From RomanceJunkies.com
Written in the Stars
By Jill
Aug 25, 2007, 11:41
"Car, it's me. Listen, I need you to do me a favor."
"Good morning, Mariah. I'm fine. How are you?" Carmen greeted her sister, injecting a note of sarcasm into her tone as her gaze shifted to the bedside clock. Seven A.M. Lovely.
"I'm fine, thanks, but I'm in a hurry. I have an appointment with Pastor Joyce at nine, and then I'm meeting Drake for lunch at La Chateau. Then I have to pick up invitation samples, run by the grocery store, pick up the dry cleaning, take everything home...then meet Drake again for dinner."
Carmen rolled onto her back and listened as her sister took a long, shaky breath. "Take it easy, Mare. You've got a couple months to sort things out. What can I do to help?"
"Well, since you asked..."
Carmen closed her eyes and shook her head, realizing she'd just stepped into a trap. "You're evil."
"I know," Mariah said on a laugh. "Look, just run by Blue's shop and ask if he can play at the reception."
"Who --? No. Don't tell me you¡¦re hiring those Blues Brothers." Carmen shook her head in disbelief.
"Little Boy Blue," Mariah told her. "The Blues Brothers were in that old Belushi movie."
"Blues Brothers, Little Boy Blue, same difference. Those guys are like a throwback to the seventies."
"Sixties."
"Whatever. Mariah, this is your wedding. I know you're soft-hearted, and you're always taking in strays, but for heaven's sake, you can't hire a band like that to play at your reception, just because you happen to know the drummer is down on his luck."
"Piano player."
"Fine, piano player. Dammit, Mariah, quit correcting me. What difference does it make, anyway? You can't be serious about hiring them." Carmen released a sigh. "Oh, never mind. It's your wedding."
"Good, I'm glad you're willing to see reason. Just give Blue the date and pick out some songs."
"You want me to choose your music? What the hell do I know about seventies music?" Carmen sat up, plumping a pillow behind her back.
"Sixties music, and I'm sure Blue will be able to suggest something appropriate. Please, Carmen. For me?"
"Oh, all right. But you owe me one. Where does Blue live?" Blue, she thought. What the hell kind of a name is Blue?
"I don't know where his house is, but his music store is down on Monterey Avenue. I'm sure you've seen it. It's right there beside Arbor Drugs."
"Never noticed it. Isn't there a barber shop next to the drug store?" Phone propped against her shoulder, Carmen climbed from the bed. She pulled on her robe and headed for the kitchen, a cup of coffee calling her name.
"Used to be, about a year ago. Where have you been? Oh, never mind, I forgot. You don't get out much. Anyway, the name of the place is House of Blue's."
"Oh, that's original." Carmen shook her head then made a grab for the phone as it tumbled from her shoulder. She caught the handset just before it hit the floor. "You there?"
"Yeah, what are you doing?"
"Making coffee. Okay, so are you going to call him first and let him know I'm coming, or am I just supposed to show up?" Carmen filled the coffeepot and flicked the switch then hoisted herself up on the counter. Immediately, the smell of fresh brewed coffee filled her little kitchen.
"I'll call him and let him know you're coming. Do you have any idea what time?"
"Well, I have to do some stuff around here this morning, and then I have PTA at five-thirty. Why don't we say around three? That should give us enough time to put together an assortment of songs."
"Sounds good. I'll give him a call in a little bit; I don't think he opens until like, um, ten, I think." Mariah's words came through garbled and faded as their connection broke up. "I gotta fly. Thanks, hon."
"Mariah, wait. Are you sure you trust me to do this? I mean, what if I pick a song you hate or something?" Carmen had a sudden vision of her sister, preparing to dance her wedding dance, only to burst into tears of disappointment when the music started.
"Carmen, are you there? Hello? Can you hear --?"
Can you hear me now? Shit. Carmen hit the end button as the line went dead. Oh, well. She hoped Mariah knew what she was doing. She put the phone on the counter, and then reached into the cupboard behind her for a mug.
"I don't think I can name one song from the seventies. Sixties, I mean. Sure hope good old Blue has some ideas." She poured herself a cup of coffee, added a heavy dollop of vanilla-flavored creamer, and then glanced at the clock. Seven forty-five. Shit. Breanna was going to be late for school. Again. Carmen shook her head. The last thing she needed was another phone call from the attendance officer, asking why Breanna was always late for school. Because it starts too damned early, she wanted to tell them. Carmen hated mornings; always had, always would. And unfortunately, Breanna had inherited her mom's phobia of pre-noon hours. The kid could sleep later than anyone Carmen knew. After dumping her untouched coffee down the drain, rinsing her mug and placing it in the dishwasher, Carmen headed back up the stairs.
***
Carmen easily found a parking space, right in front of House of Blue's. The tiny music store was located in one of the less popular sections of town, an area similar to New York City's SOHO, populated by artists and musicians. The store still sported the candy-striped barbershop pole out front, a leftover relic from the previous owner. Sidestepping a group of teens who gave her dirty looks and then ran laughing down the sidewalk, Carmen opened the door to Blue's store and stepped inside.
She paused in the entry for a moment, allowing her eyes to adjust to the gloom. Black lights flickered in long, neon tubes overhead, casting velvet posters in an eerie light. The smell of incense hung heavy in the air - sandalwood, Carmen guessed, wrinkling her nose, though she couldn't be sure. As far as she was concerned, one musky sweet scent was the same as the next. Strange, psychedelic music blared from speakers mounted high up in all four corners of the room, and for added effect, someone had installed a discotheque ball in the ceiling's center. The mirrored globe spun slowly, almost lazily, reflecting dancing squares of light on every available surface.
Now that , Carmen thought, as she stepped further into the room, is definitely from the seventies. She peered past a stack of boxes labeled drumsticks and called out. "Mr. - um, Blue? Hello? Is anybody here?"
"Yeah." A man's deep, slightly gravelly voice sounded from somewhere near the rear of the store. "Back here."
Carmen shivered. He sounded a little like Sean Connery. A hint of a Scottish accent, and super-sexy. Curious, she slipped around the boxes and headed down an overcrowded aisle.
Careful not to kick any of the instruments or equipment that appeared haphazardly stacked with no rhyme or reason, she made her way to a long, low counter that ran the width of the store. Behind said counter, sitting on a stool, a guitar across his lap, sat the most beautiful man Carmen had ever seen. He literally brought her up short.
For a moment, she could only stare, taking in his broad chest covered by a tight-fitting tie-dyed T-shirt and his long, wavy blonde hair. He had a square, chiseled jaw, sideburns, a moustache and a goatee. Totally not her type, but totally hot, just the same. Her devouring gaze traveled up, until she found herself looking into his eyes. She swallowed back a groan. Damn. So that's why they call you Blue.
"Far out."
Carmen blinked. "I beg your pardon?"
"Can I help you?"
Carmen managed a nod. Clearing her throat, she fought to form a coherent thought. "I - my name is Carmen Simpson-Alexander, and my sister, Mariah, is getting married in June. She'd like to hire your band to play at her reception."
Blue nodded. Setting the guitar aside, he stood and came around the counter. Up close and personal, he had an even stronger affect on her senses, and she had a crazy image of herself running her fingers through his hair.
"What's the date?" he asked.
"The date?"
"Your sister’s wedding. When is she getting married?" He smiled, and his blue, blue eyes sparkled.
"In June."
"So you said." He chuckled softly.
Her cheeks heating as she realized she’d totally lost her train of thought, Carmen uttered an embarrassed little laugh. "I’m sorry. I’m not usually such an idiot. Must be the black lights...or maybe the disco ball. Mariah’s getting married June fifteenth."
"Yeah, must be the lights."
Blue laughed again, and Carmen had a funny feeling he was teasing her – and that he knew damned well why she’d been so flustered. Hell, the man probably had women falling at his feet, mumbling like idiots, all day long. The thought made her stomach tighten, but she wasn’t about to stop and examine why. "So, can you do it?"
"Play at your sister’s reception? I don’t know." He reached under the counter and pulled out a large, spiral-bound date book. "Let me take a look at our schedule. June’s a busy month."
For some reason, Carmen couldn’t quite believe a small-time band like Little Boy Blue was booked solid… even in June. Still, she had a pang of misgiving as she watched Blue open the book and leaf through several filled-up calendar pages.
"Groovy. You’re in luck." Blue stabbed at an open box on the page. "Fifteenth of June is wide open."
"Um, yeah. Groovy. Mariah will be thrilled." Carmen leaned against the counter as Blue picked up a pen and jotted her sister’s name under June fifteenth. "She booked the VFW on Lincolnton. The wedding’s at one and the reception starts at three."
Blue added the information to the calendar, and then looked up. Their faces were mere inches apart, and he seemed to be studying her features. "Any special requests?"
His warm, sweet breath caressed her cheek, and Carmen licked her lips. "Special requests?"
"Yeah. Songs. Did your sister give you a list of songs?" He reached out and ran his palm along her jawbone. "You have a beautiful mouth."
Carmen closed her eyes, tilting her head into his hand. For a moment, she lost herself in his touch, in his soft, seductive voice. But when his lips met hers she flinched and drew back. "What are you doing?"
"Trying to kiss you," he said, without an ounce of regret in his tone.
"Kiss me? Look, Mr. Blue – or whatever your name is – I don’t even know you. For all you know, I could be married. I only came in here because my sister asked me to. I don’t even like sixties music. If it were up to me, we’d hire a good band." Carmen broke off, realizing she was rambling, and probably insulting the man, to boot. "Not that your band isn’t good. It’s just not my type of music, that’s all."
"You’re not."
"I’m not what?"
"Married. When were you born? Not just the day and the year, but the time. Do you know what time you were born?"
"I’m sorry?" Carmen shook her head, struggling to keep up with his swift change of subject. "I...well, I was born November nineteenth, 1966. And yes, I actually do know the time. Mariah and I were born exactly four years apart, almost to the minute. I was born at six fifty-five, and she was born at six fifty-six."
"Ah, a Scorpio. Jake was right." Blue grinned.
"Jake?" Carmen shook her head, deciding to try to get their conversation back on track. "Never mind. Mariah asked me to work with you to pick some songs. I was hoping you could suggest something appropriate."
For what seemed like an eternity, Blue stayed silent, watching her intently. After several moments, Carmen began to feel distinctly uncomfortable. And hot. And tingly. She shook her head. Tingly. What the hell? This had to stop. "Blue, can we pick some songs?"
He nodded then reached below the counter. When he straightened, pulling out another notebook, he smiled. "Carmen, what’s your favorite song?"
His question threw her off stride again, and she opened and closed her mouth several times before she gave up and firmly pressed her lips together.
"You don’t have one, do you? Or if you did, you’ve forgotten what it was."
"Of course I have a favorite song. Everyone does."
"Okay, so what is it?" He put the book aside and leaned forward, elbows on the table.
"Um, what’s that new song? The one by, um, what’s her name?" Carmen frantically searched for a song title – an artist – anything she could throw out to bring this little inquest to an end. "I know. Renegade."
"Renegade? That’s your favorite song?"
"Sure. It’s a great song," Carmen said, avoiding his steady, disbelieving gaze.
"How’s it go?"
"How’s it go? You want me to sing it for you?" Carmen asked, horrified at the notion. She never sang. Not even in the shower. Besides, she’d probably heard the stupid song all of twice, and she didn’t really like it that much. She shook her head. "No way."
"Come on. Just a few lines. I bet you have a great voice. If you like, I’ll accompany you on the guitar."
"You're crazy," Carmen told him, ignoring the tiny thrill she got at the thought of him playing the guitar. Oh, here we go. Now I'm thinking like a damn groupie. She glanced at her watch, surprised to see how much time had passed since she'd pulled up in front of the music stor. If she didn't go now, she'd miss the PTA meeting, and she was scheduled to speak. "Look, as much as I'd love to join you in a little impromptu concert, I need to go. Can we choose the songs another day?"
"Sure. I’ll see you tomorrow at five."
Carmen pulled her day planner from her purse and quickly flipped to the appropriate page. Scanning her list of errands and other obligations, she saw five o’clock was wide open.
"Five it is," she said, slipping the book back into her purse and returning his smile. "But just to choose my sister’s songs, okay? No singing. And no kissing, either."
He laughed, the sound both rich and warm. "Okay, no singing, and I never kiss a woman who’s not willing. The store’ll be closed when you get here, but I’ll leave the door unlocked. If I’m not out here, I’ll be in the back."
"Sounds good. I’ll see you tomorrow." As soon as the words left her mouth, her heart gave an excited little jump at the notion. Unnerved, she quickly turned away and beat a hasty retreat, back through the obstacle course of an aisle to the front door.
"Peace, babe."
Carmen’s steps faltered, but then she gathered her wits and kept moving, unable to stop the silly grin his parting words evoked.
***
"So, she’s sworn off men, has she?" Saliri murmured, watching the data feed scrolling across the digital readout. "That doesn’t look like the actions of a woman who intends to be celibate for the rest of her life."
"You’re right, of course, but I’m still concerned. Did you see him? Are you quite certain we’ve marked the correct target?" Perseus peered over her shoulder, pointing to a series of facts and figures. "Look at the differences between their databases."
Saliri swung around, colliding with Perseus’s broad chest – a chest still amazingly muscular, despite his more than one-thousand years. She tried to dismiss the shiver of excitement touching him caused and concentrate on the topic at hand. Nearly impossible, when he brought his hand up and cupped her face.
"This one is not a mistake"–she panted as he ran his thumb over her lips–"we’ve improved the program dozens of times – so many times, I’ve lost count. Soon, we’ll be able to show a nearly flawless record."
"And when we do, my darling?" He moved his hands to her waist, pulling her close. "What then? Will you stop denying what’s between us? Allow me to announce our love to the others?"
"Yes," Saliri said, breathing hard now. "Once The Project is perfected – once we know each SMM will go off without a single flaw – then yes. You may announce whatever you wish, to whomever you wish."
"But what of The Other? Are you not worried he’ll interfere again? What if we never discover a way to make The Project immune to his mischief-making?"
Saliri stepped back from Perseus’s unsettling physical presence, her ardor cooled at the mention of her nemesis. "Don’t even say such a thing. The thought is unbearable. I cannot even fathom we’ve wasted centuries of research and trials, especially when we know we’re on the right path."
Perseus glanced at the view screen, now showing two distinct human forms – one male, one female. "Then let’s get on with it. The sooner these two connect, the sooner they’ll discover the truth"–he reached out and caressed Saliri’s cheek again–"and the sooner I’ll be able to pursue my own happiness."
© Copyright 2004 by RomanceJunkies.com
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