Sera didn’t care to finish the thought. She had a sudden, powerful urge to whip up a batch of rocky road bars. Somewhere far, far away from here.
“I see the resemblance,” murmured Lupe, eyeing Serafina’s sagging skirt and dog-mussed hair. It took Sera a moment to realize she was talking about—and subtly insulting—both herself and her aunt. “How nice to meet you,” she intoned further, holding out a limp hand for Sera to shake. No calluses or scars marred her perfect mitts, Sera thought uncharitably as she accepted the other woman’s chilly clasp. But maybe those $100 French tips were a requirement for someone who modeled and displayed jewelry for a living. She withdrew her own unmanicured paw as quickly as was polite, hoping her palms hadn't been too revealingly damp.
“Ah… nice to meet you, too, Guadalupe.” Sera drew herself up to her full five feet, two inches. “Well,” she chirped far more brightly than she felt, “I’ve taken up too much of your time, Asher. I’ll get out of your hair now. Got a lot to do if I’m going to get my shop off the ground!” She turned blindly for the door, and caught her scarf—one of Pauline’s brightly colored ethnic jobs, which she’d borrowed to combat the chilly morning air—on one of the countertop earring displays. Bright bits of metal scattered like buckshot, rolling and bouncing across the floor, and she choked as the suddenly tightening fabric grabbed her by the throat. Sera’s face went pink, but it wasn't from lack of oxygen. Even in a lifetime of embarrassing exits, this had to rank in the top ten.
“Oh,” she cried, “I’m so sorry. Here, let me just…” She began frantically trying to untangle the sparkly threads of the scarf from the tines of the earring holder so she could gather the strewn silver items from the floor and make her escape.
Asher leaned across the counter, stilling her hands on the scarf with his own warm, strong ones. “Allow me, Bliss,” he commanded softly. “I untangle jewelry for a living. Lupe, would you please help Miss Wilde with the stray earrings?” he requested. It was clearly a boss-to-employee-type request.
Guadalupe looked as if she'd just bitten down on a raw jalapeño. “Of course,” she murmured through tight lips. She came around the counter on stiff legs and bent over ostentatiously at the waist to collect the loose studs that had rolled across the floor. In her pencil skirt and platform stilettos, her ass formed a perfect heart shape, but the message it was sending Serafina was anything but loving. Whatever the message to Asher, however, Sera was pleased to see he was oblivious to it, engrossed in the fine work of teasing her stubborn scarf free from the wires of the earring tree. His expressive face was intent and his sensitive fingers worked with total focus over the delicate operation of untethering Sera from his artwork. He was so close she could smell that unique Asher scent again—man, metal, fire, fresh air. She tried not to inhale too deeply of its heady aroma, resisting the impulse to reach out and touch the lock of antique gold hair that fell across his brow, just to test if it was as lustrous as it looked.
Just then he looked up, catching her staring. And winked. “Don’t let her get to you, Bliss,” he said quietly. “Lupe doesn’t like women much.” His fingers freed the last folds of fabric, making bold to reach around Serafina’s suddenly sensitized neck and loosen the scarf until it fell free to puddle on the counter between them.
But do you? she wondered, obediently reaching out to take the cloth as he laid it in her palm. She tried not to clutch it like a groupie clinging to some rock star’s discarded sweat rag. And could you learn to like me, in particular? It took an effort of will not to ask.
“I’m tougher than I look,” was what Sera said aloud. It was suddenly very important that this man not see her as some fragile flower. “No one’s ‘getting to me’ unless I let ’em.”
“Good.” Asher smiled. All awkwardness had passed, the lively charm that was his armor firmly buckled in place once more. Sera didn’t know whether to be happy or regretful. “I believe it. You have what it takes to succeed,” he pronounced authoritatively. “That’s how I know Bliss will be a massive success.”
Sera beamed. “Why, thank you.” She felt like she’d just swallowed a cup of sunshine, and could barely contain it.
Lupe stalked up to the glass counter and dropped a handful of solid sterling earrings on it with a rat-a-tat like machine gun fire. “All present and accounted for,” she said with a disdainful sniff, “though some of them may have suffered in the… accident.” The way she sneered the word “accident,” she might as well have pinned a medal for klutziness on Sera’s lapel.
Sera’s sunny feeling clouded over as rapidly as the ever-shifting New Mexico weather. “Oh! I’m sorry… I’ll be happy to pay for any damages,” she hastened to assure them both, her hand fluttering to her shoulder bag for her wallet and her cheeks flaming once again.
Asher stopped her with a hand over her own. That’s twice he’s touched me today, Sera’s lizard brain noted. “Don’t be silly. In fact… I would like you to have these.” He reached, not for the pile of assorted earrings Lupe had gathered on the countertop, but into the display area below, where some of the finest, most obviously costly pieces were showcased. He bypassed a spectacular pendant with an infinity spiral of silver limned in pure gold and inlaid with mother-of-pearl, reaching for a deceptively simple set of small hoop earrings worked in plain silver metal, but with such beautiful balance and weight that they looked still liquid, filled with energy and harmonious grace.
He lifted the delicate earrings out of the case, laying them on his callused palm and eyeing them ruminatively. He glanced up at Serafina, then back to his creation, then nodded decisively. “Yes, I believe these were meant for you. Please accept them as our way of welcoming you to the neighborhood.”
“Our” was probably a bit of a stretch for politeness’ sake. If Guadalupe were in charge of the welcoming committee, Sera had a feeling those earrings would be spearing her eyelids, not her earlobes. How she worked in a jewelry shop with such a lousy attitude toward women was a mystery. But Sera was so tickled, she happily ignored Lupe’s outraged glower.
“I should refuse these,” she murmured, already picking the first from Asher’s palm and fixing it into her lobe. “But I’m just not that virtuous. Thank you, Asher, for this extraordinary gift.” She slipped the second earring into place, and felt the cold metal warm against her flesh. A glimpse into the mirror on the counter showed her what she’d already guessed. The hoops were perfect for her—they went beautifully with her short, angled haircut and made her neck look longer and more elegant. “They’re gorgeous, and I will cherish them. I look forward to repaying you in cupcakes and coffee in the very near future.”
“Good.” Asher pushed back from the counter with a satisfied air.
Good that I’m not that virtuous, or good that I’ll be serving up baked goods? Sera wondered.
“You’ll be slaving over a hot stove until you’re ninety to pay those off,” she heard Lupe mutter.
The chime of a bell over the shop’s front door drew the attention of all three, and in trooped a pair of plump, pasty women sporting sweatshirts with rhinestones and puffy animal decals, clutching bags printed with the logo of a well-known Santa Fe souvenir supplier.
“Do y’all sell those… those whaddaya call ’ems… those Cocoa Puffy statues?” one of the ladies asked loudly. Her hair was an alarming shade of magenta, and looked as if it had survived the fall of Atlanta.
“It’s Kokopelli, Marla,” her friend, who had on a sweatshirt of a neon coyote baying at the crescent moon, corrected her.