Twist of Fate Louise, Tia (read dune .txt) 📖

Life goes on.

“You feel like going to school?”

She doesn’t say anything, and this lethargy in my hyperactive toddler aches my soul. I love him. I don’t want him to go, but she’s just a baby.

We get back to the store, and it feels so empty. I take her hand.

“If you want to stay home today, that would be okay.”

“Okay, Mommy.” Her voice is quiet. She picks up her pink football and climbs the stairs one at a time.

For a full minute, I stand considering turning the lock on the door, turning the sign, and making it a sick day for both of us. We could stay in our PJs, eat ice cream from the freezer, watch whatever movie she’ll be still for—or fall asleep in—and just be sad.

My fingers curl with decision when Spencer’s voice stops me. “I can only guess I’m getting weak in my old age.”

Looking over my shoulder, I see him standing in the entrance holding the purple art glass.

“Spencer.” I exhale a sob, crossing the space to hug him as the tears coat my cheeks.

He stiffens, patting my arms. “I didn’t realize it meant so much to you.”

He braces my arms, and I shake my head, stepping out of his hold and wiping my tears. “I’m sorry. It’s not that. I mean, it is that in a way, but it’s not that.”

His dark brow furrows, and he studies me. “What’s the matter?”

I’m still shaking my head, going to the counter to pull a tissue. I blow my nose loudly, and when I turn around, his eyes narrow.

“It’s that pituitary case, isn’t it? What did he do now?”

“Scout isn’t a pituitary case. Stop saying that.” I grab another tissue to finish drying my eyes. “He went back to L.A. He was offered the lead in this new film.”

“And he chose it over you.” Spencer’s deep voice is conclusive, but I push back.

“I told him to go. He needs to do this, or he’ll always wonder.”

Spencer slides a hand down the front of his blazer, I’m sure checking for snot on his expensive suit. The muscle in his jaw square moves. “You know, I always wondered why we never tried dating.”

I exhale a short laugh, drying a fresh tear. “I don’t think I could ever be one of your protégés.”

“I wouldn’t insult you that way. We’re more of an intellectual match.”

That sounds terrible, and not romantic at all. Still, I go to where he’s holding that purple vase, offering his version of comfort, and squeeze his arm appreciatively.

“Our chemistry doesn’t work, Spence.”

He gives me that look, and I take the vase. “You’re going to let Ms. Nelly have this?”

“You said she’s eighty-something?”

“Yes.” I carry the distinctive piece to the counter and wrap it in tissue.

“Perhaps you can keep tabs on it. If none of her descendants want it, I’ll buy the entire set.”

“That’s really generous—”

The door flies open, and in a swirl of auburn force, my cousin sweeps into the store. “Daisy…” Her navy eyes are round, and she comes straight to me, pulling me into a hug. “Ms. Alice was having breakfast with Mom. The minute she said he left, I came straight here. Are you okay?”

My throat aches, and I swallow more tears. “I’ve been better.”

She steps back, holding me at arm’s length and inspecting my face. “Oh, hon. I’m so sorry.” She pulls me into a hug again. “Want me to kick his ass for you?”

“You’ll have to get in line.” Spencer’s deep voice cuts in, and she turns to see who’s with us.

Their eyes meet, and she straightens like she’s startled. “I’m sorry… Was I interrupting something?” Her eyes are wide when she looks back at me.

“I can’t believe you two haven’t met. Spencer, this is my cousin Joselyn—I’m sure I’ve mentioned Sly. Sly, this is Spencer, my associate…”

“The one from Columbia? The arrogant Simon Cowell-type?” Her fleeting moment of smitten-ness is replaced with overprotectiveness. Her tone turns bossy. “Your reputation precedes you.”

Spencer’s eyes flash, and the smallest smile curls his lips. He takes a step forward, extending a polished hand. “Maybe we should get to know each other better before you pass judgment.”

“I’m sure I know enough already.” She lifts her chin defiantly, and the effect it has on my old buddy Spence is palpable.

“Spencer actually came to give me a vase for Ms. Nelly Rushmore. He was being kind—”

“A habit I don’t intend to cultivate.” His voice is low, and his hazel eyes are fixed on my cousin.

“I’m sure.” Sly isn’t backing down. “Wouldn’t want you to strain a muscle.”

He clears his throat, shaking himself from the lure of my cousin. “I’d better get to the office. Keep in mind what I said about the set, Daisy. And Joselyn, I hope to see you again.”

She doesn’t answer, and he strides out the door. As soon as he’s gone, she turns to me, shaking her head. “I see what you mean. Total conceited jerk.”

“I can give you his number if you want it.” I wipe my nose with the damp tissue.

Just because my love life is in the toilet, doesn’t mean she can’t be happy.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I like nice men.”

“I’ve heard he can be nice… although I think it was meant in more of a sexual context.”

She waves a hand. “Are you okay? What can I do?”

My lips press together and that pain in my chest expands again. My eyes heat, and the tears spill again, unbidden, unwelcome. “I don’t think I can work today.”

“Oh, Daisy!” She pulls me to her, hugging me close. “Go upstairs and lie down. Watch Netflix, eat all the ice cream. Is Melody at school?”

I shake my head. “She’s upstairs. She’s so sad.” More tears.

“You two cuddle. I’ll run the store.” She walks me to the stairs and gives me another hug. “I swear, the next time I see that Scout Dunne…”

“Thanks, Sly.” I give her one last squeeze and carry my box of tissues upstairs.

When I get to our apartment, Melody is