Oracle: A Paranormal Women's Fiction Series (A Diana Hawthorne Supernatural Mystery Book 1), Carissa Andrews [read my book .txt] 📗

Come on Diana, where is your head at?

“Thanks so much, Renaldo. I’ll definitely give you a call later tonight. I really do appreciate you being willing to teach me,” Lenny says.

“My pleasure, Len. You got this,” Renaldo says.

The doorbell to the shop dings as Lenny exits.

A moment later, Renaldo bounds into my reading room.

“What a beautiful soul,” he says, holding his hand to his chest.

“So, you decided to help him?” I say, already knowing the answer.

“Of course. Did you see him? He’s hopeless. Lord, if someone doesn’t show him the ropes, ain’t no one gonna notice how beautiful his eyes are,” he says, dropping into the chair across from me.

“Good, you both had a pretty strong cord. He’ll be around for a while. Maybe this is an answer to your prayers, too,” I say.

“What do you mean? I’m not leaving Brody for—”

I wave my hand dismissively, “No, not that. I mean, maybe once he and Andrew are together—if they continue on that trajectory—because it’s not certain yet, I could see you all hanging out together. It would lighten Brody’s load to keep you entertained.”

Renaldo gasps, “I’m not that much of a diva, Diana. What are you saying?”

“You know you're a piece of work, and damn lucky to have found Brody,” I laugh.

“Hmph,” he says, crossing his arms.

“But at least it looks like you'll be on the upswing,” I say, shrugging.

“Well, as long as someone lets me dress them, it's a start,” Ren says, his eyes distant as he no-doubt starts to mentally rearrange Lenny's wardrobe. “Now, what are we going to do with you?”

“Nothing. I'm going to go about my day as usual. In fact, when's my next client due?” I ask, glancing at my wrist.

Ren’s lips tug into a straight line, but he says, “Any minute, I suppose.”

“Good. I'm gonna go sit outside and enjoy the fresh air while I wait,” I say, standing up and heading once again to the back door.

“You can't survive on fresh air alone. Do you want me to call down to the cafe for lunch again?” he asks, making his way to the front.

“No,” I say, shaking my head. “I think I'll go out today, instead.”

Ren’s jaw slacks open, “Are you feeling okay? You haven’t been out since—”

“Good God, I'm fine. Now, go wait for the next client, would you?” I say, shooing him with my hands.

“You can run, Ms. Thang, but you can’t hide,” he says. “One of these days, all this running will catch up with you.”

“Yeah, yeah—going now,” I say slamming the door behind me.

8

THE NEXT FEW DAYS drag by. I’m talking the pace a grandma snail would be proud of. My mind keeps toying with the idea of finding Blake—or maybe finding a way to call him. Of course, I always think better of it.

I mean, who am I kidding? Even if I went for coffee or offered to help on the case, having him around hinders my abilities anyway. Besides, it’s not like he isn’t capable on his own.

“Daydreaming again?” Renaldo says, breaking my concentration, and causing me to jump.

“Christ, don’t sneak up on a person like that,” I squeak.

“Ooooohhh, musta been a good one, too. Were you dreaming about tall, dark, and tight ass?” he says, rushing in.

“Would you drop it, Ren? I’m not even dating the man. He wanted help on a case,” I say, rubbing my cheeks.

“True, but as I recall, he also asked you out to coffee, did he not?”

“He did, but it was so he could try to talk me into helping him. Nothing more,” I say.

“And how do you know?”

The doorbell rings, and Ren holds up a finger, “Hold that thought. I’ll be right back. Should give you plenty of time to come up with something.”

I shake my head. Leave it to Ren to turn an acquaintance into a full-blown love interest.

But I have to admit, Blake’s a hard nut to crack. What is it that makes him impossible to read? Could he be tied to me somehow? Or am I leaning on some bizarre wishful thinking? Possibly both?

Ren bounds back in, a spring in his step and a box in his hands.

“The box of Valentine’s goodies is here,” he says, a chipper tone in his voice. He’s always loved Valentine’s Day. It’s the one time of the year when he can pretty much guarantee the attention he generally hopes for from Brody.

“You know these items are meant for customers, right? Paying, customers,” I say, leaning back in my chair.

“What exactly are you insinuating, Ms. Diana?” he says, feigning surprise.

“Exactly that. Unless you’re a paying customer, it stays here.”

“I wouldn’t dream of stealing from you. Though, if you paid me more, I’d be able to afford more…”

“A vicious cycle, I’m afraid,” I say, chuckling.

He pulls out a whip that looks more like a feather duster than something to spank with. His eyebrows practically bury themselves in his hairline.

“Mmmm. Roar,” he says. “I'm thinking you should take one of these.”

“Paying customers,” I reiterate. “Since I'm not paying, nor a customer —I think not,” I say, shaking my head. “Besides, what the hell would I do with it except whip my dust bunnies into shape?”

“You’re such a party pooper,” Ren says, frowning. “There's so many goodies in here.”

I shake my head and pick up the box. I place it squarely in his outstretched hands.

“Take this to the front and do your magic, please.”

Sighing heavily, he takes the box and turns on his heel—throwing a dramatic head spin in for good measure.

The doorbell dings again, and I take my spot at my reading table. The room is ready; candles lit and incense burning.

“Hey, got a sec?” Blake pops his head inside the room.

My mouth pops open, and I stand up, nearly knocking over the table.

“I—uh, no. I don’t actually. I have a client who’ll turn up any minute now,” I say, trying to overcome the surprise.

I scramble to keep my