Carpe Bead'em (14 page)

“What about Beadnicks?” Lucy is licking
the salt around her strawberry margarita. “Get it, Beadnicks. Beatnicks, hippy,
beads.”

Beadnicks.

The girls’ weekend went by so fast. We
spent a lot of time laughing, and cherishing our friendship.

“Henry?” Lucy and I open the door to the
best greeting from the cutest little white poodle. Pink Henry is no longer pink,
and I was getting used to having a metrosexual dog.

Henry bounces between Lucy and I, as we
both try to retain his attention. Lucy concedes and goes up stairs while I bathe
in doggie licks.

“Wilson?” I scream through the floor
vent between kisses.

“Welcome back.” Wilson creeps around the
door from the kitchen. “You don’t have to yell.” He points to Henry and starts
to pat the furry white poodle. “I hope you don’t mind. I took him to the groomer.”

Henry jumps from my arms to follow
Wilson back to the kitchen as I lag behind.

Wilson’s voice changes into doggie
voice, “He loved it, and he was such a good boy. He is so handsome. Isn’t he,
momma?”

Wilson picks Henry up and lets him
smoother him in kisses. There definitely had to be some male bonding going on
over the weekend.

“Momma?” I take Henry out of his arms.

I can’t believe it. Pink or not, I’m
actually happy to see the little fellow.

Week Five

Happiness is a
handful of beads.

Author Unknown

“Hallie, line one.” Beatrice buzzes the
phone. I set aside the buying catalog for the spring collection. Usually I fold
down the pages of the items I want and most certainly can’t afford. This time
I’m not even looking for that, I’m folding pages down making note of color
creations for Beadnicks bracelets.

“This is Hallie.” I haphazardly answer
the phone.

The new color schemes for the fall
season will make great bracelets.

“I hope you’re settled now.”

My heart stops when it hits the pit in
my stomach. Never in my wildest dreams did I really think he’d find me here,
and a smile appears across my face once I realize the effort he had to make.

“Hallie?”

“Bo! Hi how are you?” I try to keep my
voice from squeaking. “Yes, yes. I am settled.”

“Good. I’m still running and people are
still coming out to the bar.”

“That’s great.”

My heart is pounding so hard, I’m afraid
he can hear the thud through the phone.

Breathe, Hallie.

“How’s the store?”

“Boutique.” I correct him.

“Oh. Well, how’s the boutique?”

“Better than I could’ve imagined.”

What is up with all the small talk? Go
ahead, ask me to marry you.
I can forgive him for being with Piper, as a lapse
of judgment on his part. Everyone deserves a second chance.
Right?

“I’m coming to Cincy for a meeting and I
thought we can hang out. I mean…if that’s okay?”

“When?” My head reels with a million
ideas.

“This weekend.” The silence is deafening
between the lines. “I know it’s not much notice, but I just found out.”

I flip my calendar to find an empty two
days off, but I’m supposed to work on Beadnicks. I would’ve killed for this a
few weeks ago. While he’s gone to his meeting, I can work on beading.

“Sure, this weekend is great.” I rub my
hands along my hair not sure if I’m happy, nervous or both.

“Super. Email me directions, and I’ll be
there by noon on Saturday.”

“Okay.” I note it on my calendar as if
it isn’t already burnt on my brain. “See you Saturday.”

“And Hallie?” Bo catches me just before
I hang up and start doing the Snoopy dance.

“Yes?” I bit my bottom lip.
Is he
already backing out?

“I’m looking forward to seeing you.”

Why? Why’d he say that?
I don’t
understand why he’s telling me all this right now. He’s had the last couple of
years to figure this out and now that I don’t live near him, he decides to get
personal.

I dwell on his last words the entire
week. It’s hard to stay focused at work, home, and beading, so I went through
my routine until B-day came.

B-day is what Beatrice and I called Bo’s
arrival. It’s hard to concentrate when I say his name, and using the code name
made it seem more like a mission then actually seeing Bo.

On B-day, my morning run definitely
doesn’t help my jitters. It only makes them worse. Thinking about Bo, and what
might happen on his visit, turns my mind a big fat mosh pit. I trip over every
pebble and crack. With my last tumble, I decide to stop at One Bead at a Time
and check on the debut of Beadnicks.

“Good morning.” Dee chimed over the
teenagers she’s working with.

She’s showing them how to make chandelier
earrings, which I can’t even do—yet. I look over her shoulder watching her
manipulate the pliers in one hand and the pins in the other.

“I thought you’re having a guest today?”
Her voice rose an octave. She rolls her eye, “Teenagers.”

She better not let them get under her
skin, they are the majority of her business.

“They come in here wanting to make the
next cool thing and they can’t focus long enough to string one bead. And look
they’re too busy texting instead of listening.”

“They are our future.” I nod toward the
young girl, at the counter, trying on a couple different Beadnicks bracelets.

She has them layered up and down her
arm. I walk over, not only to see if I can answer any question, but see how
amazing they look on her.

“What do you think?” I wonder and hope
she tells me the truth.

I’ve always heard teenagers don’t have a
problem telling how they feel, or speaking their mind. I want to know exactly
what’s going through her head. I know that I love them, but can my designs hold
up to the American teenage-girl standards? In theory, if they like it, it’s
trendy and ready to take off.

“Really?” She seems surprised that I’d
be interested in her opinion.

“Really.” I don’t want to tell her I
made them. I want a real hand-to-God answer.

The girl points from one bracelet to the
next. “Love this one. This one is kinda for older people, you know, like, in
their thirties, and I love this one.”

OMG!
Only three are left on the
display. I look under the counter where I put my extra cards to find … nothing.
Not even a card. I glance back at Dee, who’s got a huge-ass grin on her face
and mouths,
“I told you so.”

“As a matter of fact, my friend came in
here and bought this really cool bracelet.” She put the two “love this one”
bracelets on her wrist. “I came in here hoping to just buy one, and decided to
make some earrings.”

She doesn’t look at me—after all, who am
I to her—because she’s too busy admiring
my
creative designs.

“What did the bracelet look like?” I
lean in a little closer, not wanting to miss a detail.

She walks around the store looking at
all the different beads. She carefully inspects each basket. “These.”

She picks up a handful of funky beads
with spikes all over them. I made a couple in different colors that I thought
would be perfect for summer.

“Great. Pick out what you want and I’ll
make you one for twenty dollars.” I turn, not bothering to take in her shocked
expression now that she knows I’m the designer, and I pick up the bead board. I
got a few scrap materials I know Dee won’t mind. I watch the teenager pick out
several different beads. I have to make the bracelet perfect.

The summer colors she picks matches her
cutoff jeans, tanks and flip-flops. With twenty more dollars in the register
and a new design in my head, I realize two hours have passed without a single
thought about Bo, or his impending visit.

“I’ll be back later.” I yell out to Dee,
who’s bent over, helping another future beader. “I have a couple ideas with
stretchy cord.”

Because I lost time, I have to jog back
and immediately get ready for Bo, only I can’t get the new designs out of my
head.  Quickly, I jot down my ideas.

My skinny jeans with my white tapestry
hippie blouse, is casual and cute. Minimal makeup and my tassel hair are my
best accessories. Well, maybe my seven-millimeter sterling silver ball beaded
bracelet I throw together is the best accessory.

When a car door shuts, I pull back the
curtain to peek at the most beautiful man I’ve ever laid my eyes on. I stop
myself from flinging the door open and running out to profess how much I’ve
missed running behind that perfectly shaped head of his.

Henry jumps up and down yipping. He’s
protecting me. How cute.

“Gorgeous.” Bo yells from the car.

My heart flutters. I did clean my ears
with Q-Tips so I know I heard him. He just called me gorgeous. Which is not the
same as beautiful.

Gorgeous is showily brilliant, where
beautiful is generally pleasing. I prefer gorgeous.

“Where did you get that gorgeous
poodle?” Bo grabs Henry out of my arms. “My mom bred poodles when I was a
child.” He’s letting Henry shower him with doggie kisses.

I glare at Henry. Traitor.

“Yes, he is gorgeous.” There is
something endearing about a grown man—a hot grown man—letting a little poodle
lick him like that.

Bo follows me up the stairs to the extra
bedroom—Lucy’s bedroom. She’s in Mason Crossing, like I knew she would be.

For the first time ever, Bo and I are alone.

“It’s good to see you, Hallie.” His
voice was thick and steady.  “Are you still training for our marathon?”

Our marathon?
He thinks of
the marathon as
our
marathon.

“I run every day. I miss our morning
runs. I mean, I miss running with people.” I stammer. “You know, the company.”

An awkward pause falls between us.

“So you didn’t miss me?” His hazel eyes twinkle
as his lip curls.

“Of course I missed your comments on how
I’m not running to the best of my potential.” I bat my eyes in his direction.
“Ouch.” I rub my eyes.

I had no clue batting eyes can be
dangerous for your health.

“Let me see.” He walks over, tilts my
head and uses his finger to find the eyelash that’s ruining my sexy look.
“There it is.”

We both examine the teensy tiny eyelash
on the tip of his finger. “Make a wish.”

I wish as hard as I can. I close my eyes,
and strain my brain to come up with the best wish.

“What?” His brows drew together in an
agonizing expression. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” I assure him. “Everything is
great.”

It is. I realize that my life and
decisions no longer revolve around Bo and running or Gucci. It’s revolving
around my passions to make a future for myself. And if the utterly and
ridiculously handsome Bo fits into the equation, so much the better.

My wish was about beading. This three
months away isn’t so bad after all.  

“I can’t wait to hear about, but I have
to get going after I freshen up.” He walks into the guest bedroom.

“What.” He stops me before I go
downstairs. “Did Georgia tell you I saw her at the club?”

Did she tell you?”
Of course she did!
She’s one of my best friends! Duh! Girls before guy!

“She might’ve mention something in passing,
but I can’t recall. I’ve been so busy,” I spoke in a broken whisper.

I don’t want to lie to him, but I don’t
want him to know I’ve actually been avoiding him to keep my own heart safe.

He looks disappointed. “We can talk
later.”

“Come on, Henry!” I yell for him to
leave Bo alone.

“Wait.” Bo commands, again. “Did she
happen to say anything about a note?”

Henry wiggled around, trying to get out
of my arms.

“I told her about the note I wrote you.”
He watches me closely. “I told her to have you call me.”

“A note?”  I pick up Henry’s ball and
throw it down the stairs.

He can’t resist a good ball throw, and
darts down the stairs after it.

“I would like to talk to you over
dinner.” he said uncompromising, yet in a gentle way.

There’s no getting around this, and I
need to hit it head on, crash or not.

“Sure. When did you send me a note?”

Playing dumb is beginning to feel like
second skin.

“Your last night in Chicago when I took
you home. I left a note on your pillow.”

“You did?” I avoid Bo by picking up Henry’s
ball he dropped at my feet, and throw it again.