Читать книгу Faking It - Dorie Graham, Dorie Graham - Страница 8

“YOU ARE A DESPERATE MAN.” Amanda Barnes, Jack’s good friend, power walked over a pile of seaweed and regarded him through narrowed eyes. Beyond her, white clouds drifted past a pale blue sky.

He inhaled a breath of salt-tinged air and lengthened his stride to keep pace with her, though the tightening in his chest increased with the effort. “I went there because you told me to go.”

“And you do everything I say?”

“Not normally.”

“Exactly.”

“I’m not saying that I’m even thinking about taking this woman’s advice, but I thought you’d have an opinion on tantra.”

A wave crashed along the shore beside them and she swerved to avoid the spray, her short blond hair swinging. “I think tantra is a good thing. I don’t know much about it except that it involves different positions and meditations.”

“Can you see me approaching one of these women? What would I say? ‘Please excuse me, miss, but I’m looking for a good sexual healer. I was wondering, might you be available?”

“I’ll bet that you could find someone online who would schedule through drop-down menus.”

“Is that legal?”

She shrugged. “They’re not selling sex. They’re selling sexual healing. It’s not the same. I’m sure any decent lawyer could establish the difference. Besides, you don’t really want to find a healer online. You need to meet her in person. Where did this bookseller say you could find these women?”

“She said one of the daughters’ names is Erin McClellan and she’d be around twenty-four and she studied feng shui when she was younger. The woman thought Erin would be practicing it now and I could find her that way.”

“You know, I might have heard something about this. What was that last name again?”

“McClellan.”

“If this is what I’m thinking, they could be the real thing, truly gifted. Not just tantra, but something…more.”

“You’ve actually heard of them?” he asked.

“I have this friend from yoga class who knows a guy whose roommate’s brother may have dated a McClellan. Don’t know if she had any sisters or not, but how many sexual healers can there be?”

He pressed his hand to his chest. “I never said I was looking for one of them.”

“Why not?”

Stopping, he stared at her in disbelief. “You said I was desperate for mentioning it.”

She circled back beside him and her brown eyes took on a serious light. She nodded to where his hand pressed against his chest. “Your symptoms are getting worse. Look at you, we’ve hardly gone a quarter of a mile and you’re winded. Your best option at this point is surgery that may or may not fix your heart, if you survive it. I’d say you’re pretty desperate.”

He scowled and started walking at a slower pace. His cell phone sounded. Without stopping, he answered it. “Hello?”

“Jack, it’s Aunt Rose. Have you got a minute?”

“Sure. What’s up?”

“The computer keeps locking up. Do you have time to look at it?”

“Did you ask Bobby?” he asked, slanting Amanda a glance.

“He ran a virus check and did a few other things, but it’s still not right. You know he can’t fix these things the way you can.”

“Okay, I’ll try to stop by sometime over the next few days. I’ll call you.” He said goodbye, ignoring Amanda’s look of censure.

“Jack, you gave in way too easy that time,” she chided.

“It’s just a computer.”

“You can’t continue to be everything to everybody. You’re so busy taking care of all of them, you’re not looking out for number one. You don’t need the extra pressure now. What happened to your plan to help them become less dependent on you?”

“I’m easing them into it. At least this time she called Bobby first. They’re trying.”

Amanda frowned. “Fine, but we still need to get you better.”

“Not to worry. There are plenty of other alternative-healing methods I haven’t tried. That book listed ones I don’t think you know about.”

“Did you schedule with that reiki master?”

“I went this morning,” he said.

“And?”

“It was very peaceful and relaxing, but I didn’t feel the earth move.”

“It’s not like that.”

“She said the reiki would continue to work for a while longer and that my energies were more balanced, whatever that means.” He glanced at her. “She said my heart chakra—some kind of energy-center thing—was closed or deunified or something and that was partly why I was having trouble.”

He spread his arms in appeal. “I don’t get all this energy talk. Maybe I should stick to conventional medicine. I have a physical defect in my arterial valve. How will balancing my energies or channeling some life force or whatever she was doing help that?”

“It’s all connected. What affects the emotional body impacts the physical body, as well as the etheric and so forth,” Amanda said.

He frowned at her. The woman was nuts. Why was he listening to her?

She raised her hands. “All I’m saying is that unresolved emotional issues manifest as physical illness.”

“Besides the fact that all that mumbo jumbo sounds a little flaky, this is more a defect than an illness.”

“Still, it’s worth a shot.”

“You think I should find one of these McClellan women and strike up a relationship?” he asked.

“It beats hiring a sexual healer off the Internet.”

A sail moved along the horizon. A gull screeched overhead. The hammering of his heart echoed in his ears. He stopped again. “You think it might work?”

She wiped a bead of perspiration from her forehead. “This woman healed my friend’s friend’s roommate’s brother of emphysema. His doctor took before-and-after X-rays of his lungs. It was unheard of. The whole thing was documented in some obscure medical journal. And he wasn’t the only one. Apparently she has a following of men she’s healed. They all adore her and each swears she’s healed them in one way or another.”

“You sure you didn’t read that in the Enquirer?”

Her eyebrows arched. “Yes, I’m sure. She healed him, Jack. You have to find her or one of her sisters, if that’s the case. Maybe we can Google the one who does feng shui.”

“Google her?”

“If she’s practicing feng shui, I’ll bet she has a Web site.”

“And what would I say to her if we were to find her?”

“You’d just introduce your charming self and let nature run its course.”

“I don’t know. The whole thing sounds ludicrous.”

“Hold on.” She pulled her flip phone from her pocket, opened it, then punched a few buttons.

“I’ll bet my friend George can get some information. He’s still good friends with— Oh, here’s his voice mail…Hey, George, it’s Amanda. Listen, I’m trying to get the scoop on the woman who healed that guy’s emphysema. Was her last name McClellan? You know the one who has the gift of sexual healing? Can you talk to your friend and see if he can get an update on her and her family from his roommate’s brother? I was hoping you could help me locate her or one of her sisters if she has any. Okay, so call me when you have something. Thanks, I owe you.”

She hung up and smiled at him. “There, we’ll have you all set in no time.”

A feeling of apprehension settled over him. God, he was a desperate man.

SUNLIGHT FELL THROUGH a skylight onto Erin’s desk in her design studio. She sighed and flipped through the stack of invoices she’d been ignoring for the past week. There was no more putting it off. It was time to balance her accounts.

A whisper of movement sounded and she started, then stared. A blond stranger stepped into the sunlight spilling around her desk. He was tall and lean, his eyes dark and intense.

Her heart pounded. “Goodness, you scared me.”

He gestured toward the front. “Oh, sorry. The bell jingled, but you must not have heard.” Moving forward, he extended his hand. “I’m Jack Langston and I’m guessing you’re Erin McClellan.”

She rose, taking his hand as she moved around the desk. A shock of warmth spread through her at the contact. “Yes, I’m Erin. Guess I’ve been a little too absorbed in balancing my accounts. Or at least trying to.” She laughed, the sound seeming strained to her own ears.

He seemed to fill the splash of sunlight as though he was part of it—an angel sent to taunt her with his beauty. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Langston.”

“The pleasure’s mine. Please call me Jack. I’ve heard so much about you.”

“You have? Then do you mind if I ask who referred you?”

“I didn’t catch her name. She owns a little shop down in Coconut Grove. It’s called the Emperor’s Attic.”

“The Emperor’s Attic?” Unease gripped her.

“I believe she was the owner. She’s certainly worked there a long time. She spoke highly of you…and your family.”

“My family? What did she say about my family?” Her mind raced. She hadn’t been there in ages, but her unconventional relatives no doubt still frequented the metaphysical bookstore.

Jack straightened. “Mostly she talked about how well known you are for your work with feng shui.”

“But you said she talked about my family.” A faint roaring sounded in her ears. She tried to breathe, but it felt as if a weight pressed her chest.

“Isn’t this a family business?”

“No, this is my interior-design business. I don’t work with feng shui anymore.” A myriad of emotions swamped her. She leaned against her desk to steady herself. What was wrong with her?

“You don’t?” He frowned. “Why not?”

“I’ve decided to pursue a more mainstream clientele.”

“Mainstream?” A note of disbelief colored his voice.

“Mr. Langston, I’m not sure what you’ve heard about me or my family, but I assure you I run a very respectable business here.” Who was this man to question her in this way?

“I don’t doubt that, Ms. McClellan, but I don’t see anything disrespectable about feng shui. I’m no expert, but it seems quite a good number of upstanding citizens swear by it.”

“I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with it. I have simply chosen not to practice that type of design anymore. I find my business has picked up significantly since I decided to go with the more conventional mode of interior design.”

“But you would take on a job for a paying client if he wanted you to use your knowledge of feng shui?” He moved a step closer.

The tumult of emotions clamored inside her. She pressed her lips together to keep from crying out. He caused this tangle of feelings. Was this the empathic nature her family spoke of?

Well, they could have it.

“Are you such a client?” she asked.

He met her steady gaze. “Yes, I believe I am.”

“You’re saying you’re interested in feng shui?”

“That’s right. I have a condo on the intercoastal. It needs—” he gestured lamely “—some of that stuff.”

“Feng shui is more a philosophy than a collection of ‘stuff.’”

“Right. I need your expertise on how to bring that philosophy into my home.”

“And are you familiar with it then, Mr. Langston?”

“Jack.”

“Okay, Jack, what do you know about feng shui?”

“It’s the philosophy of…how energy—” he wiggled his hand through the air “—moves through space…and how you can arrange a living area…to promote harmony, balance and well-being.” He smiled triumphantly.

A shock—a connection—ran between them. She stood for a moment, not breathing as the turmoil inside her subsided and a feeling of well-being wrapped around her. She fisted her hands, fighting the outrageous urge to touch him.

Then she glanced away. Whoever he was, the feelings he stirred in her were anything but normal. “I’m afraid I can’t help you.”

“Why not?” He stepped even closer to her.

For an instant she thought he might grab her. A thrill shot through her and she chastised herself for the unwanted reaction. “My schedule is full. I’m not currently accepting new clients.”

“Maybe if you saw my place, you’d feel inspired. It’s a great condo.”

“No doubt.”

“And if I wanted to hire you for some regular interior-design work, would you be available?”

She stared at him a long moment, a strange sense of longing filling her. But he’d come from the Emperor’s Attic. He was interested in feng shui. He knew a little about her family.

And she was attracted to him.

“I’ve already told you that my schedule is full,” she finally said.

Disappointment flashed in his eyes. “Very well, Erin.” He handed her one of his business cards. “In case you change your mind.”

She took his card and extended her hand. “Thank you for stopping by.” His hand was warm and firm. The odd sense of well-being blanketed her. Her chest tightened with regret. “I’m sorry to disappoint you.”

“Are you?”

She let go of his hand, but the connection stretched between them. “Yes, Jack, I am.”

He nodded toward the card in her hand. “You know how to reach me.”

She refrained from comment as he turned and walked away.

Several hours later, Erin rubbed her eyes, then focused again on the numbers in the spreadsheet. Damn, she hadn’t realized she was cutting things so close this month.

And she’d turned away a paying customer.

Thoughts of Jack Langston assailed her, as they had numerous times since he’d left. It would be best to stay away from that one. The man was anything but conventional. Her life had already been one unconventional mess after another.

While Erin was growing up, her mother had dragged her and her sisters from lover to lover, home to home. The rootless existence had taken its toll on Erin. In her teens, she had delved into feng shui in an attempt to bring some order to the standard chaos of their temporary living arrangements, but no sooner would she make a place livable then they’d be off to Maggie’s next lover.

When Erin had been old enough, she’d escaped to live with her sisters. They had stayed in one place, but with Nikki’s night creepers and Tess’s minions, though, Erin had traded one circus for another. More than anything now she needed normal, and Jack did not fit that bill.

The bell on her door jingled and she jumped, her heart speeding the way it had when Jack Langston had appeared beside her desk earlier.

She groaned inwardly as Tess headed toward her, their oldest sister, Nikki, in tow. Both bore looks of determination. Erin braced herself as they stopped, arms crossed, before her.

“Okay, miss, it’s quitting time. You’re coming with us.” Tess glanced at Nikki for confirmation.

“That’s right, Erin. We’re stealing you away. No arguments,” Nikki said. “We haven’t seen enough of you lately and Mason and Dylan are both tied up, so Tess and I are on our own for the night. The timing couldn’t be better.”

Erin eyed them warily. “Better for what?”

“Ladies’ night.” Tess grabbed Erin’s purse from the back of her chair. “Let’s go. If we hurry, we can make happy hour.”

“Wait a minute. Since when are the two of you so anxious to hit happy hour? Nikki, you hate clubbing. And Tess, you’d be asking for trouble by setting foot in a bar. What is this really about?”

“We want to spend some time with you. Why does it have to be about anything more than that?” Nikki’s eyes filled with censure.

“I don’t feel like going to a bar. Why don’t we go to a nice restaurant instead? Someplace we can actually hear each other.” Erin said.

“Okay.” Tess slung Erin’s purse over her own shoulder and headed for the door. “Let’s go to that little place in South Beach.”

“Wait, come back with my purse.” Erin hurried after her. “What place in South Beach?”

“That place that Josh discovered that he likes so well.”

“What place? You are talking about a restaurant, right?”

“Come on. We’ll have fun. When was the last time we had a girls’ night out?” Nikki asked.

Unease rippled along Erin’s spine. Something was fishy about this whole thing. She dug in her heels, but Tess pushed through the door. Groaning, Erin followed.