She mashed her hand into his face and shoved him. He laughed and kissed her. It wasn’t long before she gave in and they were at it again; this time, however, there was no rushing. He made love to her, slowly and thoroughly.
The arrogant bastard was right as usual. She came twice more before he took her home.
Chapter 2
Home Sweet Home
“What are they?” Lucian’s sister, Toni Patras, asked as she grudgingly edged closer to the vendor’s table dressed in a dated blue cloth.
The vendor stood back, his tattered duds flapping worn hemlines like frayed flags with each teasing wind. His stained fingers remained hidden, tucked deep within his crossed arms. Apparently, he was aware that some of the company found his presence wanting. Evelyn’s gaze met his, an empathetic curve to her mouth. She hoped his ego wasn’t too wounded by Toni’s hypercritical appraisal. Of all the Patras siblings, Toni’s silver spoon was the largest, and in moments like this, Evelyn wanted to rip it out of her mouth.
The sidewalk sale was part of the Irish festivities that marked every March in Folsom. Participating in the revelry from this end was such an extremely different experience than what Evelyn was used to. All her life, she awaited the lull of the Annual Folsom Celtic Festival, because it gave way to a smorgasbord for the homeless. Half-eaten foods and bins of discarded toddies sometimes spiked with something to ease a bit of the nip in the air, awaited the empty bellies of the less fortunate. Forgotten jackets and hats littered the sidewalks alongside the trivial bullshit that rich folk wasted money on, like necklaces and bobbles that glowed for a day. Even now, Evelyn couldn’t help but spot some of those forgotten pieces of trash that would soon become another’s treasure.
This had always been her favorite time of year. After the parade came through the beribboned streets of Folsom, thoroughfares were littered with suckers and taffy and plastic jewels, all sorts of treasures a kid on the street never was handed in life.
Evelyn’s memory of her small, dirty hand gripping the waxy wrapper of a long-ago found chocolate taffy transcended to her now manicured hand holding a collection of blue gems. My, how times have changed. Well, not times, but situations. Hers certainly had.
Unable to tear her gaze from the bobble she now held, she tried to answer Toni without losing patience. “I don’t know.”
The sunlight caught on the various swirls of green and blue buried in the smooth stones, waves trapped in time.
“That’s sea glass,” the vendor chimed in. Toni eased back as the vendor smiled toothlessly at them, his unclean odor wafting in their direction over the cool breeze. Evelyn smiled, finding great amusement in Toni’s discomfort. This man was really no different than Evelyn, but Toni wouldn’t know that. While the Patras family was not overtly snobby, they would never become used to those who lived a much rougher life. Toni was the most sheltered of them all.
“It’s beautiful,” Evelyn complimented. Her gaze was transfixed on the various hues. She’d never seen the ocean, but she’d seen pictures. It was as if the stones had trapped those wild, radiant mercurial blues, entombed them together in a piece of glass. She found each little stone to be its own breathtaking work of art. More impressive that it was made by nature. Man could only attempt to imitate such beauty, but this was authentic, something that had been touched by the ocean.
“That there is real silver,” the vendor said informatively, drawing Evelyn’s gaze from the enchanting stones to the other merchandise on display.
Toni gave the dealer an insincere but polite smile and returned the spoon she was holding to the cloth-covered table. She shifted her bag and sighed. “Come on, Evelyn. There’s a sale at the Coach boutique I want to hit.”
Evelyn looked back to the stones filling her hand, now warm from her own body heat. “Um, okay. Just let me get Dugan.” She pivoted and found their driver already approaching at the mention of his name. “Dugan, I’d like to buy these stones.”
Toni frowned at her, her face scrunching like that of a shar-pei. “What are you doing, Ev? All this stuff’s junk.”
Irrationally, a twinge of offense on the stones’ behalf filled Evelyn. Her embarrassment about Lucian’s sister on the vendor’s behalf was completely rational. Her fingers closed over the stones protectively as if to save their inanimate feelings.
“They’re pretty,” she said, slightly self-conscious of how uncultured she could be. There was so much about her she feared Lucian and his family would one day see as too weird to bother with.
Evelyn never had pretty things before Lucian. Clothes cost a fortune where he shopped, and she simply couldn’t fathom the difference between a two-thousand-dollar pair of shoes and a ten-dollar pair. She humored him when it came to her wardrobe, knowing it pleased him to provide for her and see her dressed in fancy things, but this was different. A stone didn’t have to be a diamond or a ruby to be pretty.