restaurant was mesmerized by her beauty and charm, watching her flounce away.

  6

  The next couple of weeks went by quickly. My days were filled with a new routine, one that was full of unexpected twists and turns at my new job. I learned a lot from Joy in the first week. She showed me how to deal with impatient customers and how to deal with angry artists. Sometimes, when the paint stopped flowing from their brushes, they started to lose their minds a little bit, I had seen it before. But I'd never seen someone deal with them as professionally as Joy did. She really did know what she was doing in this business. She drove a nice car and had nice things, but I never heard her talk about her family and she hadn't mentioned Dave since that first day at the Thai place. It was clear she was very involved in her career. She commented on my fish painting and helped me to attempt to sell it, but so far there hadn’t been any offers. I was okay with that though, at least it was up on someone's wall. It made me finally feel like a legitimate artist, something I had been trying to accomplish for the past two years. It seemed as though Salem was the perfect escape I had been looking for.

  Joy and my friendship was advancing nicely too. Twice she had left me alone in the gallery while she went to the bank or post office. It was never for long but while I was alone I took a few moments to enjoy the pieces on display. It was refreshing to like my job so much and to be given the opportunity to focus on my own art, though I hadn’t really had time to start painting yet again. Sometimes when she was gone and it was quiet I would stare at a painting until I felt a chill go down my spine. It felt like I was being watched. I would shake it off and get back to work, realizing the silence probably put the thoughts in my head.

  At night I would go home and have dinner with Gran and we'd either watch TV or play a card game out on the Veranda. It was nice to have someone to spend time with and Gran never pushed too hard. She would offer me a book and a glass of iced tea and leave me early enough that I still had time to mess around on the Internet or text the parents. I didn’t talk to them all that much, not wanting to overwhelm them and also wanting my space. Joy had invited me out a few times to do different things and our friendship was growing, so I wasn't surprised when she started walking me home from work. She claimed it was good physical activity for her since she sat most of the day, but I knew it was for both of us. It gave us time to talk about girl stuff away from work and it was fun. I appreciated the company as well. Ever since arriving in Salem I couldn’t shake the feeling that someone had been watching me so walking home alone worried me a little.

  Joy and I were walking home after closing the gallery one Friday night when we stopped to get some ice cream at the local Tastee Freeze.

  “What flavor do you want?” Joy looked at me inquisitively while she laid her hand on the extended counter, “I got this tonight.”

  “Umm, how about some of that blue raspberry? Is it any good?” I faked my attention as I scanned the crowd. Again I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up as though someone was keeping tabs on me.

  The guy behind the counter leaned forward. He had shaggy brown hair and dark green eyes. I could tell he was built as his white Tastee Freeze T-shirt hugged his chest. “Yeah, it’s okay, but if you’re into fruity, I’d try the mango instead.”

  Joy smiled, “You should listen to Dave. He’s been working here a long time, he knows all the flavors.” Ah, so this was the infamous Dave. She looked back at him and flirtatiously tossed her long blonde hair over her shoulder. Her sun-kissed skin glowed in the evening light. There was no competition if you were standing anywhere near her. She had all the boys looking at her. I didn’t mind though. I wasn’t ready to get back into the dating scene just yet.

  “All right, I’ll try it. Mango was going to be my second choice anyway.”

  “Perfect! And I’ll have a small cone with chocolate sprinkles please.” She winked at Dave for good measure, or maybe for extra sprinkles. Joy looked back at me and said, “They have the best ice cream here, no other place in town has this many flavors.”

  “Sure Joy, they also don’t have Dave scooping it out, do they?” I raised an eyebrow at her and she laughed. “I’ll make a mental note of that. I’m always looking for a good ice cream shop. I think Gran would like a milkshake from time to time.”

  “You should so get her one right now,” Joy said. “Hey Dave, add a small vanilla milkshake to the order too! Thanks hon!”

  I saw him nod from the back of the parlor. It looked like he was deep in thought while extracting my yellow-orange mango ice cream.

  “You didn’t have to do t
hat,” I said, even though I knew she really wanted to. Everyone loved Gran, I felt like the whole town was rallying behind her ever since I had arrived. It was like they wanted her to be able to stay in the house.

  “Are you kidding? It’s the least I can do for her since I monopolize all of her granddaughter’s evenings. I mean really, when was the last time you saw her for an extended period of time?”

  I hadn’t really thought about it, but hearing Joy say it, it really had been a few days since I’d spent some quality time with Gran. “A couple of days I guess.”

  “Well then, tell her the milkshake’s from you because when you see her tonight she is going to be annoyed.” She laughed at her own comment.

  I squinted at her, “What do you mean?”

  She continued to giggle. It was a light airy sound. “I used to live with my aunt for a little while and even though they say to go out on your own and do your own thing, they actually mean they want you home for dinner every night by five. So just give her the milkshake and I’m sure that all will be well.”

  She paid for the ice cream and we started to walk down the cobblestone street back to Gran’s house. The large oak trees that lined the road cast looming shadows over what seemed to be our small figures. Joy continued to chatter about Dave, the gallery, and some of the houses that we went by.

  “See that yellow one over there?” I could only nod since my mouth was full of creamy goodness. “They say it’s haunted. I mean they say that about a lot of the houses here, but that one in particular… something weird is going on in there. In the nineteen-forties, when the guys came back from World War II, apparently this soldier went totally crazy. He killed his wife and his young son and then pulled the trigger on himself. It’s one of the darkest stories in Salem’s past. Nobody even does the ghost tours in front of that house, if that tells you how scared even the ghost hunters are.”

 

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