The Right Move (Mable Falls Book 1) Page 5

  I’m totally screwed, and allow myself to shake with the built up sobs that somehow ironically help me to vent out my frustration and despair. While I’m researching places to live, a Facebook bubble message pops up on my messenger. It’s from Alexa, the sweet and bubbly bakery shop owner.

  She’s asking me if I want to join her and some friends for a book club meeting on Tuesday. The message is enticing with fun things like food and drinks.

  I’m so moved by the touching gesture, that I decide to go to pull myself out of the hole I’ve dug for myself. I’m in a rut and a little girl’s night out might just be the antidote I need right now before becoming homeless. I may be drowning, but Alexa has just thrown me a temporary lifeline.

  And I’m going to grab it.

  Chapter 7

  My favorite thing to do when I get home from the motorcycle shop every night is to scrub off all the dirt and grime that accumulates on my skin and sticks to my clothing throughout the wear and tear of the day. The steam billows into little foggy clouds in the bathroom and it smells like suds in here as I lather myself up to achieve that clean feeling that I relish at the end of each day.

  Dusk is on the rapid approach during this early spring afternoon. It’s a little after five o’clock in the evening. I can’t wait to kick back with a cold beer and maybe see if a baseball game is on TV tonight.

  I stand under the water for a few more minutes, unable to move a single muscle because it’s so relaxing and warm. The water pelts against my back in massaging movements before trickling and sliding off down the rest of my torso. I have an awesome shower. Its huge, made of marble, and fit for a king.

  Not that I consider myself to be anything remotely close to royalty or anything, but it’s nice to have something grand to come home to every once in a while, and my shower definitely fits that description. There’s a huge rain forest type of nozzle that hangs from the middle of the ceiling which brings both style and comfort.

  Knowing I can’t stand here under this blissful habitat of warmth to hide away and dwell forever, I twist the nozzle and the water disappears, back into the pipes in the wall. I grab a towel off the rack on the wall just outside the glass shower double doors and pat myself dry, rubbing the towel with rough force on my wet hair that’s always a bit longer and unruly at the top.

  As a rule, I’m not one to fuss over my appearance, but even I have to admit that my hair is one of my best features. Let’s just say that I probably won’t have to be buying out the shelves of Rogaine or hair thinning products anytime soon, unlike some of my unfortunate friends.

  I run a comb through my hair and toss on some aftershave. My face is still relatively smooth since shaving yesterday, but I enjoy the masculine fragrance of the stuff, so I slap a generous amount on my cheeks anyway.

  I throw on a white t-shirt and a clean pair of jeans, ready to relax for the remainder of the evening. I don’t mind being out here at the lake mansion by myself. Girls are the furthest thing from my mind right now, and I relish in the quality alone time I get to enjoy here out in the seclusion of the woods. Sure, I have neighbors, but their houses are far enough away that I’m never bothered by them.

  When I step out of my bedroom, a sweet aroma fills the air around me, and it’s definitely not that of my aftershave. It’s the unmistakable scent of chocolate chip cookies, and perhaps the smell of snickerdoodles as well.

  I walk out to the hallway and glance down over my second story open foyer, placing my elbows over the wooden guard railings. As I glance over the balcony, my memory suddenly jolts me back to reality.

  Shit. I completely forgot all about offering up my house to my cousin Alexa tonight so that she can hold her book club in a decent venue.

  I groan internally, but know it’s too late to protest now because Alexa is as sweet as the baked goods she prepares. Not to mention, her tiny apartment won’t fit five people comfortably, much less a whole crowd.

  I continue to glance down the balcony to the open concept kitchen and living room below. My kitchen is off to the left side of the house, and only partially visible from up here, unlike my living room in the center of the first floor.

  Observing Alexa work, I can hear her humming an unfamiliar tune as she happily bakes. Her natural joy and charisma brings a smile to my face. Just like me, she’s found a career she loves.

  She is wearing her trademark apron, white with a single red rose in the center. Alexa loves floral print, and every time I see her it seems like she’s wearing a different, trendy style dress that’s always long in length and fits her curvy shape perfectly.

  Tonight is no different, and her long dark hair ends with feathering just above her waist. She’s carefully arranging a platter of fresh baked cookies which she places down on the counter.

  Several bottles of wine sit in the corner of the breakfast bar overlooking the living room and there are two food trays containing cold cut sandwiches with the cases open for easily accessible grabbing.

  Plastic cups and plates decorate the rest of the white and grey swirled marble countertops and it looks like a charming and welcoming feast in the making.

  Leave it to Alexa to throw a knock out type of party. She’s better with people than I am. Me, I’ve been burned too many times in my life to take off my heart shield at this point, but I have to love her for the way she cares for people and brings them together with food.

  She’s like the Martha Stewart of Mable Falls, Texas. She honestly should have her own baking show. I’d vouch for her one hundred percent. I watch as she picks up one remaining dining room chair, with its plush red velvet seat that is so comfortable I had to buy it when I saw it in the furniture store showroom. Then, she carries the chair to accompany the rest into the living room where it looks like she’s formed a little half circle around the couch and the loveseat.

  Now, there is an offering of ample seating, looking to house roughly about twelve people or so. The dining room furniture set was the first thing I bought for myself when I moved into the lake house, anticipating that one day maybe I’d host huge dinner parties where friends and family gathered around it.

  I haven’t hosted a formal dinner parry to date yet, but judging by the grand scale of a book club that Alexa is putting on for her friends, at least the chairs will get some decent use tonight. I decide that I should walk downstairs and offer Alexa some help, if she needs it. At least I should say hello to her before retreating back to my master bedroom. I’m not interested in listening to a bunch of girl chat, but I should be friendly enough to at least say hi to my cousin before the chaos begins and everyone starts to arrive.

  It’s not exactly the marvelous evening I’d planned for myself, but I take it all in stride as I jog down the stairs while planting an enthusiastic smile on my face.

  “Hey Alexa,” I greet her with a little wave and stand awkwardly by my subzero stainless steel refrigerator.

  My kitchen has a very rustic feel with splashes of industrial design, an acquired taste that I’ve come to know and love. The kitchen is the heart of the home and I hope that Alexa and her friends can make themselves comfortable without me getting involved.

  “Hey Mason!” Alexa inevitably squeals with delight and reaches over to grab me for a bear hug. She pats my back and stares up into my eyes as if I’m a sight for sore eyes.

  “I just got out of the shower and smelled your delicious cookies,” I chuckle and prop my hand on the counter.

  “Oh, right,” Alexa nods and gestures to the tray of chocolate chip delights. “Do you want one?”

  It’s hard for me to resist the temptation, even though I know I should decline so that her guests can enjoy them first.

  “Do you have enough?” I ask and peer over the counter where the cookies taunt and beckon me.

  “Absolutely!” Alexa playfully swats at my chest as if I’m crazy for even assuming there wouldn’t be enough to go around.

  “Well I suppose your guests won’t miss just one,” I laugh and carefully retr
ieve the softest looking one on the top.

  “Honey, please,” Alexa states with enough sass to set off a round of fireworks. “Alexa always makes sure to double the recipes,” she confesses.

  I take a sizable bite of the cookie and the buttery goodness melts into pure bliss on my tongue.

  “Wow,” I mumble with a mouthful. “These are incredible.”

  “I know.” Alexa plants a hand on her hip and tosses me a wink.

  “Do you need any help getting the food set out?” I ask the question, but as I glance around I realize just how ridiculous I sound. Alexa has everything under control just like always.

  “I don’t need any help,” she affirms with a wide grin. “I am just so thankful that you let me borrow your cool digs for the night!”

  I chuckle. “My cool digs?”

  “Yeah!” Alexa chimes. “I’m going to be the hit of the book club hosting at a luxury lake retreat like this.”

  “Well, it’s my pleasure,” I tell her, feeling reassured that my house will be in good hands. “If you ask me though, the real hit of the party will be your food.”

  Alexa places a humbled hand to her heart. “Thank you cuz. You know I’ve got mad love for you.”

  “Right back at you,” I tell her, attempting to sound cool but I’m not sure how convincing that’s going.

  A few seconds later, the doorbell rings, announcing the first guest to arrive. I toss an apprehensive glance at Alexa. “Hey, um…do you mind if I take off? I’m just going to be in my room upstairs.”

  “You don’t want to stay and hang out?” Alexa asks but I can tell by the twinkle in her eyes that she’s probably kidding, knowing full well this type of company won’t be my cup of tea.

  “Maybe another time,” I joke and turn around to start trucking my way back up the stairs. I turn around at the last second before Alexa walks to the door to let her friends in. “Hey Alexa?” I call out.

  “Yeah?” She back tracks a few paces and stares up at me.

  “Have fun tonight,” I wink at her and then head up to my room where I’ll be under the safety of four walls to avoid the women downstairs…at all costs.

  The last thing I need is to find one that’s attractive and then it’d be all downhill from there.

  Chapter 8

  Opening the GPS on my phone, I plug in the address that Alexa gave me for the book club and venture off down the dirt road leading out of grandma’s house. I never bother to wash my car, because I’m always driving back and forth, and the roads out here aren’t paved. Most of them are gravel, but a few are dirt. Once I get out to the main highway, it’s smooth sailing and I intend to at least try to have a good time tonight.

  When I get closer to the destination on the GPS navigation, nervous butterflies begin to flutter deep within my belly.

  Alexa didn’t tell me she lived by the lake.

  I guess it’s not a big deal or anything, I just feel a little out of my comfort zone in the richer parts of the sleepy, small town. When I pull up to the neighborhood, I know all about its grandiose reputation of representing quality and the finer things in life, but I’ve never actually been invited inside the gated community walls.

  I know that it’s on the lake, the nicest feature to Mable Falls. I also know that the houses are huge, bordering mansions and that there’s a golf course.

  I pull up to the guard gate and have to wait in line for two other cars to get approval to go inside. Once it’s my turn, I roll down my window and give the security person a sheepish and shy smile.

  “Hello,” I say and clear my throat, leaning my head out the window while the man in uniform peers down at me.

  “Can I help you?” He asks.

  “Um…yes,” I chuckle. “I’m Olivia. Here to see Alexa Sharp? 323 Sycamore Drive?” I declare the address as more of a question than a statement.

  The man checks a clipboard and scratches something off with his pen, which I assume has my name on it. He gives me a polite smile and hands me a car tag. “Place this on your rearview mirror,” he instructs.

  “Thank you,” I retrieve it gratefully and hang the swinging tag from its designated spot.

  The man tips his hat and adjusts his pants by the belt buckle. “Have a good evening ma’am.”

  I slowly drive off, absorbing the astounding beauty of the estates to my left and right. Half of the houses are on the lake side, and all of them are gorgeous, stately manors with huge yards, charming brick exteriors and wrap around porches.

  I take a deep breath and white knuckle the steering wheel because my palms are ridiculously sweaty from my nerves. These are rich people and I’m homeless. I don’t really belong here. I shake my head and try to talk myself down from my jitters. Alexa is a wonderful person. She’s always so bright and cheery like a fresh ball of sunshine. I know her bakery is amazing, but I had no idea she earned this much money from it.

  I would like to get to know her better so that we can perhaps nurture a blossoming friendship. I keep my window open to allow the cool breeze of the evening to wander inside the car and help calm my nerves. She invited me, after all. She must think I’m good enough to hang out with her and her friends.

  I stop the car in front of a long driveway that leads upward, and I can tell it’s on the lake side of the community. I have to park toward the back of the drive, because there are already a substantial number of cars parked here.

  I glance at the watch on my dashboard. It’s a little after six in the evening and I don’t think I’m exceedingly late on my arrival but if I get invited back, I’ll have to make a more solid effort for punctuality.

  Maybe there is a perk to having to park all the way in the back. My crappy Toyota Corolla is a bit of an eyesore, but it does the job of getting me around town, so I guess I shouldn’t complain too much.

  When I get to the top of the driveway, I stop and stare up at the enormous mansion in front of me. It’s so awe inspiring that my jaw hangs out, threatening to unhinge completely. The house has a rustic charm quality to it and aside from the brick, has a cabin feel to it with the huge log porch that helps draw the house out even more. Two grand pillars sit between each side of the porch and a few rocking chairs adorn it in welcome greeting.

  There is a set of double doors leading into the entrance of the home, both of which have beautiful square shaped window features laid into the centers.

  “Wow,” I whisper to myself and push the little yellow button glowing as the doorbell.

  It chimes with as much magnificence as the house itself. I can hear the dull mumble of chatting people inside and the faint and blurry silhouette of a person approaching the door to let me in.

  I’m surprised when I’m not greeted by Alexa, but by an older looking woman who appears to be in her fifties. She’s wearing a blue blouse and black dress pants as if she didn’t have time to change from work and just dove right on over here.

  “Hi,” she greets me with a warm smile and extends a hand to offer me. “Welcome, I’m Missy.”

  “Hi Missy,” I shake her hand in polite greeting and step inside.

  Missy seems friendly and has white blonde hair that’s short. She walks me inside to a beautiful open living room. The focal point is definitely the fireplace in the center, made of huge stone rocks that really pop and make the room appear even bigger than it already is.

  Huge windows are on the back wall that give abundant panoramic views of the lake outside. I spot Alexa in the corner, chatting with some other older females. I’m confused because it appears that everyone is at least twice our age.

  Alexa sees me enter and squeals with delight, opening her arms to swallow me into them.

  “Thank you so much for coming,” she says as I embrace her in a hug. She smells like chocolate and sugar.

  “It’s my pleasure,” I tell her and tuck a strand of blonde straight hair behind my ear. “Thanks for inviting me.”

  Alexa gently tugs my arm and moves me aside to talk privately. “I know you have a f
unny look on your face about the company,” she jokes. “To explain better, this is my mom’s book club.”

  She glances behind her shoulder at the guests and smiles and waves at a few.

  “Oh?” I ask.

  “Yeah,” Alexa nods and pops a piece of cheese into her mouth as we stand by the counter of food. “I took over for her when she passed away a few years ago. I wanted to keep her legacy alive and I think it helps her friends cope with the loss too.”

  A piece of my heart swells with compassion for Alexa in that moment. We have something in common, as terrible as it is, but it makes me feel even closer to her than before.

  “I’m so sorry to hear that,” I offer condolences.

  “Yeah, cancer sucks.” Alexa shrugs.

  “I lost my mom when I was in high school to a lung infection,” I confess, blurting it out.

  Alexa’s eyes fill with compassion. “Motherless daughters in the room unite,” she says and gives me a magical fist bump.

  “Absolutely.” I nod with a smile, then decide to change the subject into something far brighter spirited. “I love your house, it’s beautiful.”

  Alexa gives me a smirk and takes a sip of her merlot. “Girl, I wish this was my place.”

  I glance around in confusion. “Whose house is it then?”

  “My cousin’s house.” She runs a hand through her dark hair. “He let me borrow it for book club tonight.” She smiles, then offers me a baked good.

  I scan the counter and decide on a snickerdoodle cookie. After taking the first bite, it melts in my mouth like a perfect cinnamon cloud.

  “Amazing as usual,” I grin and cover my full mouth.

  “Thanks,” Alexa beams as we walk out to start the book club.

  I pick up my copy of Shadows of Love. It’s worn, weathered, and I’m sure has seen better days, but it was the only copy they had left to borrow at the local library.

  I had to read it in kind of a hurry, but I do my best trying to keep up with the ladies who had more time to get through it in advance.