Chapter 2
INHERITANCE
Ithink I will always replay this first impression, before our words got in the way. The subtleties of the sunlight outside mixed with the darkness held within, creating a flush stillness that doesn’t speak of any expectations. Our gaze at each other? Well, that tells a different story completely.
The man who enters my shop strolls towards me in his crisp button-down shirt and black dress slacks.
His shoulders pull tightly at the shirt fabric, threatening to make it burst at the seams. I wish they would.
His deep brown hair looks as if he tried to hold it back with hair gel, but it doesn’t want to behave.
That makes two of us. Pieces are falling just above his brow line.
And just under those fallen tresses are two very faint scars etched above each eyebrow; slightly raised as if whatever is lurking below his smooth skin is trying its hardest to stay just below the surface.
His skin is a deep rich color, while intricate branch-like designs line his forearms and weave out from under the sleeves of his rolled-up shirt.
I can’t tell if they are tattoos or birthmarks, but they look as if born a part of him.
If this were the day God struck down Lucifer to be banished amongst the mortals, I’d swear it is who I am looking at now.
But maybe that's just wishful thinking, as my perfect idea of love becomes irrevocably blurred with every second my eyes are glued to his.
As he walks closer to the counter, I silently applaud myself for finding my words. See, Jade, you can do hard things.
“Good morning, can I help you with something?” My voice sounds small and weak, and I wonder if it is even attached to my body at all.
Unshed tears still drying on my cheeks over the smashed willow.
The devilish man looks down at me where I still sit on the floor cradling the broken bits of it, and he tilts his head curiously.
“Why yes,” he dares to smirk before he says, “But, I think you’re the one who needs help, Jade.
” His voice is dangerous, wrapped in a mix of silk and arrogance that lingers far too long against my skin.
A perfect introduction that needs to be stopped so I can go back to living in my handcrafted gloomy glass case.
Wait, how does he know my name? I must ask this out loud, because a look of annoyance enters his gaze. I follow the path of his stormy eyes that link to the picture of me hanging on the wall towards the front of the shop, my name marked boldly under it. Oh, of course.
“Let me clarify. I am from a small town in Louisiana on the outskirts of New Orleans. Just here to talk some business.” I’m silent within his pause, waiting for his next words.
“You’ve come into quite an inheritance. A large estate down there, including everything inside it.
” An estate? I try to rack my brain for any relatives my mom may have had, but my mind comes up blank. Surely this must be a mistake.
“Inherited? That makes no sense. I’m sorry. Who is it from?” I ask. Skepticism written all over my face as my eyebrows cinch together to create the deepest furrow lines.
“Your uncle.” An uncle? My mother never mentioned an uncle, or any other family for that matter.
The man must sense my confusion and dips his head so that our eyes meet once again.
He holds my gaze for a time too long, causing fiery warmth to flood my body.
Do I know him? No, definitely not. But there is a familiarity there I can’t deny.
“I work as an estate lawyer. I’ve come all the way to this city to hand-deliver these papers to you on behalf of your uncle's will. And if you don’t mind, I would like to be on my way now,” he explains, saying the word city with a hint of disgust that is clearly visible on his face.
My old glass shield slides back into place—he’s like the rest, after all. But there is something magnetic that keeps me slightly open. Letting his influence find me, hoping to be surprised.
I’m sensing I might actually be in need of a night out after all. Or, quite possibly, the allure of this indifferent man with his attempted combed back hair and ocean deep eyes is actually affecting the girl who swore off thinking of men as anything other than just existing.
Danger, my mind tries to say, but my body says a totally opposite thing. One side of his mouth tips up, as if he were silently reading my thoughts. His mouth opens, and my gaze lingers as his lips part.
“You must be at the house within the next month in order to sign more paperwork.” And with that comment, he turns on his heels.
“I left my number in the folder in case you need me, as well as a map to the estate. It’s nearly impossible to find on others,” he adds, sounding unsure if he wanted to relay that last bit of information.
When he reaches for the doorknob, he hesitates, and if I weren’t staring at him so closely, I might have missed his expression.
A dense emotion sears through him in the shape of a clenched jaw and closed eyes.
But then, he straightens his shoulders, opens the door and leaves.
Meanwhile, I am left standing with my jaw on the floor along with the destroyed pieces of jade at my feet.
I’m starting to question if the encounter even happened by how fast the man came and went from the shop. Dropping a bomb of massive proportions on everything I knew of life at this moment. Could the Twilight Zone actually be a real phenomenon that I can’t seem to snap myself out of?
My body struggles to keep my spine straight with all the emotions freely flowing through my still shaking limbs.
Not only was I unsettled about the hidden ring and devastated that I broke my mother’s most treasured item, but then to add in an inheritance all within the half hour. This is a day for the books.
I look over the papers that were so nonchalantly placed in my hands. Could I really be the owner of a house, in a place I have never been, that was an uncle’s I have never known about? It seems insane, and that is how I feel.
The underlying heat within my core bubbles its way back up to the surface, leaving me wanting to crawl out of my skin.
I’m entirely overwhelmed with the array of sentiment brewing within me, and now more in need of a drink than I think I have ever been before.
It’s no surprise I close the shop early with a clove in my still trembling hand, more than happy to take Lollie up on her offer of a night out.