Chapter 5
Chapter Five
EDEN
My cell phone buzzed from inside my purse as I pushed my cart along the aisle of the market during my weekly grocery shop. Grabbing a box of pasta, I tossed it into the cart before digging through my cavernous handbag in search of my phone.
Once I had it in hand, I grinned down at Nona’s name on the screen and swiped to answer the call. “Hey there.”
“Hey right back,” she replied. “What are you up to?”
Adding a jar of spaghetti sauce to my cart, I replied, “It’s Thursday night. What do you think I’m doing?”
Her light laughter came through the line before she replied, “So you’re at the market.”
“Bingo,” I said with a grin. “You need anything while I’m here?”
“Nah, all good here, but thanks for asking. I was actually calling to see if you have plans for tomorrow night.”
I did. My plans consisted of what they did every night: binge whatever caught my attention on Netflix until I fell asleep on my couch, then wake up, drag my ass to bed, and go back to sleep—all alone.
It was pathetic, so instead of filling her in on any of that, I responded, “Nope. Nothing planned. What’s up? ”
“Well now you have plans. The kiddos are with their dad this weekend, and The Tap Room has live music the first Friday of every month. Just town folks who like to fiddle around in their free time, but it’s usually pretty good. Mama needs a night out, and I’m dragging you along with me.”
Usually I tried to avoid scenes like that.
Growing up with two alcoholic parents and an older brother who started imbibing at an early age turned me off bars and booze.
But I was a new Eden, and this was a new life I’d made all on my own.
And if my new friend wanted me to go out with her, then I was definitely down for that. “Sounds great. Count me in.”
She let out an excited noise. “Awesome! I’ll swing by your place about seven tomorrow.”
“It’s a date.”
We hung up shortly after, and I found I was actually excited at the idea of going out with Nona the following night. I was taking baby steps each day to move outside my comfort zone, and so far each one had paid off.
Turning my cart to the frozen food section, I headed to the case that had that thick, premade garlic bread I liked so much and grabbed a box.
It had been a struggle, but I managed to bypass the snack cake aisle completely.
The garlic bread was the last thing on my list, so now all I had to do was hightail it to the register and I’d be in the clear.
I figured a week without Little Debbie as my partner in crime was as good a way to start my weight loss journey as any. I was taking baby steps, after all.
When I rounded the corner toward the checkout, I slowed at the sound of a woman’s raised voice coming from the only register still open at that time of evening in a small town.
As I got closer, I saw a stunning woman with long dark hair dressed in what I could only describe as mountain chic—skinny jeans, a flannel tied around her waist for fashion purposes, not to ward off the chill, a skintight red sweater, and designer hiking boots that no woman in her right mind would ever hike in—railing at the poor girl behind the register.
“Oh my god! Don’t you know the first thing about bagging groceries? Cans go on the bottom, duh. You just smashed my bread.”
“I didn’t smash the bread,” the blonde working the register replied, her face pulled tight like she was struggling not to go off on the mountain model in front of her. “I slid the can to the bottom, so your bread’s perfectly fine.”
“So you’re calling me an idiot?” the woman continued, slamming her hand on her cocked hip as she tossed her hair and glared daggers in the checker’s direction. “I know what I saw. Maybe you should just stick to strippin’, honey. Obviously this line of work’s way over your head.”
I wasn’t sure what came over me just then, but something inside me snapped, and my embarrassment on the cashier’s behalf just wouldn’t allow me to keep silent.
“Excuse me,” I said, drawing their attention but keeping my eyes trained on the brunette. “Sorry for interrupting, but did you actually look in the bag to see if the bread was smooshed?”
The woman sneered at me. “Who the hell are you?”
I’d already started it, so I figured I might as well take it as far as it could go.
Squaring my shoulders, I looked the woman right in her chilly blue eyes and showed not one ounce of uncertainty.
I’d known my fair share of judgmental bitches in my life, and this chick was just like all the rest of them.
She used her looks and attitude to cow those around her for no other reason than she felt it was her right simply because she was beautiful.
“I’m no one. But you’re being really rude—”
“Well, no one, seein’ as you butted into this conversation without anyone askin’ your opinion, it’s not really any of your damn business if I looked or not, now is it?”
I opened my mouth to shoot back something just as snarky when another voice spoke up. “Is there a problem here?”
All eyes turned to the pimply faced guy who looked no older than twenty, tops. I glanced down to the tag on his burgundy store vest to see it read Manager.
“Actually, yeah,” I replied before Mountain Model could speak. “This woman here is harassing your employee.”
“I wasn’t harassing anybody!” the woman yelped in return. “Your employee doesn’t know how to bag groceries without ruining the items your customers just paid for. She put a can on top of my bread, and now it’s ruined.”
The kid’s frightened gaze darted between all three of us before he replied, stumbling over his words in a weak voice. “Uh, well… um… did you, that is have you actually, you know, inspected the bread to see if it’s damaged?”
She hadn’t, and the pinched look on her normally pretty face was answer enough.
“Whatever,” she grumbled, stomping over to the paper bag sitting at the end of the register.
“I don’t have time to deal with this shit.
I have better things to do. But you can bet your ass I’ll never shop here again, and when I get done tellin’ everyone in town how horrible this place is, no one else will either. ”
With that, she snatched up the bag and stormed out of the store, the sway of her hips exaggerated so much that I knew this woman used her looks to get everything she wanted to the point that she’d turned into an entitled asshole.
“Well then,” the barely postpubescent store manager declared with a clap of his hands, “now that that’s been handled, I’ll be in my office.” Then he bailed, leaving me and the checkout girl alone.
“Thanks,” the woman said as I started unloading my items onto the conveyer belt. “You probably shouldn’t have gone head-to-head with Harley Madison, but I appreciate it nonetheless.”
I shrugged and stepped up to the counter as she began ringing everything up and bagging the groceries—in the correct order, I might add.
“No problem. I’ve known a thousand Harley Madisons in my lifetime, and I’ve discovered most of them are only as powerful as the people around them allow them to be. ”
Her snort was accompanied by the constant beep of each scanned item. “You’re new in town, aren’t you?”
My forehead wrinkled in confusion. “Uh, yeah. Why do you ask?”
She met my gaze, and for the first time I noticed just how pretty she was.
Honestly, with her unique golden eyes and shiny corn silk–colored hair, she was just as attractive, if not more so, than the woman who’d just stomped out of the store.
But there was a hardness in her expression that detracted from it ever so slightly.
Her eyes, as attractive as they were, held a story of a tough life that I recognized from years and years of seeing the same damn thing every time I looked in the mirror.
“Figured you’d have to be new here not to know the Madisons pretty much own Hope Valley. Harley comes by her bitchiness honestly. Her parents spoiled her rotten starting the day she came into this world and haven’t stopped yet. And they’re just as nasty as she is.”
My top lip curled in disgust at the thought that there was more than just one vile creature strutting around my beautiful town. “Yeah, well whatever. I stand by my actions. I have an incredibly low tolerance for nasty people. And to imply you should be a stripper was just plain rude.”
“Wasn’t an implication,” she muttered. “I am a stripper.”
My eyes widened and I jerked my chin back in surprise. “Oh. I… sorry. I didn’t know.”
With the last of my groceries scanned and bagged, she looked back up at me, humor dancing in her gaze. “Didn’t suspect you would. It’s not a big deal. I’m not ashamed of it or anything. Gotta do what you gotta do to keep a roof over your head, right?”
I grinned and gave her a nod. “Absolutely. I’m Eden, by the way.”
The woman smiled at me and a bit of that hardness melted away, making her even more beautiful. “Gypsy. Nice to meet you.”
Pulling my debit card from my wallet, I handed it over so she could finish ringing me up. “Nice to meet you too.”
As she swiped my card, I took the time to study her.
She looked to be in her early to midtwenties, and even in the hideous store uniform of burgundy vest, baby blue polo, and khakis, it was obvious her figure was outstanding.
Long legs, tiny waist, with an abundance of hips and boobs, a body like hers would do well on a stage.
“And just to say, not that it’s my place, but if I had a body like yours, I’d probably take up stripping for the simple fact that I’d want to flaunt it in front of the world.
Especially if it meant I got to rub it in the faces of bitches like Harley Madison. ”
Gypsy’s head shot up, her eyes full of shock before she burst into laughter.
“You know what?” she said a few seconds later, the laughter tapering off into giggles. “We need to exchange numbers before you leave. I think I’m pretty damn glad you moved to Hope Valley, Eden.”
I really was too. And if my run-in with the despicable Harley Madison meant I’d gotten another potential friend out of the deal, I couldn’t bring myself to regret it.