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Authors: Tonya Kappes

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BOOK: Carpe Bead'em
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“Yes.” He replied with heavy irony.

“Huh. Maybe it’s still there.” I’m not
about to confess how I take it out, on occasion, rub my hands over it, and
analyze every curve, dot, cross and line. “Dinner. Dinner is good.”

I play with Henry while Bo gets ready
for his meeting with a new beer company. Well actually it’s Cincinnati’s own
Hudepohl-Schoenling Brewing Company. They brought back Burger Beer after
hiatus. He’s going to meet with the execs, to strike a deal to sell it in his
bar.

The smells of Gucci men’s cologne floats
down the stairs and into the family room. I know that scent anywhere. I have to
wonder if Piper gave it to me.

Regroup, regroup I remind myself.

“Hey, where’d you get the fu-fu juice?”
I want to see if he’ll tell me the truth.

“That Piper chick you work with.” He
jogs down the steps.“You should recognize it.”

I want to run upstair, grab the
eighty-dollar cologne, and slam it up against the wall. I’ve never wanted to
hurt anything Gucci, but today I want to kill that bottle.

“Yes, I thought I recognize the smell.”
I turn around so he can’t see the disappointment in my face, and pick Henry up.

“I’m outta here.” He flashes his
signature smile and flips his hair to the side. “Wish me luck”

Henry jumps out of my arms, and runs to
Bo. His tail wagging. I’m sure if someone takes a picture of me running behind
Bo, I’d look exactly like Henry.

As soon as his rental car turn the
corner, I run as fast as I can up to Lucy’s room and rummage through his bag.
Surely there’s something from Piper in there. She knows I’ll be with him, and
she knows I’ll go through his bag.

If I were her, I would’ve slipped a pair
of naughty undies or a sleazy note in his bag. Then again, if I were her, I
wouldn’t have let him go in the first place. Unless he didn’t tell her was
going. Or  staying with me.

Nothing. I dig a little deeper to make
sure there’s no hidden compartment. I find his Sunday running shirt and lift it
up to the light.

“Oh, how I’ve missed you.”  I bury my
face in the shirt and take a deep breath.

Ah. His smell. That’s something you
can’t bottle, and I love it.

I look around to
make sure no one is looking, not even Henry. I slip it over my head and trot to
my bedroom with shirt flying in the wind. If he doesn’t miss his Wednesday
shirt, he isn’t going to miss his Sunday shirt.

 

Chapter Twenty-Six

 

 

With the shirt tucked neatly in my
drawer, I walk back down to One Bead at a Time. I had a few of the bracelets I
made throughout the week to drop off, plus a few business cards.

The afternoon class is full of teenage
girls. Their laughter fills the space. Dee’s twinkle in her eye says it all.

“Look what your bracelets dragged in,”
She says.

The teenager who gave me a few new ideas
earlier that morning, is in the huddle of girls. She whispers a couple things
in the ear of the twiggy teen next to her and waves.

I wave back. I find her endearing, even
though she drives Dee crazy.

“Hallie, I brought my friends in to make
a bracelet.” All the girls look up and wave with smiles on all their faces. She
plays with the Beadnicks bracelet on her wrist. “They love what we put together.
Do you want to help us?”

“Sure.” I go over and see what they’ve
started on, and gather a few other beads I think will accent what they already
have.

Dee takes my latest bracelets and
Beadnicks cards. She inspects them and hangs them on the display. “Nice
designs.”

A few of the girls start looking through
them, and by the end of the hour, all my bracelets are gone again.

“Maybe I do like teenagers.” Dee smiles
over her coffee cup.

Each girl puts all sorts of wacky
designs together.

“You better like them. They’ve made us
some money today.” I glance at the gaggle of gals oohing and ahhing over each
other’s bracelets. “I need more supplies.”

“You’re going to wipe me out.” She says,
and drop beading catalogs on the counter.

My eyes are going to pop out of their
sockets with their own excitement as they graze over what graces each page.

“I know. I know. Those catalogs are
precious to me, but it’s time you start to order your own things. We’ll keep a
spreadsheet of all the bracelets you sell, all the items you order, and we’ll
settle up every two weeks. Sound good?”

I concur without speaking a word. I’m
not about to ruin this moment.

“Now tell me about Bo.” Dee is settles
up with the teenagers.

Briefly, I tell her about the situation
with Bo, all the way to the shirt.

“You’re full of it.” She can’t believe I
took the shirt.

“Listen, I’ve been running behind him
for a good part of two years solid and I miss his smell. Besides, it’s a smelly
t-shirt he won’t miss.” I grab up the catalogs.

Speaking of Bo, I’ve got to go get ready
for dinner.”

“Dinner? Where?” She leans over the
counter with peaking curiosity.

Obviously Bo will enjoy a blues bar.
Immediately, the Southgate House, just over the river in Kentucky, pops into my
mind. It’s not too far, and a fun experience.

It’s a cool mansion built in the 1800s
with loads of history. The remodeled historical landmark is a great music venue
for national and local bands—perfect for Bo’s interests and for a first visit
to Cincy.

The Ballroom is a cool two-story,
horseshoe balcony with a full bar that’s used for larger bands. I think it’d be
great for him to hear our local blues band, The Mean Street Band.

They happen to be playing in the Parlour
Room of the Southgate House. The Parlour Room has the best seat in the house.
It’s an intimate venue for local bands to get up close and personal with their
fans. And intimate enough for Bo and I to accidently rub up against one
another.

“Hallie, look.” Dee dangles spectacular
grey hematite beads in the air.

“Can I have them?” I beg, snatching them
like a thief. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking? I can make something really
cool for tonight. Elegant, even.”

It doesn’t take long to make a hematite
necklace with a few bali accents and a matching bracelet. I have the perfect
black silk halter top from Bebe to go with it. It’s a crinkled chiffon, v-neck
with a smock hem gathering at the waist. The gray and silver will look stunning
against my black skinny jeans, four-inch black Manolo Blahniks with my long
Italian silk black hair hanging down making a dramatic effect.

 

“Gorgeous.” Bo seemed to be peering at
me intently.

“He is pretty special.” I eye Henry
bouncing off Bo’s thighs.

I hand him a Maker’s and Coke, and make
myself a strong Cosmo.

“No, I mean you this time.” His eyes
catch mine. “You look amazing. Really, I don’t think we’ve ever had time
together where we can just talk and get to know each other.”

Taking his drink, a shock travel through
my fingertips and straight to my heart. Our eyes hold for a second, though it
seems like an eternity.

“I ….” I step back.

“Did I catch you off guard?” He takes my
hand with his free hand.

“Sushi?” I blurt out. “Do you like
sushi? I hope you don’t mind, I made us a reservation at a great sushi bar on
the river.”

I’m about to screw up the situation I’ve
been dreaming about for the past two years. Only the idea of him in a
relationship is changing everything.

“What about Piper?” I take a gulp of my
drink.

His brows furrow. “What about her?” He
fidgets with the ice in his drink.

I have to recapture my hold on him.

“She likes sushi, doesn’t she?” I play
off my stupid comment.

“Don’t know.” A
crocked smile crosses his lips. “I like sushi.”

 

Chapter Twenty-Seven

 

 

Diner is excellent. He orders the
Japanese sampler entrée featuring sashimi, tempura with stewed vegetables along
with a few other fascinating complements. I order the sushi combination. I
enjoy feeding Bo more than I enjoy my food. We laugh about our running
experiences and how far I’ve come.

“At least I don’t hold my side anymore.”
I laugh, remembering all the times I had to stop to take a breath.

“Hallie, I really want to talk to you
about the note I left you.” Why’s he so damn bent on talking about the note? I
let Piper decide my fate for three months. I refuse to let her ruin my night.

“We have all night to be serious. Why
waste this awesome atmosphere?” I toss my hair over my shoulder and sip through
my stir stick. I pray I look more sexy, than a fish out of water.

After dinner, we drive to the Southgate
House to listen to The Mean Street Band.

I am spot-on. Bo loves it.

He enjoys the atmosphere as much as the
band. I watch Bo stare at the band with a glossy look in his eyes. He reminds
me of a kid in a candy shop when he turns to me and grins.

“Thank you, Hallie.” His arms around my
waist the way I’ve always dreamed. The heat from his lips enter my ear, making
my hair stand up on my arms, and tickle my toes. “This has been the most
relaxing and enjoyable evening I’ve had in a long time.”

“You haven’t been hanging with the right
people until now,” I whisper back, trying to do my best Marilyn Monroe.

I look up to find myself getting lost in
his eyes. His arms encircled me, one hand in the small of my back. His lips met
mine, and the kiss sings through my veins.

“Did I tell you, thank you?” He smiles,
slightly pulling away.

“I think you just did.” I smile back.

It is hard for me not to stare and every
time I do, he looks over to catch me admiring his awesomeness. I try to watch
his line of vision and see what he is focusing on. I follow his eyes over to
the bar.

“Let’s walk over here for a second.” He
reaches for my hand and leads me through the Parlor to the bar, where the lead
singer of the band is savoring a drink. “Nice work up there, man.”

The singer holds his glass up in the air
as a sign of thanks.

By the end of the conversation, Bo works
his magic and books The Mean Street Band for a gig in Chicago.

“This is awesome, Hallie. Chicago is
going to love them.” On the drive home, Bo talks about the band when I want him
to talk about our future. “I hope you can drive up and watch.”

“When are they coming?” I keep my eyes
on the road because his kiss is already tattooed on my brain.

“Three weeks.” He slightly turns towards
me and touches my leg. A warming sensation vibrates throughout my body. “You
can come home for a weekend, right?”

Home.
Home never sounds so sweat to my
ears.

“Sure, if you want me to come.” I’m
fishing for an invitation.

“You found them for me, and I’d be
honored if you’d come.” He leans over and kisses my cheek. We might have
traveled in silence the rest of the way home, but my mind is racing.

I’ll plan a weekend go home and include
a girls’ night in. That’ll mark my second month away, and we can celebrate the
fact that the next time they’ll see me, I’ll be a Chicagonite again!

 

Chapter
Twenty-Eight

 

 

Like a gentleman, Bo holds the front
door for me, and catches my arm on the way in.

“Hallie.” He speaks my name in a way
that tells me that he wants more from me than conversation.

I turn to face him. My breath quickens
when I notice how handsome his face looks in the shadow of the moonlight.

Gently he pulls me closer, his lips
recapture mine, more demanding this time.

We linger with our lips lightly
touching, barely skimming. Hesitating only for a moment as our lips part,
finding the slight tips of our tongues. My tummy begins to tingle with
anticipation, leaving me wanting more when he pulls away.

“I’m sorry.” He looks down at his feet.
His smile glistens in the natural moonlight. “I should’ve asked to kiss you.”

“Don’t apologize. I enjoy it.” I put my
fingers to my mouth longing for his lips, “I won’t object to another one.”

Our eyes connect. I wrap my arms around
his neck.

“Mmm,” I moan, and continue to caress my
tongue along his lips as he picks me up and slams the door with his foot. He
carries me up the steps and lays me on the bed.

This is it! I just know it.
It’s finally
our time.

His hands cup my face, keeping it
steady. His lips start at my eyebrows, eyelids moving onto my ear and neck. But
I stop him.

“Let me go freshen up.” I want to put on
that sexy negligee I’ve stashed in the bathroom just in case of this very moment.

BOOK: Carpe Bead'em
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