Lady Luck
Page 136
But she was a total librarian. To my recollection, I’d seen her four times, twice at the salon, once at La-La Land and once at the grocery store and each time she was in a dress, nice, stylish, hinting at her figure which was curvy and sweet but by no means showing off or doing anything to get even a little attention. And this was because she was shy, super shy. When you were talking to her, she often didn’t meet your eyes, she smiled in a way you could swear it was an allusion (which, incidentally, I thought was cool) and she had a melodic voice that was nevertheless very quiet, like a librarian’s voice should be.
And her name was Faye. Faye Goodknight.
Really, that was her name. Faye Goodknight.
Totally awesome name.
And just then, as my eyes honed in on her, she was staring at Chace Keaton.
No, not staring at him, she was gazing at him longingly.
Hmm. I liked that.
Then I watched her body jerk, her eyes cut to me, feeling mine on her. But before I could smile, her face flamed and she looked away.
Totally shy.
I chanced a glance at Chace. He had an open file folder on the table beside him, head bent to it, pen scribbling on it, plate set aside, finished eating but not done with what he was doing.
A very pretty woman who was into him had been staring at him and he didn’t know she existed.
I didn’t like that.
His wife had recently died but still, he didn’t like her and eventually he had to get back up on that horse.
The waitress came, took my order and when I was done, movement caught my eye and I watched Faye carrying her bag of takeaway coming my way to pass me to go to the door.
“Hey, Faye,” I called when she got close, her eyes tipped up, skimmed through me and she lifted her hand to tuck a shining, sheath of hair behind her ear.
“Uh, hey, Lexie,” she murmured then hurried by me.
I lost sight of her and was going to turn to watch her go but for some reason my eyes went to Chace and my body went still.
He was staring after Faye. I knew it. And he not only knew she existed, he really knew she existed.
And the expression on his face hurt to witness.
I’d never seen anything like that before but I figured it would be what a starving man looked like when he saw a plate of bread in front of him but he was too weak and it was too far for him to get to, he’d never make it so he was going to waste away without trying.
He wasn’t even going to reach.
Yes, that was what his expression looked like.
I knew it because I’d never seen that expression on my face but I felt that feeling for weeks when Ty and I were apart.
I tore my eyes from him, caught the eyes of the waitress, she tipped up her chin, finished refilling the coffee cup she was filling and came to me.
“Somethin’ else you need?” she asked.
“Yes, um… do you know Faye Goodknight?”
“Uh, yeah. Known her since she was about three. Lived here all her life, same’s me.”
“Is she married?”
The waitress, whose nameplate said Poppy, burst out laughing.
I waited for her to be done but I did it with a smile so she wouldn’t think I was rude.
Then she quit laughing and said, “No, hon, Faye ain’t married. Reason she’s a librarian, she lives in a book… all the time. Life goes on around her, she has no clue. Head in the clouds, rest a’ her wrapped in a cocoon. Don’t know if she’s ever even dated.”
That was just plain weird.
Therefore I pointed out this weirdness. “But, that’s weird. She’s very pretty.”
“Yup,” Poppy agreed.
“So, you would think…” I started to deduce then quit and asked quietly, “Did something happen to her?”
Poppy’s brows went up. “To Faye?”
I nodded.
She shook her head. “Nope. No way. Nothin’ ever happens to Faye. Not one thing. Some folks are just that way. She’s always been quiet. She’s always liked fantasy worlds better’n real ones. Just her way. She’s a sweet little thing. Comes from a good family she’s close to, she’s just…” Poppy shrugged, “Faye.”
Very pretty. Good family. Librarian. Very possibly a virgin. Just the woman you’d set up in a house behind a white picket fence who would bake pies, be the leader of your daughter’s Brownie troop who you could train to give world class head.
Her looks, her demeanor, her age which I figured was not far off mine and her possible virgin status meaning she was probably one of two of her type in the entire state of Colorado. Which made her, at my approximation, one of maybe one hundred in the entire United States of America.
Worth hanging around Carnal for, let her sit waiting in the wings as you sowed your wild oats, even if your boss was dirty, stinking filth.
Then suddenly she’s completely out of your reach when you’re forced to marry the town’s crazy, playing slut, your father is a sleazebag, albeit a rich one, and even though you were shoved in the mud but risked a lot to pull yourself out and get clean, you’d never quit feeling dirty.
I nodded to Poppy again and asked, “Can you do me a favor?”
“Sure,” she replied.
“Can you change my order from takeaway and serve it at Detective Keaton’s table?”
She blinked. Then her mouth dropped open. Then her eyes darted back and forth between me and Chace’s table. I came in relatively frequently but never chitchatted with her because she was always busy. Still, she knew me. She knew Chace. She knew Misty. She knew Ty. And she knew our intermingling history.
This wasn’t a surprise. Everyone did.
Then hesitantly she repeated, “Uh… sure.”
“Thanks,” I whispered, sucked in air, turned from the counter and walked on my high heels through the diner toward Chace’s table.
His eyes were on me when I was ten feet away.
I didn’t stop until my ass was planted across from him.
He held my eyes a moment and then said low, “Lexie.”
“Hi,” I replied softly.
“Somethin’ I can do for you?”
“Yeah, sit there and listen to me say thank you for helping me and Ty.”
He said nothing, just held my eyes.
So I said, “Thank you.”
“My job,” he replied.
“No it wasn’t,” I whispered. “What you did was beyond the call of duty and we both know it.”
He again said nothing but his gaze never left mine.
“So, thank you.”
He jerked up his chin then muttered, “Don’t mention it.”
And her name was Faye. Faye Goodknight.
Really, that was her name. Faye Goodknight.
Totally awesome name.
And just then, as my eyes honed in on her, she was staring at Chace Keaton.
No, not staring at him, she was gazing at him longingly.
Hmm. I liked that.
Then I watched her body jerk, her eyes cut to me, feeling mine on her. But before I could smile, her face flamed and she looked away.
Totally shy.
I chanced a glance at Chace. He had an open file folder on the table beside him, head bent to it, pen scribbling on it, plate set aside, finished eating but not done with what he was doing.
A very pretty woman who was into him had been staring at him and he didn’t know she existed.
I didn’t like that.
His wife had recently died but still, he didn’t like her and eventually he had to get back up on that horse.
The waitress came, took my order and when I was done, movement caught my eye and I watched Faye carrying her bag of takeaway coming my way to pass me to go to the door.
“Hey, Faye,” I called when she got close, her eyes tipped up, skimmed through me and she lifted her hand to tuck a shining, sheath of hair behind her ear.
“Uh, hey, Lexie,” she murmured then hurried by me.
I lost sight of her and was going to turn to watch her go but for some reason my eyes went to Chace and my body went still.
He was staring after Faye. I knew it. And he not only knew she existed, he really knew she existed.
And the expression on his face hurt to witness.
I’d never seen anything like that before but I figured it would be what a starving man looked like when he saw a plate of bread in front of him but he was too weak and it was too far for him to get to, he’d never make it so he was going to waste away without trying.
He wasn’t even going to reach.
Yes, that was what his expression looked like.
I knew it because I’d never seen that expression on my face but I felt that feeling for weeks when Ty and I were apart.
I tore my eyes from him, caught the eyes of the waitress, she tipped up her chin, finished refilling the coffee cup she was filling and came to me.
“Somethin’ else you need?” she asked.
“Yes, um… do you know Faye Goodknight?”
“Uh, yeah. Known her since she was about three. Lived here all her life, same’s me.”
“Is she married?”
The waitress, whose nameplate said Poppy, burst out laughing.
I waited for her to be done but I did it with a smile so she wouldn’t think I was rude.
Then she quit laughing and said, “No, hon, Faye ain’t married. Reason she’s a librarian, she lives in a book… all the time. Life goes on around her, she has no clue. Head in the clouds, rest a’ her wrapped in a cocoon. Don’t know if she’s ever even dated.”
That was just plain weird.
Therefore I pointed out this weirdness. “But, that’s weird. She’s very pretty.”
“Yup,” Poppy agreed.
“So, you would think…” I started to deduce then quit and asked quietly, “Did something happen to her?”
Poppy’s brows went up. “To Faye?”
I nodded.
She shook her head. “Nope. No way. Nothin’ ever happens to Faye. Not one thing. Some folks are just that way. She’s always been quiet. She’s always liked fantasy worlds better’n real ones. Just her way. She’s a sweet little thing. Comes from a good family she’s close to, she’s just…” Poppy shrugged, “Faye.”
Very pretty. Good family. Librarian. Very possibly a virgin. Just the woman you’d set up in a house behind a white picket fence who would bake pies, be the leader of your daughter’s Brownie troop who you could train to give world class head.
Her looks, her demeanor, her age which I figured was not far off mine and her possible virgin status meaning she was probably one of two of her type in the entire state of Colorado. Which made her, at my approximation, one of maybe one hundred in the entire United States of America.
Worth hanging around Carnal for, let her sit waiting in the wings as you sowed your wild oats, even if your boss was dirty, stinking filth.
Then suddenly she’s completely out of your reach when you’re forced to marry the town’s crazy, playing slut, your father is a sleazebag, albeit a rich one, and even though you were shoved in the mud but risked a lot to pull yourself out and get clean, you’d never quit feeling dirty.
I nodded to Poppy again and asked, “Can you do me a favor?”
“Sure,” she replied.
“Can you change my order from takeaway and serve it at Detective Keaton’s table?”
She blinked. Then her mouth dropped open. Then her eyes darted back and forth between me and Chace’s table. I came in relatively frequently but never chitchatted with her because she was always busy. Still, she knew me. She knew Chace. She knew Misty. She knew Ty. And she knew our intermingling history.
This wasn’t a surprise. Everyone did.
Then hesitantly she repeated, “Uh… sure.”
“Thanks,” I whispered, sucked in air, turned from the counter and walked on my high heels through the diner toward Chace’s table.
His eyes were on me when I was ten feet away.
I didn’t stop until my ass was planted across from him.
He held my eyes a moment and then said low, “Lexie.”
“Hi,” I replied softly.
“Somethin’ I can do for you?”
“Yeah, sit there and listen to me say thank you for helping me and Ty.”
He said nothing, just held my eyes.
So I said, “Thank you.”
“My job,” he replied.
“No it wasn’t,” I whispered. “What you did was beyond the call of duty and we both know it.”
He again said nothing but his gaze never left mine.
“So, thank you.”
He jerked up his chin then muttered, “Don’t mention it.”
