Hook Up (5 page)

Almost there. Just a little more, just a little further, and she would know. She dropped her mental shield completely.

Lust ripped through her, immobilized her. It was the same blast that had hit her when she was standing next to Ryan before the wedding, only stronger. She was blind, uncertain whose passion she was channeling, Darla’s or her own.

She snatched her hand away from Darla’s fingers and cleared her mind. Crystal wanted to physically shake off the lust that gripped her, but she was afraid to move. That blast had her so revved up she was afraid she might have an orgasm if she even crossed her legs. That would be really hard to explain to her new client.

“Darla, I’m sorry but we’re going to have to reschedule.” Crystal forced the words out.

Darla’s already tight expression became even more pinched as she frowned. “I knew this was a mistake.” She stood and glared at Crystal. “I don’t know why I thought a sex psychic could possibly be for real.”

Without reaching out to touch her emotions, Crystal couldn’t be sure, but she guessed the source of Darla’s anger was disappointment and frustration. “I don’t blame you for being angry, Darla, but please don’t give up. I know I can help you, but my emotions aren’t cooperating right now.” An understatement but accurate, since arousal still paralyzed her.

Darla didn’t look convinced, so Crystal tried again. “I won’t charge you for today’s session. Since we’ve spoken several times on the phone, I think I have a good idea of what is going on with you and your fiancé. I’d like you to try something simple for me. Next week we can dig a little deeper, I promise.” Next week, Ryan would be gone and she’d have control of her emotions again. Meanwhile, she was determined to do
something
to help her new client.

Crystal patted the spot next to her and was relieved when Darla edged back toward the couch and sat on the farthest cushion, still looking skeptical. Crystal reached into the box of chocolates and popped a truffle into her mouth. She was ridiculously glad when her client did the same. “You love him?”

Darla nodded.

“You sure you want to marry him?”

She nodded again.

“Okay, then, focus on that while I get something that should ease your penetration anxiety,” Crystal said firmly.

Darla choked on her chocolate.

“Wait here.” Crystal mentally crossed her fingers and stood. She took a careful step away from the couch. When she didn’t fall into Darla’s lap, convulsing in orgasm, she felt confident enough to stride out of the room, belt clanking.

She returned with a tube of lubricant and a bright purple vibrator that looked like a cross between a space ship and the letter Y. “Okay, this is an expensive device, but worth every penny.” She showed her the price tag. Darla raised an eyebrow but nodded, so Crystal crossed to the small sink in the corner and soaped up the vibe. She took her time rinsing it, then dried it with a paper towel. When she sat back down next to Darla, she tested the batteries. The vibrator buzzed to life. Darla jumped, causing the box of chocolates to slide to the floor.

Crystal tossed the box onto the coffee table and pressed the purple device into Darla’s hand. “I know it looks strange, but all the girls love this one. It’s
very
popular.” When Crystal told her what to do with the vibrator, Darla paled. Sweat beaded her upper lip as Crystal explained the complicated control panel. It was impossible not to sense her anxiety. Crystal had thought this would help, but there was no way to be certain without opening herself up to her client’s emotions again. Since she couldn’t afford to do that; she’d have to hope for the best. “Now, I’m going to lock the door behind me. I have the only key, but don’t worry, it also unlocks from the inside. Don’t worry about the noise, either—that’s why I’ve got all that fabric on the walls.”

Crystal pressed the tube of lubricant into Darla’s free hand and tossed a clean blanket over the chaise lounge. “Meet me at the front counter in half an hour?”

Darla’s nod was stiff.

“It’s gonna be great, Darla. You’ll see.” When Crystal reached the door she looked back. Darla sat, frozen on the couch, both hands full, knees pressed tightly together. Was she leading her client down the wrong path? Normally she would have gone deeper and stayed longer to make sure she understood the source of Darla’s anxiety, but she really couldn’t risk losing control again. She shut the door, making sure it locked behind her.

She paused at the desk to write up the bill for Darla’s new vibrator, giving her a hefty discount. “I’m going to the coffee shop,” she said, leaving the invoice on the counter. “I’ll be back to cash her out, but would you mind cancelling the rest of my clients today?”

“Sure.” Destiny opened the appointment book and grimaced. “Uh-oh…I booked you a consult with a new client this morning and I didn’t get his number.”

Crystal groaned. “What?”

“Sorry. He looked desperate, and there was a huge line. You would have said yes too.”

Yesterday, she would have said yes. But not today. “Fine,” she sighed. Not showing up would be bad for business. “What time?”

“Four-thirty.”

Crystal nodded and walked out of the store, trying not to be mad at Destiny, who was only trying to help her grow her business. She hurried down the street to the coffee shop and ordered the panini special and a hot mocha, hoping her lapse of control with Darla was caused by low blood sugar, but she knew that was wishful thinking. Panic welled up inside her and she clutched the counter. She hadn’t felt this out-of-control terrified since college.
Don’t think about it.

Clearing her mind helped, but it took her several endless minutes to calm her racing heart. She took her sandwich to a table and sat. This emotional insanity was temporary. Ryan was only here for the wedding. He’d leave, and she would be fine.

She ate quickly, and by the time she was finished, she had locked her own emotions inside and erected a tight block against everything outside. Nothing was getting out or coming in and she felt optimistic about the rest of her day. A half-hour consult with a new client was mostly paperwork, and Bonita would be with her tonight. She grabbed her coffee and headed back to the shop.

When she reached Come Again, Darla was already handing Destiny a signed credit card slip. Crystal hoped her flushed cheeks and bright eyes were signs of satisfaction. “Everything go okay?” Crystal asked, drawing her away from the front counter and out of range of Destiny’s excellent hearing.

Darla clutched her bag. “Well enough, I suppose. I don’t really have a frame of reference.”

“I’m sorry,” Crystal said quietly, following her to the door. “This isn’t how I wanted your first session to go. It won’t happen again, I promise. I hope you’ll give me another chance. I really do want to help you, Darla.”

Crystal could read nothing in her opaque gaze.

“Call me next week? To let me know how things are going?” Crystal asked. She held her breath as she waited for Darla’s answer.

“Maybe.”

The word felt like a blow and Crystal stood at the door, taking deep breaths and watching Darla walk down the street until the pain eased. When she could move again, she walked back through the store and picked up her coffee, downing the lukewarm, super-sweet beverage in one long gulp.

Destiny jumped off the barstool behind the counter. “Bonita called and said she’d meet you here at five. Hey, I don’t suppose you’d consider closing the store for me, since you have to stay anyway?” She gave Crystal a beseeching look, half starving puppy, half Hell’s Angel. “Johnny’s waiting for me at Downtown.”

Crystal licked whipped cream off her lips, restored enough by the sugar rush to tease her friend. “Well, we can’t have that, can we? Master Johnny Delcorral is notoriously impatient. Don’t worry about poor little me, trapped in the store all alone, waiting for that desperate client you scheduled.”

“Panic button is under the counter,” Destiny drawled, grabbing her motorcycle bag.

“You are brutal, my friend, just brutal. Any chance he’ll get cold feet and not show up?”

“Don’t count on it.”

Even through her shield, Crystal caught a sharp flash of emotion. “You’re feeling reckless, kiddo,” she warned. “Be careful today.”

Destiny laughed. “Blame it on my mama. She named me. What is destiny, if not dangerous? See you later!” She flew out the door.

Ryan changed out of his tux and killed the afternoon by exploring downtown Norton. It was an intriguing area with unique restaurants, art galleries and specialty shops. Western New York seemed full of places like this—quirky, historic and full of growth potential. No wonder Mark liked it here.

The late-afternoon sun gilded the top of a building across the street and he squinted against the glare. As he moved down the block, he caught sight of a tree growing out of a turret, then saw gargoyles guarding the eaves of the same building. The mix of old school architecture and bright-shiny new buildings worked for him. He’d love to see demographics on the area. Who lived in the downtown area, the suburbs? Where did they shop? What did they buy?

He wandered into the library and was tempted to find the business section and do some quick and dirty research on the area, but he only had a half hour to kill. Maybe he should spend it relaxing instead of working. He spotted a sign for new fiction and walked over to scan the shelf. A graphic novel immediately caught his eye and he settled into a leather chair, keeping a close watch on the time.

As it approached four o’clock, he put the book back on the shelf and headed outside. He turned onto the street where Come Again was located and spotted a coffee shop on the corner. Was Crystal an espresso shot kind of girl or a sweet and frothy syrup shot girl? Since he’d never known a woman to turn down chocolate, he ordered her a mocha, loaded, and got a cappuccino for himself.

The walls of the shop were painted an energizing shade of deep green and adorned with paintings by local artists. He recognized the gargoyle building, done in watercolor. There were several groupings of comfortable-looking leather armchairs and sleek coffee tables in the center of the room. Tables with leather-padded chairs lined the walls. Music played softly in the background. It was an ideal spot to work, meet with a friend or relax with a beverage, so why was the place completely empty except for him and the barista?

“Sir? Your drinks are ready.”

“Thanks,” he said, approaching the counter again. “This is my first time downtown and I really like this shop. Can I assume you get some business at other times of day?” The library had been pretty empty too. He would have expected both places to be streaming with people on a Saturday afternoon.

She snorted. “You can’t assume anything about Norton. We do a pretty good lunch business, but it’s hit or miss the rest of the time. I’ve tried everything—ads, deals, special menus—but I just can’t figure it out.”

He looked at the baked goods in the case. They looked homemade, not like cookie-cutter versions of the same scones, cookies and air-aged slices of cake he usually saw in coffee shops. “Are you the owner?” he asked.

She nodded, looking mournfully at the empty tables. “The owner, the baker, the barista and sometimes the cashier—you name it.”

“The cookies look delicious. What are those?” He pointed into the case.

“Chocolate Mudslides—full of raisins and walnuts.”

“Is there such a thing as too much chocolate?” He gestured at the mocha.

“Nope.”

“Then I’ll take two.”

She grinned. “On the house. Looks like I’ll be dropping them off at the Norton Mission on my way home tonight, anyway.”

“I insist on paying.” He handed her a twenty, resisting the urge to give her his business card. He didn’t want her to think he was hitting on her and he wasn’t going to be in town long enough to help her grow her business anyway. “Keep the change,” he said, accepting the bag of cookies.

Her chuckle was wry. “Thanks. Have a good afternoon.”

He tucked the bag under his arm and picked up the coffees. As he backed out the door, he took one more glance around the shop, making mental notes, before he turned his mind to the challenge ahead of him. Business was easy—do the research and don’t run out of money—but Crystal was a mystery to him, a mystery he wanted to solve.

The door to Come Again opened just as he reached it and a pink-cheeked redhead stepped outside and held the door for him.

“Thanks,” he said, glad to be spared the awkwardness of trying to open the door while holding two hot coffees and a bag of goodies.

He spotted Crystal behind the counter.

“Be right with you,” she called. Her back was turned as she reached to hang a pair of fur-lined handcuffs on the wall behind her. He wasn’t exactly sure what she was wearing, but it was black and made out of leather and something shiny. There were an ungodly number of hooks and laces across the back. It reminded him of a Chinese puzzle box he’d had as a kid. It had kept him busy for hours unhooking latches and bolts to get inside. When he had discovered the trick, it had been fiendishly simple. One button and the lid had popped open like magic. He wondered if Crystal’s complicated getup had a simple catch too. Maybe a hidden zipper?

She turned around and her welcoming smile disappeared. The heavy black lines around her eyes made them look huge and deep, and her lipstick was so dark it looked like it had been applied with a black Sharpie marker. It should have looked garish, but it suited her.