Chapter 6
Chapter Six
SASHA
After getting familiar with my new job, I hightail it out of there at one p.m. Between inhaling the sheriff’s cologne and everyone walking on eggshells because of him, I’ve gotten pretty upset.
I can’t wait to show Gavin how good I am at my job.
He’ll eat crow. I smile as I envision a wolf eating a crow.
I know, maybe I’ve gone a little too far.
But Gavin and his grumpy mood need to go away.
I park outside a cute little boutique. Before exiting the car, I ditch my red stilettos in the back seat and push my feet into a pair of silver slides. I’ll observe who’s who while shopping.
Entering one store after another, I browse and purchase items I like.
I meet a few shop owners. Something tells me I’ll get a better peek into the town on Saturday.
There will be more tourists. I’d be able to ask questions without worrying about conversations becoming heated.
It appears these shop owners value their small businesses.
With a few shopping bags in tow, I become entranced by the items on display in a window. Tarot cards and crystal balls. I had a crystal ball when I was little. Tara and I would dress up and pretend to see our parents’ future in it. I always wanted to buy Tarot cards.
I open the door to Enchanted Visions. The bell rings overhead.
A few customers mill about. I take in all the cute, quirky items — love potions, voodoo dolls.
I pick up the voodoo doll kit. I should make a wolf shifter voodoo doll.
That way anytime the sheriff says something mean, I’d poke his voodoo doll with a pin and watch him roar out in pain.
Would the voodoo doll make him shift in front of me?
“How may I help you, dear?” a woman asks to my left.
My eyes move over the older woman’s silver hair and smooth gingerbread skin. She’s probably about five-seven. She wears a long, flowy red dress that gives her skin a youthful glow.
“I’ll probably take the Tarot cards. As much as I want the voodoo doll, I think I’ll pass.”
She chuckles and the laugh lines around her gray eyes crinkle.
“Voodoo is very powerful magic.”
It’s my turn to laugh. “It’s not real though. Well, not outside New Orleans.”
“Magic is very real.”
“My name’s Gloria,” she says, stretching her hand out.
I place my hand in hers. “I’m— “
“Sasha Walker,” she finishes.
My eyes widen as a powerful surge of energy shoots through my body.
What the fuck?
I release her hand. “Nice trick. You’ll have to teach me that.”
Gloria just smiles.
“I keep forgetting this town is so small. Everyone probably heard about my arrest. The sheriff was just being an asshole. We’ve. We’re—” I can’t get my words straight.
I don’t know where the sheriff and I stand. He seems to hate me more than ever. As long as he stays out of my way, I’ll stay out of his. All I want to do is find out who fucked me over.
“I work at the Morgan County Sheriff’s Department temporarily as the secretary.”
“Temporary, right.”
She’s giving off weird vibes.
Holding the Tarot cards, I point to the register. “I’d like to pay for these, please.”
“Sure.”
I follow her to the register.
“Why are you hiding your scent?” she asks.
I glance around the store to see if anyone heard her.
“I have my reasons. Please don’t tell anyone.”
She scans the barcode on the back of the cards. “You can’t hide from your fated mate forever.”
My heart plummets to my feet. “Fated mate?”
“Where I’m from, many settle for mates that make them happy. There are fated mates too, but not many.”
The price flashes on the screen and I stick my debit card in the reader.
“When you’re ready to learn more about who you are, come see me,” she says as she places the cards in a bag.
“I know who I am,” I tell her in a polite tone.
“No rush, sweet girl.”
I smile and take the bag off the counter.
“Tell Sheriff Drake, Ms. Gloria says hello.”
“I will.”
As I walk toward the door, I keep looking back at the woman like she’ll disappear.
When you’re ready to know who you are, come see me.
I ponder on her statement as I climb into my car.
Is this town full of magic? Gavin is a wolf shifter. I’ve never seen a shifter shift before. Not that Gavin shifted — but he showed me a little bit of his wolf. There aren’t any shifters in my town. Not that I know of.
I spend the rest of the day settling into the camper. Evan lives in a remote area. There aren’t many campers around. If something happened to me, who would know I was here, other than Gavin, Fitch, and Evan? It’s time to call my best friend.
The camper is fairly new and quaint. You can tell it belongs to a guy — a couple of muted colors, and I mean, really, what’s with the brown and green throw pillows?
Tomorrow I’ll buy several colorful throw pillows just to make me feel at home.
I bought a comforter set. No disrespect, I had no idea how many women Evan had between the sheets.
There are brown cabinets throughout, a microwave, a fridge, and a nice flat-top stove.
The dinette table backs up to a comfy, cushioned bench.
A stacked washer and dryer sit next to the compact bathroom with a shower.
At the front of the camper is a brown U-shaped sofa and two leather recliners.
A net and three footballs are stored over the sofa.
Maybe when he’s trying to think up lyrics, he tosses the football into the net.
Nice space for entertaining. There’s a roof hatch too.
I can sunbathe if I’m brave enough to take on the sun during this brutal summer.
I put the phone on speaker while I clean.
The phone rings twice.
“Hey girl, how’s it going in small-town USA, population five thousand?” Genevieve chuckles.
I burst into laughter.
My best friend Genevieve — Eve or Evie for short — and I have known each other since middle school. She moved to Charleston from Atlanta. We’ve been thick as thieves ever since.
“Girl, let me give you the rundown.”
Genevieve gasps. “I can’t believe all these horrible things are happening to you. First the stolen painting, then having to close the gallery.”
My heart sinks at the mention of my gallery closing. These bastards have ruined my reputation.
She continues. “You go to the small town for answers only to get into a fight with the locals and get thrown in jail by some asshole sheriff.”
“That about sums up my life. And to top it all off, I’ve decided to work for that asshole sheriff. The man could win an award for the grumpiest sheriff. He doesn’t have a stick up his ass. He has a branch.”
We both laugh.
“Evie, if he didn’t need a secretary, he would’ve made sure I left town.”
“Wait, I think I misheard you. What?”
“I took a temporary job as secretary at the Morgan County Sheriff's Department. I need to find out who ruined my life. This is the best way. Sheriff Drake is aware of what I’m up to. Girl, get this. The man is such an asshole; he refuses to call me by my first name. He calls me Walker.”
I scrub the cleaning chemicals into the counter harder as I remember how he looked at me as I sat across from him at his desk.
“During the interview, he looked at me like he wanted to kill me and put me through the mattress at the same time. Is that possible?”
“Let me look this man up,” she says. “Sasha, girl, he’s gorgeous.”
“His grumpy demeanor ruins his looks. I bet he can’t wait to bark orders at me tomorrow.”
“Does he know you’re an omega?”
I sigh. “Yes. On the application, I left the space blank where it asked if I was a beta or an omega. The asshole used his alpha bark ordering me out of his office. I was forced to call him Alpha Gavin.”
“There’s definitely some sexual tension here.”
“I don’t want to have sex with him, but I’d do it to help this town, because whoever he’s fucking ain’t fucking him right. Not with the huge chip on his shoulder. I’d at least have him so fucked up in the head he’d walk around with a half-smile.”
We laugh again.
“Down, girl. Keep your mojo locked up. You had Carson sniffing behind you like a lost puppy.”
I stop scrubbing and squeeze my eyes shut briefly.
Sasha, you’re my everything, baby. I can’t see life without you.
"Until he fucked Carla, my fucking assistant, behind my back," I grit out. "It meant nothing, baby." I repeat his words.
"I told you she had a crush on him," Evie adds.
"Carson is a narcissist. If I wasn't stroking his ego every two minutes, he'd find someone who would. I bet she strokes his ego and dick all the time."
"One day you'll find your mate,” she says.
"Do you believe in scent matches and fated mates?” I asks.
"In the fiction sense. I mean, there are people in our town who are fated mates, but it's so rare. If I wasn't married to my work, maybe I'd let a guy into my heart."
"Your paintings are absolutely gorgeous. And once I clear my name, I'll get back to work on selling yours,” I tell her.
"You've got a customer for life, bestie."
I smile. "Thanks, bestie."
"Why did you ask about scent matches and fated mates?” Evie questions.
“I was at a psychic store earlier, and the woman — Gloria — told me I can't hide from my fated mate. She said it like she knows something I don't."
"Wow. Do you think your fated mate is in Lupton?"
"If he is, that's too bad, because I'm returning to Charleston."
The phone rings on FaceTime. I remove a rubber glove and tap the button, and my best friend's beautiful mocha face comes into view.
"You're hiding something. Sasha, I'll give you a little time to work it out, then I'm coming there."
"You sound like Tara."
"We're worried about you." Her smile rises and falls. "You've got two weeks. Then I'm coming to Lupton."
My eyes well with tears. "Thank you."
"Love you, girl."
"Love you too, Evie."
I end the call.
I return to my most recent search on my phone about scent matches and fated mates.
My eyes move over the words describing how a fated mate's scent makes you feel — it brings you comfort, makes you want to burrow into that person.
I wonder if I can work in the garage with Fitch.
That way I can avoid smelling the sheriff.
Forest floor, chocolate, and toasted sugar.
My mouth literally waters at the thought of his scent.
Then there it is again. Lavender fills the air.
I run over to my purse and grab the bottle of scent suppressants.
I pop two in my mouth and wash them down with a bottle of water.
I didn't use scent suppressants when I was with Carson.
He loved my scent. After he broke my heart, I went on scent suppressants.
I don't want a mate. Even if the sheriff is my fated mate.
I shake my head in an effort to think clearly.
The sheriff is right. We should stick to calling each other by our last names.
If I keep thinking about him and what his knot would feel like locked inside me, I'll end up in heat and have to find a heat camp.
Calling each other by our last names will work out fine. That will definitely keep my scent suppressants from failing at a rapid rate.