Poet Read online

  Nausea rolled my stomach as I stepped out from behind the bar. Memories tended to fill my gut with bile instead of butterflies like the rest of the world. Starlee was late, and I had to hurry home to shower. I couldn’t show up for my interview in a halter-spaghetti-strap tank-top and booty shorts. Even if Kelly was my friend, she’d most likely throw me out on my ass.

  “Jaime,” I hollered over the music as I threw the rag onto the bar top behind me.

  He was talking to one of the dancers, Sochi, by the stage, but stopped his conversation and made his way to where I was standing.

  “I have to leave. Starlee’s late again. You know I love her but—”

  “But you have your priorities. Yeah, I know. This place is a ghost town. Sochi can grab drinks until Starlee gets here.”

  Sochi was rail thin, with fake tits and bleach-blonde hair. The guys loved that shit, and it helped she was our best dancer. Tending bar though, I was sure Starlee would get an earful from her once she showed up.

  “What’s her deal anyway? She’s been late a lot.”

  Jaime avoided my eyes and pushed his hands into his pockets. “You know, life shit.”

  “She using again?” I knew it. The signs were there. She preferred meth, and that stuff ate your beauty like a fly did shit. She was wasting away and he was letting her.

  “What am I supposed to do?” He shrugged his shoulders.

  “Do like you did for me. Pull her ass in here, lock her in the back room if you have to. She’s going to die doing that stuff.”

  “Sweetheart, you’re one to talk. I gave you a job, a roof over your head, and for two years you snuck behind my back. Taking pills, shooting up. I know you had to get high to dance, it’s why after your OD I pulled you, made you tend bar instead. To be honest, I don’t know why the hell you still work here.”

  Whenever I had the opportunity, I tested myself. Five years, tending bar, one foot in my old life, one foot in my future. If I could handle it, I knew I would make it and maybe I’d become the fighter I’d always wanted to be.

  “I need the money, but I got a job interview, a good place. Who knows?” My lips spread into a smile and I lifted my left brow. “I might actually quit you.”

  Jaime’s face split into an eye-popping grin. “I can only hope. You were always too good for this place, Mel…too fucking good.”

  “Thanks for that.” I playfully slapped his shoulder and, before I turned around, I said, “Get her off the meth, Jaime. If you need my help, you know my number.”

  He nodded and his smile disappeared as I turned toward the back exit.

  It was October and somehow beads of sweat collected on my forehead as I walked into The Irene O’Connell House. The place hadn’t officially opened yet, but it was swarming with people, most of whom were construction workers, painters, and from what I could see, everything was pulling together nicely. A small smile lifted the corners of my lips as I walked past the front desk. The first floor was still wide open, and all the chatter from the workers, the beats of their hammers, echoed off the high ceilings.

  “Hey, you look lost.” Kelly’s familiar voice rose above the chaos as she yelled from the top of her ladder.

  A laugh stretched my smile as I watched her carefully scale her way down in tight yoga pants and a black, paint-stained Avenues Ink t-shirt.

  “I would have dressed down if I knew the interview was business casual,” I teased as I waved my hand up and then down, mocking her attire.

  Her chocolate hair was up in a messy bun, and she had streaks of white across her forehead. I suddenly stopped worrying about my own sweaty forehead. I’d worried for nothing. Kelly was a down-to-Earth chick. I hadn’t known her very long, but she’d always been kind. I guess mistrusting myself and others was a habit I’d have to learn to quit as well.

  “You look good.” She leaned down and dropped the paintbrush into a small bucket of paint that sat on the floor. “Follow me, the second floor is a work in progress, but the third floor offices are the only thing we haven’t had to gut… for now.” Kelly’s smirk lit her brown eyes as they met mine. “No elevator, so I hope you don’t mind doing three flights in those heels.”

  “Not a problem,” I assured her.

  I was wearing a black pencil skirt, a long sleeve, white button-up blouse, and black heels to match. I might have a tarnished past, but I cleaned up nicely when I wanted. At the foot of the stairs, I removed my heels and let them dangle from my fingers, earning a genuine laugh from Kelly.

  The third floor was as she explained. Most of the old offices from the previous owners sat vacant. We walked by a few doors, turned left down a small hall, and then right, through the door that led into her office. The room was huge and mostly empty, except for a big cherry wood desk, a few chairs, and a file cabinet. The back wall was all glass and, even though the other buildings hovered over this one, you could still look out onto the snowcapped mountain range of the Wasatch Front.

  “This is so amazing. Shit, Kelly, you should be so proud.” I took a seat in one of the chairs as I admired the view.

  “I couldn’t have done it without Liam and his brothers. They’ve helped so much. Who knew Liam had so many connections?” She smiled as she took her seat on the other side of the desk, and I slipped on my heels.

  “He’s been at the shop a long time, though, right? He gets to know people,” I offered and she nodded.

  “I know, but he never ceases to amaze me.” A blush filled her cheeks, and I almost giggled.

  “Still riding the newlywed high, Mrs. O’Connell?”

  She huffed out a laugh. “Maybe.”

  “Didn’t you tell me you were going to hook me up with one of his brothers once?” I was joking, of course, but her eyes sparkled with ideas as she leaned forward in her chair.

  “Well… Liam and I are hosting a small Halloween party at our place, and I wanted to invite you. Kieran is still single, and I think you guys might—”

  A nervous laughed escaped my lips. “I’m kidding, Kelly. I don’t have time right now to date. Two jobs, plus volunteering at Lifeline, equals no life.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Mel, you know you have the job here. This isn’t a real interview. You can work here… full-time. See, no more need for two jobs. I’m only hiring a few people, the rest is strictly volunteer, but you worked so well with the ladies over at Lifeline, and I could use your experience.”

  I took a deep breath. If I could quit The Western…

  “What would you have me doing, exactly?”

  “Well, phase one, the temporary shelter, will be opening in December. I’ll need you to help train the volunteers, help make food, clean toilets. It won’t be glamorous, but you’d be making good money, and you’d help give women and their children a safe place to sleep. It’s going to be hard work, but I’ll be right beside you, washing sheets, and folding towels. And hopefully, after the last two phases open and counseling services are available, we’ll be able to hire more people, and then…” She smiled and it gave me hope. “Sky’s the limit. Back in the trenches for now, but once we’re up and running, if you stay, if you like it, who knows what opportunities could come your way.”

  She didn’t know my past. She was offering me more than I deserved, but I admired her drive, her ambition. She’d almost died in a car wreck earlier this year. She got beat up pretty bad, scarred her face, and lost her modeling career, but she persevered, bought this rundown building, and wanted to do something good with it.

  “I’d love to work here.”

  Her lips split into a smile that reached her eyes. “Really?”

  I nodded. “I think what you’re doing is amazing, and I want to be a part of it even if it’s only cleaning shit out of a toilet.”

  We both laughed, and as she stood from her chair, I did, as well. “Should I give you the grand tour?”

  “Of course.” My brows dipped and my tone suggested she was stupid to even ask.

  “I missed your attitude. You don’t t
ext me enough.”

  “My life is… very… complicated.” It was the first time I’d ever really given her a clue about my life.

  “I gathered as much. I’m still holding you to that girls’ night you promised me back when I was working at Lifeline. I’ll get you to spill all your secrets. It’s only fair, you know all of mine.”

  “Somehow I doubt that,” I said as we made our way back to the stairs. “I like the name you chose for the shelter. Liam’s mom, right?”

  Her smile dimmed enough that I noticed. “After she died, I wanted to honor her. She was a savior to me, and now she can be a savior to others.”

  “Shit, does Liam even deserve you?” I paused at the top of the stairs, and my lips twitched as they fought a smile.

  “We deserve each other.” She nudged me with her shoulder. “Halloween, no excuses. My place. Nine-thirty, I’ll make sure little brother is there.”

  Why the hell not? If Liam’s brother looked anything like him, at least I’d have some eye candy for the night. I wasn’t on the market. Dating after Chance died seven years ago, the tailspin I’d fallen into…I wasn’t ready to get attached. Attached meant I had to depend on another person, that my happiness was linked to theirs, and when you’re a recovering drug addict, attached was a fucking grenade.

  “Nine-thirty.”

  “Costumes are optional,” she said, but raised her eyebrows. “But Kieran is… well, you’ll see, maybe come as a sexy nun.” Her smile felt like a private joke.

  “Nah, maybe a sexy maid, since that’s basically what you just hired me for?”

  Kelly’s laugh seemed to boom inside the stairwell as we walked down to the second floor.

  “Honestly, I think to catch his eye, sexy is the last thing you want to be.”

  Okay?

  “Do you want to explain that, please?”

  “Nope.” Her smirk was too cute and, if she hadn’t just given me an out from The Western, I might’ve hated her a little for it.

  “Fine,” I barked with my usual sass and passed her on the stairs. “Maybe I’ll come as a stripper.”

  Kelly’s head fell back as she laughed a little too hard. “Oh, God, no, don’t do that, you’ll send him running to the hills.”

  My smile stayed perfectly in place but my stomach was twisted in knots as I smoothly said, “Stripper it is.”

  This was why I didn’t get close to people, to men, in particular. I was who I was. I couldn’t change the things I’d done, and I knew I’d never be good enough for a guy like Liam, or his brother. I might appear on the outside fresh and new and bright, but it was a lie. I was rusted from the inside out, and if they looked close enough, they’d see straight through the shitty rebuild all the way to the ugly, weathered shell.

  “And the skin stretched over her bones, becomes my new religion.”

  Hayley Stumbo~

  The solemn words of the Lord’s Prayer lifted and echoed throughout the room. Our voices hovered high in the domed ceiling as we all stood and spoke in unison. Sunday Mass seemed to be the only time I felt at peace with myself anymore. Liam had always been the leader, Declan the center, and I… I’d never really fit. I’d become the “someone” everyone could turn to. But I didn’t have real answers, just comforting, pretty words.

  I was the quiet, helpful, sweet kid, and everyone was moving forward while I was stuck in limbo. Social purgatory. Still figuring out where my puzzle pieces fit. Did I stay at Avenues? Go back to school? Start a family? Twenty-seven was looking pretty damn scary. Right or wrong. Me or them. Which way was my course. I’d always believed in myself, believed in the strict structure I’d created for my life. Family, prayer, work… simple things, and I should be happy.

  I was happy.

  But I was also alone.

  If Liam could hear my internal thoughts he’d call me a whiny asshole, and he’d be right. I was already tired of myself this morning…and it was only ten.

  Father Becker’s deep voice called my attention. “The peace of the Lord be with you always.”

  “And with your spirit,” I said in sync with everyone else.

  Father Becker continued, “Let us offer each other the sign of peace.”

  I turned to my right and took Mrs. Detwiler’s hand as she said, “Peace be with you.”

  I nodded and returned the sentiment. I turned to my left and repeated the handshake with Becky Mills, and then again with Mr. Kirk who’d sat in the pew just in front of me. When I turned to the row behind me, a woman I’d never seen before held out her hand. My mouth went dry as her soft hand slid into mine. Depthless brown, almost black eyes, watched me under thick, dark lashes. I swallowed as my heartbeat went from a leisurely walk in the park to a flat-out sprint.

  “Peace be with you,” she whispered in a smooth, honeyed tone, and her full lips curved up on the right side.

  Her dark, inky black hair fell in waves over her shoulders and stood out against the crisp, white button-down blouse she had on. She was poured into a gray skirt that showed every blessed curve, and if I hadn’t been in the middle of Mass, I would’ve let my eyes linger along the smooth lines of her petite body. A sweet as hell dimple popped in her right cheek, and I suddenly forgot what I was supposed to do.

  She released her hold on my hand, her brows dipping in confusion as her eyes searched mine. My hand hung in the air for a split-second longer than I should’ve allowed. I was taking pleasure in the warmth her touch had left behind, and the odd burn as her heat finally dissipated. It was as if a shock had been delivered to the skin of my palm. She cleared her throat, her smile taking on a nervous edge, and I realized that Father Becker had begun to speak again. As I turned around, I couldn’t help the stupid grin that formed on my face. She was alone. No man at her side and, as everyone prepared for communion, I was thinking of how I could introduce myself.

  I was going to hell.

  I was still stuck in my head once it was time for me to stand for communion and, as I turned to exit the pew, I tried to keep my eyes straight ahead, but they fell to her anyway. She was kneeling, with her head down, waiting for her turn to stand. Her hair was hanging over one shoulder, and I might’ve let my eyes linger on the line of her neck like a creeper.

  It wasn’t long before I was back to my seat after I’d walked up to the alter and received communion. My knees pressed into the worn cushion of the pew, and the smell of Mrs. Detwiler’s perfume permeated the air as I took a deep breath, bowed my head, made the sign of the cross, and prayed. The flavorless wafer dissolved on my tongue, and while I should’ve been asking God to forgive my sins, all I could think about was her. The girl who had been sitting behind me with tan skin and dark eyes. The touch that had sent me reeling, made my stomach flip in a free fall. I lifted my eyes, just for a moment, and caught her staring at me as she walked back to her seat after she’d received her communion. Her head was tilted down, but those bottomless eyes found mine. I swallowed and she looked away, lowering her head more as she passed my row. I needed to pull my head out of my ass. One look and I’m hooked? I’d blame my lack of… lack of everything involved with the softer sex, in general.

  By the time everyone had received communion and Father Becker wrapped up and ended Mass, I was almost coming out of my skin. I was warring with myself as always. Feeling guilt for not being fully present during communion, for having my mind on things less spiritual and more sexual, but also feeling excited, nervous, and for once, interested. She was at church, and was not some drunk bar chick. Most of the people, women whom I’d attended church with, were either married or nearly dead, so she was like the Holy Grail.

  Mass was over, and when I finally got the chance to look at her again, she was gone. I flicked my gaze to the herd of people and spotted her in the crowd. She was heading to the front doors, and I’d be damned if I didn’t get her name. A blue light blinked in my peripheral vision, and I turned to look at it. A white cell phone had been left behind on the pew exactly where she had been sitting.


  Maybe God was listening…

  I offered him silent gratitude as I leaned over, grabbed the phone, and made my way through the crowd. A few people I recognized nodded their heads as I squeezed by them, and damn it, Mrs. Bradley was right in front of me. That woman. Ever since my mother passed, you’d have thought it was her sworn duty to nag me every Sunday. I inched past her and gripped the white cell phone tightly in my hand as I overheard her gossiping to Mr. Kirk. I made eye contact with him, and I might’ve smiled at the vacant look in his eyes and my good fortune that the old bat had his attention today and not mine.

  The crowd finally thinned as they spilled through the cathedral doors, but as I scanned the sidewalk, I didn’t see her. Hope crashed and burned inside my stomach, and I expelled a long sigh I didn’t realize I had been holding. It wasn’t until the cool fall air filtered past my lips that I realized I was out of breath and out of options.

  She was gone.

  I looked down at the phone in my hand and swiped my thumb along the glass screen. Locked, and it needed some secret password I didn’t know to open it. Maybe it wasn’t even her phone. Maybe it was the young kid’s who had been sitting next to her with his mom.