Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 75836 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75836 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
While Riley eyed me, Kari was eyeing her.
“You look familiar to me,” Kari said. “Have we met before?”
“Not unless you’ve been to Pittsburgh,” Riley said. “This is my first time here.”
“Nope, never have. I’ve never ventured east of the Dakotas, actually. I prefer the openness of the west, you know?”
“It is nice,” Riley agreed. “Nothing like…Pittsburgh.”
“Still, there’s something about you that seems familiar to me.”
“Maybe I just have one of those faces.”
I let out a laugh. Riley did not have “one of those faces.” She was as beautiful and unique as women came.
Both she and Kari turned their gazes on me.
“Why exactly are you laughing?” Kari asked.
“No reason. Have you picked your rose yet?” I nodded to Riley.
Kari smiled. “If Mattie here is offering you a rose, I’d take it. All the girls around here would love to get a rose from him.”
Riley blushed once more. “You’re the expert,” she said to Kari. “You pick one. They’re all beautiful to me.”
She withdrew a gorgeous dark pink bloom, wrapped it in tissue, and handed it to Riley. “That’s two dollars and twenty-three cents,” she said to me.
I dug two singles out of my wallet and laid them on the counter and then checked my pocket and pulled out a quarter. “Keep the change.” I winked at Kari.
Riley buried her nose in the petals of the rose. “Mmm. I love that fragrance. It’s so calming.”
“Rose essential oil is a great relaxant,” Kari said.
“I know,” Riley said. “At home, I rinse my hair in rosewater. Keeps it really soft and silky.”
I kept myself from widening my eyes. Rinsing her hair in rosewater? Again, didn’t sound like any high school teacher I knew.
“Thanks, Kari.” I reached toward the door.
“Anytime. Nice to meet you, Riley.” Kari shook her head. “I wish I could figure out why you look so familiar to me.”
Riley laughed nervously. “Nice to meet you too.”
Once we were back out on the sidewalk, I turned to Riley and smiled. “You are something.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re just…a puzzle. A puzzle, Riley Mansfield, and I’d really love to find all the missing pieces.”
“Oh? Well, you’re kind of a puzzle yourself.”
“Me?” I guffawed. “I’m an open book. Ask anyone.”
“Are you? Then tell me about your mother.”
Wow.
That had come right out of left field and hit me right in the temple.
I didn’t talk about my mother.
I didn’t have to. Everyone in town knew my story. No one outside of town did. I never discussed it with visitors or renters.
I wasn’t about to begin now.
After a painful minute of silence, Riley said, “Not such an open book after all.”
I met her dark gaze. “Tell you what. I’ll tell you all about my mother, if you do something for me.”
“What’s that?”
“Tell me what you’re hiding, Riley.”
She looked to the ground. “Nothing.”
“Bullshit.”
She brought her gaze back to mine and glared at me. “Nothing. Not a damned thing.”
“You’re a good liar when you have to be. You could fool most anyone else, I think.”
She thrust the rose in my face. “I’m not a liar. If that’s what you think of me, keep your damned rose.”
I eased her arm down. “It’s your rose, Riley. I want you to have it. It’s beautiful, but it’s not nearly as beautiful as you are. I want you to have that silver and pink sapphire pendant I made as well. I don’t give gifts lightly, and I don’t appreciate having them shoved back in my face.”
“If you think—”
“I don’t think anything. We both know there are things you’re not telling me. For one, I don’t believe for a minute that you’re a high school business teacher.”
“I am!”
“Okay, then. What classes do you teach?”
She opened her mouth and then closed it. Opened it again. “Business education.”
“Okay. What specific classes?”
“Marketing. Merchandising.”
“Merchandising? At the high school level?”
“Sure. Why not?”
“High-school-level business classes are things like accounting, keyboarding, entrepreneurship. Even business law. But not merchandising.”
“My high school has an advanced curriculum.”
“I see.”
“Fuck you.” She threw the tissue-wrapped rose down and stomped on it. “If you don’t believe me, fuck you!”
“That’s not the only thing I don’t believe. I don’t believe you’re from Pittsburgh. If I had to guess, I’d say you were from New York.”
“Oh? Based on what, exactly?”
“The fact that you have that uptight New York look.”
She scoffed.
“Also the fact that you once referred to Pittsburgh as New Pittsburgh.”
“I did not.”
“You did, and what’s more, you know you did. You’re blushing again, and you’re not looking me in the eye.” I leaned down, picked up the now trampled rose, and handed it to her. “This is still yours, and I still want to know you. I just want to know the real you. Show me the real you, and I’ll show you the real me.”
She took the rose. For a split second, I wasn’t sure she would, but she did.