Love Came Back (a Pyro-Princess Design and Style novel Book 1) (7 page)

BOOK: Love Came Back (a Pyro-Princess Design and Style novel Book 1)
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Yes. There it is.

My eyes opened to a brand new day.

11

Finally Living the Dream

 

 

 

 

Five years later

 

..::
Siddaleigh
::..

 

The purpose of life, after all, is to live it, to experience to the utmost, to reach out eagerly and without fear for newer and richer experiences.

Well, no offense to Eleanor Roosevelt, but this girl has not had a new or rich experience in let’s say FOREVER!

I walked out of my weekly yoga class feeling energized but emotionally off. Our instructor gave us the quote to think about over the week and that one made me feel funny. Usually yoga would balance me, but I just figured today was just one of those “Monday” feeling kind of days. Since it was Monday that made it even more-blah. A kind of day that trouble usually followed in its wake. I could just feel it.

Being me, trouble is closer than chalk on a sidewalk.

Walking to my ’05 black, shiny Ford Mustang, I opened my gym bag to seize for my car keys. Growling for not getting them out ahead of time, I started muttering a curse.

“Always at the bottom, aren’t they?"

Finally getting into the car, I was seriously relieved when I turned the ignition and the A/C was like a cool breeze wafting across my face. I drove towards the Houston Outlet Mall, to my very own shop, Pyro-Princess Design and Style. Which was approaching its first anniversary in a few short months. So far, to my peace of mind, the shop was making great profit and the sales seemed to be showing a good steady increase. Thinking back, I knew I had accomplished quite a lot for my age of twenty-five. I was eternally grateful from the support of my family and closest friend, Mags, who went in on the store with me as a silent partner, to sell her own design of shoes, purses, and belts. Between Mags and me, it was a perfect set-up.

The last seven years working towards a Fashion Design degree has kept me more than occupied. Even those two short years of misery with Mikhail, didn’t deter me from plowing straight through those classes. Luckily I had been able to retake those classes and I doubled up on classes during the next few years.

I took night classes for Fashion Design and late afternoon courses for a small business degree, plus working full-time as the third shift, which was overnight, assistant manager at the nearby twenty-four grocery store. I almost couldn’t believe I had got done what I set out to do.

Mags insisted I move back in, and she said since she had money, I didn’t need to pay for anything. I tried refusing but then she said, ‘my dad pays for the apartment, so get over it.’ She also bartended her way through college, so she made a killing when I barely scraped by. Suckie for me, but she had no problem with me being a mooch so I could save money. She knew I was determined after everything I’d been through.

That helped loads for my ability to save the amount I needed to open a retail store in the Outlet mall. Plus, the shipping costs from the warehouse I ended up having to have for my designs to be made and it was almost bank breaking. I did it though, with my conviction and passion for clothing I wanted to prove myself totally independent. I was driven to succeed. I would have loved to have built my own boutique, but I only had enough to rent out a retail space at the mall. Yet, hoping one day, after a few years, I would have enough to achieve that dream. I am thankfully still young enough, to not worry about that just yet.

Nor did I worry about dating. That was a problem I so did not want to deal with anytime soon. I needed to be myself and that meant freedom and independence. One man ruined me for a future happily ever after. Mikhail Donald Thompson; person personified as disaster, pain, catastrophe, plus a heavy dose of utter total misery. That was all that was associated with that louse. I seriously learned my lesson, the tough, brutal way.

Owning my own business was a major step in owning my own independence as a woman. Knowing that I was doing exactly what I wanted with so much conviction made me feel happy and free. It’s been eight years saving money, with almost two of those years hiding behind Mikhail’s back, that I was finally able to open my store last year. Now I had by three employees, and a section where my best friend Mags put her own retail of shoes, belts and purses.

I had no time for a lover or a husband crowding my way. Not that I’m planning on getting married anytime soon or getting close or intimate with anyone. I figured I just wasn’t made for marriage and would rather be alone. I am not going down that road of romantic-mayhem again. Besides, if I wanted pleasure so damn bad, I can do it with my own Rabbit Vibrator named Rabby.

And kids? I have plenty of nieces and nephews to spoil. They made me happy enough. A dream of a wonderful husband, and 2.5 kids was just that, a dream.

Shaking my head clear of the cobwebs of my past, I took the exit off the loop. And under the I-45 underpass was the main entrance to the Outlet and I pulled in the parking lot by my two favorite stores, besides mine, Lane Bryant and Barnes and Noble. Sexy undergarments and a good, hot romance novel made my day complete. Owning a Kindle, I didn’t need to buy books from a bookstore anymore. I did like browsing the goods to help determine what I wanted to read on my e-reader. Historical romance novels were my absolute favorite; all that old-fashioned, alpha-male chivalry and courting transported me to a different time and place.

Today was Monday and although I was feeling off, I usually always stopped at my store to check on the girls. Today I was wearing my new line of Shimmer Jeans, which were a black boot-cut pair, paired with red high heeled ankle boots, and a red silk button-up off the shoulder blouse with lace trimming. The blouse was one of my more racy designs, and it made me feel somehow more chic and somewhat lascivious because the lace trimming came just above the swells of my breasts. It hinted at an inappropriate amount of cleavage. Nothing indecent but I loved the feeling of the silk and lace on my milky white skin.

I made my way over to my shop, Pyro-Princess Design and Style, PPDS for short, and was instantly filled with a sense of clarity. I named it this because what girl or woman doesn’t like being treated as a princess?
A
nd I had a thing for fire. As a teenager I loved everything that featured flames. Blankets, pillows, hell, my whole room had been decorated in red and blue flames. The store was my baby. It was all mine, with no financial partners to nag me.

Walking into the store, I noticed my three faithful employees, Cambria, Koralen and the third being my manager, Callana working diligently.

“You ladies look like y’all are having way too much fun!” I joked as I stepped up to the register and greeted Callana.

She’d been a childhood pen pal who lived in NOLA (New Orleans, Louisiana). Her daughter had been kidnapped and she had been traced to Houston, but after that, the trail went cold. She didn’t have anybody else, and I took it upon myself to offer her a place to stay until she got back on her feet and a job. I trusted her fully and knew that even as she was actively looking for Aurora, her daughter, she would still be rock solid as my manager. She accepted a place for a time, and had insisted I call her Callie like when we were teens. She was a year older than my twenty-five years with shoulder length brown, blue eyes, and shorter than myself. She stood at five foot nothing and had beautiful curves to match.

Callie looked at me and laughed. “Yeah, Sidda, a total blastfest. Mondays have always been a slow-steady kinda day. What are you doing today? Can’t you ever rest elsewhere? You work too hard.”

“It is my day off, Callie, so I can choose where I want to be. I’ve been feeling off today so I wanted to come here and make sure everything was going ok. What are our sales so far today? It doesn’t look busy now.”

I glanced around and noticed just a few customers browsing the skirt section of the store.

Callie let out a small laugh. “Yes, well, you were definitely not here about an hour ago, were you girlie? You know the rush we get around noon and one o’clock.” Callie ran a sales receipt through the register and handed it to me.

“763 dollars is good. And we have only been open since eleven. Its half past three now. This is great. Hopefully sales like this keeps up then I might see a raaaaise in y’alls future!” I wagged my eyebrows up and down.

“Well, I for one would be glad with a raise, whatever the amount. The extra money would go for my classes and for Damien. Now that Damien is a little bit older, I would like to put him in day-care. I think my mother-in-law Janice is tired of watching him all the time.” Cambria stated as she trekked her way closer towards the register counter.

“How’s Damien doing, Cammy? You haven’t brought him in, in a while. He is looking so handsome each time I see him.” Callie asked. I looked at Callie closely. In my heart, I knew she was thinking of her little girl and how she could look right now. My heart constricted for her. That pain and loss is most severe. Especially because of the evil people in the world.

“He’s doing okay, he’s starting to put words into sentences. It’s sometimes backwards, but he tries and it’s so adorable. I know y’all don’t mind him coming in while I work, but I don’t want him to get in anyone’s way.” Cammy said the last part in almost a whisper.

“Cambria, he is in no one’s way, believe me. Out of all the men I see, Damien is the best one so far. We miss our little handsome bodyguard.” I said and laughed.

Cambria married her high school sweetheart, Craig Cross, at seventeen. Craig graduated a year before Cammy. They were neighbors and grew up together. Craig joined the Air Force and when she was 20, Damien was born. Then a horrible tragedy hit, and Craig was killed in the line of duty and her horrid mother-in-law always felt like she needed a reminder of how she failed on her wifely and motherly duties. Also blamed Cambria for ‘pushing’ him into going to the service.

Coming here, to the shop, I knew I would feel better. Knowing these ladies would take care of the store and have been doing an excellent job of it since opening almost a year ago, made me feel better than earlier.

My usual days off were Sundays and Mondays. Since the store opened up, PPDS was closed on Sundays. I had always thought Sundays were a time to spend with family, friends and worship.

“Well ladies, I will see you tomorrow.”

With that, I walked out and waved to Koralen who was setting up the new window display with the new line. Life was grand.

12

Send Me a Dream

 

 

 

 

..::
Siddaleigh
::..

 

Outside of the girls at work, I only had one true girl-friend, Mags, and since she was on the other side of the world at this moment pursuing an interior design dream, I was glad these girls could take care of something I loved and keep the store in excellent shape.

I convinced the girls to come with me to church one early morning and ever since then, we all went to the early worship service at 8:30, and afterwards met up at my place for an after church get-together to have pastries and tea. Girl-talk that evidently all of us girls needed every week. Sometimes it would go as far as margaritas and chips, but it just depended on the mood of us all.

Strolling out of the store backwards, I began turning and rammed into someone. Knocking the girl and myself down, I noticed it was one of my regulars, Brianne.

“Oh my goodness, Brianne. I am so sorry. Are you alright? I almost made you into a pancake.”

“It’s okay, Sidda. I wasn’t watchin’ either.” The younger woman had an abundance of energy and constantly smiled brightly whenever I saw her. “I hope I didn’t hurt you either. You’re lookin’ a little flushed.”

“Oh, I’m ‘kay. Today’s just a blah kinda day for me.” I gave Brianne a side lopped smile and began walking away when the girl caught up to me and tapped my shoulder.

“Yes, Brianne, did you need something?”

Seeing the blush of pink spread across Brianne’s face, I started to feel awkward. When she finally nodded, I smiled and made a movement with my hands to urge Brianne on.

“I just had a question. I know it’s kind of personal and probably forward and rude of me to ask but uhm,” Brianne looked around as if she didn’t want to ask, but I nodded my head in approval and Brianne blurted out, “Are you involved with anyone?”

I started and was wide eyed for a moment. I have no idea how to answer.

“Uhm, uh. Brianne I am glad you think I am attractive, but I don’t really swing that, uhm, way.”

I twiddled my hands in an effort to discourage her attempt at continuing.

“Oh, no,” Brianne laughed loudly and quickly continued, “I meant like a boyfriend.”

“Oh, well that’s not really a subject I discuss but the answer is no. I don’t need or want to get involved with anyone right now. My career and school classes take a lot of my time. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I was just heading home.”

Doing a quick about face, I practically raced towards the exit and out towards my car to escape.

 


 

..::
Konner
::..

 

Seeing my little sister walking out of a shop, I caught up to her, and nudged her elbow. “What are you doing, Bri? You look as if you’ve been smacked in the face. Are you okay?” I felt my face tauten and my jaw clench.

Brianne smiled and rolled her eyes. “Yes, of course I’m okay, deartháir mór.” Her Gaelic was rusty but hearing her call me older brother in our home dialect made me proud.

I knew Brianne hardly knew Gaelic since she was born here in America. I was ten when our parents decided to emigrate from Ireland to the States. I also knew that she usually only called me that when she wanted something or was hiding something.

“Hmm. Now Bri, you don’t call me that unless you’re up to something.”

“Nope. Of course not. Where did you come from? I’m waiting for Kent to get his clothes from the cleaners, so he dropped me off here on his way.”

Laughing, Brianne jiggled her two shopping bags at me. “And you know where I went shopping?”

Swatting the sacks with the PPDS logo in the middle away, I heard Brianne giggle louder.

“More Pyro-Princess clothes, huh? Why don’t you just kidnap the designer and lock her up with a sewing machine?”

I tugged on Brianne’s waist length strawberry blonde curls and dragged her teasingly towards the exit.

“Well, Konner, as a matter of fact, the owner of the store is the designer. Who is also single and like bombshell gorgeous. I know getting injured overseas on one of your missions won’t stop you from going back but maybe you ought to consider your other options.”

Before I had time to dissuade her of any kind of match making scheme, she rushed on. “I think you two should meet. Come on, Konner. You’re almost in your mid-thirties'. Don’t you think it’s time? Find someone to come home to?” With that, my little sister reached up to give me a kiss on the cheek and sauntered off.

“I don’t…BRIANNE!”

Calling out to her didn’t seem to have any effect. My little sister just walked away. What just happened?

I was not interested in any kind of relationship, or what ends up being a relationshit. I had enough issues with our mother trying to get me to settle down.

After fifteen years in the Navy, with the last decade being a Navy SEAL, settling down wasn’t really in my mind-set yet. Of course, it would happen eventually, but I wasn’t ready to commit yet.

Taking a round in the left leg was a major let down. I received six months injured leave with rehab. I had to wait and heal before I was able to get back to base in Coronado, California to get checked to see if I could return to the field and my boys.

Some of the guys up at the NASNI, the Naval Air Station North Island, wanted me to take an instructors position if things didn’t go according to plan this time. This was definitely not my first rodeo. Right now, I felt that life without that surge of adrenaline and adventure, was not in the cards just yet. Especially minus the ridiculous politics that came with it, that instructing others to be better than I was, am, wasn’t my dream retirement. I was only three years past thirty. I wasn’t ready to become a desk and office guy.

Either way, romance and settling down? Not in my deck of cards. Hook-ups? Yeah, I could do that any day. No problem. But finding the one? I did that already.

When my camp had been ambushed, I lost everything. Her information, all of my email accounts were deleted to keep from foreign hackers. I wasn’t supposed to exist. The only thing I had of the girl who would remain to this day my soul mate, was a deeply creased faded picture.

The only girl that made me think of forever, should now be about twenty-five. She was my ‘hard-on girl’. My father once told me about the ‘hard-on girl’. That if any one woman made him hard as a rock instantly, she was something very special. It didn’t happen with every woman after that age of horny teenager. I hadn’t really figured it out at that time, but she was the only one that ever made that happen. Remembering what my old man told me when I was younger, made me want to find her all over again.

Walking out of a mall exit, I headed over to my new 2013 black Chevy Camaro SS, when I heard a clicking noise nearby. Looking around to check it out, it was like a sucker punch to my gut when I caught sight of the most beautiful woman I had ever laid eyes on. At least from the behind, I hadn’t seen her face yet.

From the back, she had a nice straight posture with ample curves; like rounded hips that made me wish I could put my hands on and a waist that was a nice curvy hourglass shape. She had untamed curls flowing to the middle of her shoulder blades and a nice round bubbly backend I’d like to sink my teeth into. And just like that, instant hard-on.

What the hell?

When she caught me staring at her, I felt a wave of fervor come over my entire body.

What the hell is wrong with me? I don’t know that girl but damn if she doesn’t look familiar.

The front was better than the back. She was stacked. From where I was standing I couldn’t see her eyes and features too clearly, but she looked like steam waiting to be let out of a covered boiling pot. HOT. Like Death Valley hot.

Nope, I might have a hard-on for this girl, but she couldn’t be who I thought she could be. It couldn’t be that easy. Sighing, I finally looked away and slid into my car. Then cursed for forgetting the reason I came out all this way to the mall in the first place. My parents’ thirty-fifth anniversary party was this weekend, and I was my father’s errand boy to pick up the necklace my father special ordered from Tiffany’s.

Dammit.

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