Sex and the Widow Miles (The Women of Willow Bay) (5 page)

I aimed the remote at the car and waited for two chirps before I headed toward the old brownstone building. The area didn
’t really seem all that bad—a little old and rundown, but not the ghetto, by any means. I bumped the shop’s door open with my butt, and as I stepped inside the warm interior, someone took the boxes from me.

“
You must be Carrie’s friend.” The redhead set the boxes on the floor next to a glass case and gave me a grin.

“
I am.” I extended my hand, feeling like an Amazon next to her. “Julianne Miles. Julie.”

“
I’m Sarah Everett.” She shook firmly, her tiny hand engulfed in mine. “I recognized the car.” She nodded to the boxes. “Is this everything?”

“
No, I’ve still got two more boxes and three garment bags in the car.”

“
Good God, woman, did you bring everything you own?” Atlanta was evident in her accent, but she didn’t have a deep drawl, barely a hint of the old South.

“
Seems like it, doesn’t it?” I couldn’t help grinning back; her smile was infectious. I was trying to make this gracious woman work with the tough broad I’d seen only moments before.

My confusion must have shown on my face because Sarah
threw back her head and laughed a rich delicious sound. “I’m not usually the hard ass you saw out on the street. But these butt-wipes come in here searching for their wives or girlfriends—the women they’ve been beating the crap out of—and they think I’m going to tell them where the poor chickies are? Fat chance of that.” She leaned over the counter. “Holly! I’m gonna go help with some boxes, get out here and man the register.”

“
Is he gone?” A very large black girl came out between the louvered doors behind the counter, timidly peeking around.

“
Of course he’s gone, sweetie, and he ain’t comin’ back, so unbunch your panties.” Sarah held her hand out, indicating for me to go through the door ahead of her, then followed me out to the Prius, talking animatedly as we walked. “That poor gal is scared shitless of any man that even passes by. I get it, we’ve all been there, but she needs to toughen up. She can’t be hidin’ in La Belle Femme the rest of her life.”

“
Was that guy after her?” I asked, opening the trunk on the Prius and handing Sarah a carton.

“
Nope, but she’s scared of anything with a pecker. She got worked over pretty good a couple months ago. Just got the wires taken out of her jaw last week.” Sarah looked askance at my shocked expression, but changed the subject as we each carried a box and the garment bags to the shop. “So what brings you here? Chicago in the dead of winter ain’t no vacation.”

“
I’m taking a break for a while.” I wouldn’t meet her frank stare.

“
Gettin’ away from all the memories of your dead husband?” Obviously Sarah Everett went for the blunt question.

I had to appreciate that about her because I was once that way myself. I nodded briefly.

“Sorry about that.” Sincere sympathy showed in her hazel eyes.

“
Thanks.” I smiled, probably a little wanly. “I miss him every day.”

“
Yeah? Well, nice you got one of the good ones.” Sarah shoved open the door and held it with her backside as I walked through it. “Too bad it couldn’t have my ex—he’s still roamin’ the streets.”

“
Charlie
was
one of the good ones.” I put the box on the counter and hung the garment bags on a rack nearby. I let my gaze roam the charming shop. Racks of dresses, suits, and blouses filled the big high-ceilinged room painted a soft sage green. Shelves of shoes lined the wall opposite a huge display window that let in streams of bright January sun. A white wicker settee and chairs and a table were placed cozily in the center of the room on a big delicately designed oriental rug. I could see dressing rooms on the back wall, curtained off with chintz. Ferns hung from chains in the window and a spider plant overflowed on a stand near the wicker. The ambiance was feminine, elegant, and homey all at once. “This is lovely.”

“
Thanks.” Sarah dropped her box on the floor and hung the garment bag next to mine. “It’s been a long haul and funding’s always an issue, which is why we appreciate Carrie’s hard work so much.” She glanced around. “Holly?”

The
young woman popped her head up from where she’d been kneeling by the shoe wall. “Yes, ma’am?”

“
What are you doing?”

“
Finding some shoes for Jeanie.” Holly stood up with a couple of pairs of black shoes in her hands. “She’s trying on an outfit for her interview tomorrow.” She motioned toward the dressing area.

A
young woman pulled aside the curtain in the first cubicle and stepped out onto the carpet in bare feet. She was dressed in a gray skirt and jacket with a pink blouse that tied at the neck in a bow. The skirt was mid-calf length and the boxy jacket had shoulder pads. The total effect was as if her grandmother had dressed her sometime in the eighties. She seemed right on the edge of bursting into tears.

“
Looks real good.” Sarah walked toward the woman, who was pretty in a low-key kind of way as she turned slowly in front a three-way mirror. Sarah went up behind her and pulled her long chestnut hair off her shoulders and held it back. “You need to tidy this hair, some, Jeanie.” She scraped the hair into a loose, low ponytail and secured it with a hair band that she had around her wrist. “There… very professional.”

Jeani
e reminded me of a cornered rabbit. Her gray eyes were huge and she stood, shoulders hunched and uncomfortable, in front of the mirror.

Sarah glanced back at me.
“What do you think?” She took a pair of low black pumps from Holly and tossed them down in front of Jeanie. “Here, darlin’, slip into these.”

I walked slowly back to the rear of the shop a
s Sarah turned Jeanie around to face me. “Good, huh?” She quirked a brow.

“
If she’s applying for a job at a convent.” I immediately regretted the comment. Sarah was trying to help this poor terrified creature and sure didn’t need any kibitzing from me. I opened my mouth to apologize as Sarah grimaced and Jeanie turned away, clearly chagrined. She stared at the mirror again, tears shimmering in her eyes.

I closed my eyes briefly and shook my head.
“Sorry, Sarah. I don’t mean she doesn’t look fine… but—” I felt incredibly foolish. “Sorry, it’s not my business.” I finished with a lame shrug.

“
So, what do
you
suggest?” Sarah gave me a cool stare as she crossed her arms and tilted her head.

I shrugged
again.

Sarah nodded.
“No, seriously. Tell us what’s wrong. You’re the big fashion model.”

Jeanie turned around
. “You’re a fashion model?”

“
I was once… not anymore.” I wanted to bolt. Carrie must have filled Sarah in more than she’d let on earlier. “I’m going to let you get back to work.” I backed away, bumping into a rack of blouses. “S—sorry… Nice to meet you… “

“
No.” Sarah caught my arm and gave me a lopsided grin. “I get bristly. It’s not you. We really
could
use some advice. Frankly, I don’t have an ounce of fashion sense. One of the few things old dickhead never could beat into me.” She winked as Jeanie and Holly both snickered. “Help us out, okay?”

I released a hesitant breath, my hands curling into fists at my side
, and tried to decide how honest I could be. Sarah asked for advice, but was it fair for me to take the poor kid apart? However, I knew exactly what would work for her and probably give her the confidence she needed. I glanced at the three of them clearly waiting for whatever gems of fashion wisdom I would impart and decided to go for broke. “Um… okay. First of all, never, ever that shade of pale pink unless you’re younger than twelve or older than seventy.”

“
Really?” Sarah’s brows rose.

I
gazed thoughtfully at Jeanie, standing there in front of the three-way, lost in that boxy jacket. Holly lurked around the edges as though she anticipated trouble, but Sarah gave me an expectant smile.

“
Hang on.” I trotted up to the front of the shop to my bags and boxes and rummaged through a couple.

Jeanie
appeared to be about a size six, although she wasn’t quite as tall as me. I tugged open a carton and sorted through it until I found a simple white silk blouse. Then I unzipped a garment bag and pulled out jackets and skirts and dresses.
Ah ha!
The brown tweed suit was the next-to-last item I pulled out—a simple brown and golden tweed jacket with a matching slim pencil skirt. The color would bring out the gold highlights in Jeanie’s hair and the jacket was short and fitted—perfect for her slim figure. The skirt might be a little long, but we could hem it in no time.

I
marched the clothes back to her. “Here, try this and tuck in the blouse.”

Jeanie
peered apprehensively at Sarah, seeking permission.

Sarah nodded brusquely.
“Get in there and put it on, girl.”

I hurried over to the shoe wall with Holly
close on my heels. “What size?”

“
Six and a half.” Holly pointed to the appropriate section of the shoe display and I scanned the rows of pumps, flats, and kitten heels. I pulled a pair of brown suede pumps from the rack and held them up.

“
What do you think, Sarah?”

S
he nodded approval.

I peeked inside
. Tory Burch—nice shoes. I passed them to Holly. “Accessories? Like scarves?”

Holly led the way to the front of the store
where scarves were attractively displayed from loops on a rack. I sorted through them, finally selecting a long, wide scarf in a deep gold, rust, and brown pattern. Rubbing the fabric between my fingers, I grinned at Sarah. “This is silk. And gorgeous. See how rich these colors are.” I shook it out and saw the square capital letters along one side. “Fendi! Sarah, you really do run a designer shop.”

“
Names don’t mean much to me, but yeah, we get a lot of expensive stuff in here. Most of our donations come from women with bucks, thanks to your friend Carrie’s influence.”

I scurried back to the rear of the store as Jeanie was coming out of the dressing room.
Stopping her, I lifted my arms, preparing to loop the silk piece around her neck a couple of times. With a screech and a sharp intake of breath, she threw her hands up and backed away. I glanced over my shoulder at Sarah, who hustled up next to the girl.

“
Jeanie, she’s not going to hurt you. It’s an accessory… a pretty extra for the outfit.” Sarah put her hand out and I laid the silk material in her palm. She held it out to Jeanie, who was practically cowering near the dressing cubicle. “See? Why don’t
you
put it on and Julie can tell you how to fix it, okay?”

Trembling, Jeanie reached for the scarf and hung it over her neck before straightening her shoulders and moving to the three-way mirror.

What in God’s holy name had happened to this poor creature?

I stood a yard or so behind her in the mirror and gave her instructions on how to loop the scarf. At last, she stood reflected three times in the mirror and each one was elegant, poised, and lovely. She turned this way and that until a small smile broke through the sad facade.

“You’re perfect!” Holly clapped her hands while Sarah nodded, her eyes shining approval.

“
Do you think it’s okay?” Jeanie’s voice was as soft as I’d expected it to be, and my heart ached at the tremulous smile she gave me.

“
You look like a million bucks, honey.” My fingers itched to do something else with her hair.

“
What about her hair?” Sarah must have been reading my mind.

“
It’s gorgeous. So thick and shiny. I’d say, let’s take the curling iron to it and let it tumble over her shoulders loose and natural.” I approached Jeanie with caution, locking eyes with her in the mirror. “May I?”

She nodded, but I could see a hint of uncertainty in her expression. Very gingerly, I unwound the band and fluffed her hair out over her shoulders.
“We could maybe use a barrette or something and secure one side. Or better, let’s tuck it behind your ears, like this.” I demonstrated. Her hair was heavy. It felt like spun silk in my fingers, and as I combed through it I could feel her shoulders relaxing. “You’re lovely, Jeanie, very professional,” I whispered, my voice catching in my throat.

“
Holly, why don’t you and Jeanie go up front and find a pair of earrings—something small and gold would be right, don’t you think, Julie?” Sarah’s eyes sent a subtle signal, so I nodded and turned Jeanie away from the mirror with a quick shoulder squeeze. She followed Holly to the jewelry counter.

“
What happened to her?” I was almost afraid to ask, but I had to know.

“
Her husband used to tie her to the bedposts with scarves or neckties and rape her, then beat the crap out of her when he was done.” Sarah’s voice held no emotion whatsoever, but her sad eyes said it all. “She came into the shelter so battered and bruised, you couldn’t even see the true color of her eyes.”