Aftermath Book Two Crash Series

Chapter Forty-Six

Aria

        “Happy Thanksgiving!” The wind chime above the door gleams and glitters as the colorful pieces of sea glass spin through the streaming sunlight, chiming with a beautiful tinkle that’s fast becoming a comfort.

        As the door closes behind my last customer I sigh and smile before I reach out and flick the lock on the door. These first few days have been a wonderful adventure. From the moment I open the doors in the morning, the chime rarely stops as friends from the soup kitchen wander in and even a couple of new faces, which warms my heart.

            Everyone has been so grateful and surprisingly they’ve even come during lunchtime when I’m opened for normal business hours. It makes me happy to see, knowing I’m giving them warm meals and drinks during the cold months and hard times, even that they are comfortable enough to come on in knowing they have a safe place here.

            Not only am I able to help a lot of people I’m also generating a ton of gossip and publicity when it comes to the homeless and hungry problem we’re really facing but generally ignore or misrepresent. I’ve even started a collection jar yesterday after a few customers continued to ask that I do so. They want to help in any way they can, which is amazing, I love that I’m inspiring others and shedding knowledge on a tough but necessary subject.

            It also inspired an idea I can’t wait to discuss with Paul and Mason for the charity.

        I didn’t want my vendors there right away on Sunday for the grand opening, but they did come in the early afternoon which turned out to be an amazing networking opportunity for everyone. Patti with her artwork. Frankie with her Jewelry. Dylan with his poetry. And Janice with her tarot cards.

            The customers ate it all up and I already wanted to do themed event nights but instead of hosting all of them for profit I want some to be for charity. Seriously how cool would it be to have anyone from the shelter that’s interested come in for the event, if it’s an event with Patti or Frankie they could make their own pieces we could then auction off to the highest bidder, the proceeds could go directly to the participants in that event.

            They’d have fun participating while also being proud of what they made and the money they can generate from it. Maybe it would open some of their eyes to a new hobby they’ll enjoy or at least give them a little while to be creative and have fun with a meal and drinks provided of course.

            I would prefer to pile all the proceeds for each event together and split it evenly amongst the participants to encourage corporation, taking the competition out of it. The more ways I can find to encourage teamwork and community I’ll take.

            Dylan could host poetry nights. We could charge at the door for entry and have a basket raffle during intermission. Anyone that wants to read a poem would be more than welcome, Dylan seemed sweet enough I might even be able to talk him into hosting some poetry workshops for anyone to join. I wouldn’t mind covering the cost if it got people off the streets and interested.

            A workshop or two might give them enough confidence to join the next poetry night. How amazing would that in itself be to some of these people, to have a chance to talk and be heard? To spread their story and awareness to the cause they’d be themselves supporting.

            I might be getting a little ahead of myself but I can’t help it the things i thought were only just a dream are happening to me each and every day. But the best part... I feel my grandma shining down on me every day I walk through those doors and smell her recipes. And each moment I hear someone new moan after biting into a lovely treat. I did it.

            I did it.

            Pride swells in my belly, pride for myself and it takes my breath away.

            I’m exhausted from running on nothing but fumes and the little incident with Miss. Kendrick yesterday didn’t help any, but I gotta say I’ve never loved being exhausted as I do right now. Oh, how I love it.

            Absentmindedly I rub my thumb on my life jacket charm while I make my way to the kitchen, my smile only growing bigger as my thoughts grow alongside them. I didn’t just survive the opening or the days after. I didn’t just barely get all the orders for today made to perfection and out the door on time. No, I thrived.

            Now I get to take half a daybreak and celebrate with an amazing man on our first holiday together. Sometimes I’m so focused on all the bad that seems to follow me around I forget to see all the good. But right now I can’t help but see anything but, and oh how magical that is.

***

            We have the whole house to ourselves.

            Scratch that. Let me correct myself, Mason and I have this whole freaking mansion all to ourselves. Not even a bodyguard is lurking in the shadows or some far-off room.

            I can walk around butt-ass naked without worrying about an extremely awkward Ray encounter. Or I could have Mason take me in the kitchen pressed against the fridge with no worries about being interrupted or caught. Honestly, I didn’t really think about all of this when I made Mason give everyone off for the day.

            Of course, they all insisted I was still guarded from the second I left the house today until I stepped back in, so I was. But as soon as I pulled up Aiden and John were on their way home, like everyone else they were spending the holiday with their loved ones as they should. There’s no where else anyone should be tonight especially when we're doing nothing but sitting at home in a super-secure building that has panic rooms with a skilled fighter like Mason here the whole time.

              I did want to go to the Soup kitchen where I know Mason and I both would come in handy but we both agreed that would only be unfair for the guys that'd have to follow us there. I'm also excited to have a semi-relaxing day as much as I love being as busy as I have been I'll always need some downtime, especially when it involves Mase. 

            We're going to be just fine by ourselves for the night, better than fine now that I fully realize the potential we have.

            Well, I guess Mason realized first if I had to guess by the path of elegantly lit candles, petals, and vases of flowers lining the way in front of me.

        The candles are pure white and vary in size from tea candles to tall pillar candles. Some are floating in clear round bowls a quarter of the way full with water. Others are standing on the ground surrounded by red rose petals in between vases full of all sorts of flowers, all themed red, white, and greens.

       The flickering lights from the candles are the only thing lighting my way with the curtains shut tight blocking out the light from every window making the noontime seem like midnight instead.

        “Wow.” All of this for Thanksgiving? What will he do on Valentine's day? I’m not sure I want to know.

        Laughing to myself I do the only thing I can. I drop my purse onto the floor next to the door careful not to knock over any lit candles, I want to see where this leads not be responsible for lighting the house on fire.

        Thinking about it I’m actually surprised Mason risked this much fire and flammable petals as a literal invite for me to walk through. Me, the klutziest person he’s ever known.

            With extra careful steps, I follow the path sticking to the middle and keeping my eyes on the floor, watching every step, very aware that there’s a very real possibility a random petal will swipe my feet out from under me like a banana peel on a cartoon.

            As careful as I have to be it takes nothing away from how I’m feeling like I imagine a kid waking up on Christmas morning would. I want to run to the end of the path so I can find the treasure waiting for me, hopefully, a sexy as sin, over the top man.

            So yeah, maybe not exactly like a kid on Christmas morning but you get the gist of it.

            I follow along not taking in all the beautiful details I wish I could at the moment too worried about my next step, but I’ll definitely be walking back this way well clutching Mason’s hand. I do however have to stop at the bottom of the stairs and look up, the call to do so is too strong to ignore.

            The sight is beautiful, with the high ceilings and large curved staircase, the light from the flickering candles shine perfectly off the marble, with very few petals laying about all of them budding up to the half walls on either side of the staircase like maybe he did remember who he’s trying to wine and dine here.

            Usually, when you look up the stairs you can see a little of the foyer that awaits there, a wall with a giant abstract canvas painting, with a modern table underneath, holding a few perfectly matching decorations but right now there are vases upon vases of flowers filling the space. 

            Branching off from either side of the foyer are hallways, the hallway to the left would lead me to our room, the guest room I stayed in when I first got here, and two others that are farther down the hall with the theater room in between. If I went down the hallway to the right I would find the rest of the guest rooms and the gym and game room.

            I can tell from here the hall to the right is dark, fading into the background, forgotten. Well, the hall to the left glows in invitation.

            Fighting back an excited squeal I press a hand to my bubbling stomach as I take the first step up, time to find Mason.