Amplify

  “Oh. My. God!” she shrieks, ripping a shirt off the rack almost knocking the whole thing down. “I sooo love this!” She turns holding a cardinal red blouse in delight.

  I scrunch my nose. “It’s pretty.”

  “It’s beyond pretty, Sam. This thing is gorgeous and would do you justice tomorrow.” She holds the blouse up to my chest, stepping back to admire it. “Red means you’re powerful and energetic. Pair this with a black pencil skirt...smoking hot!”

  Jess has never had to worry about what she wears, she’s always had the perfect body for fashion. Being five-foot-eight inches tall and nothing but legs and boobs, she could wear a filing cabinet and make it look good. Not only does she have the body, but with the perfect hair and the bubbly personality, she is a walking supermodel. I, on the other hand, don’t have the money she has, and my five-foot-four body sure as hell can’t wear the things she wears. What would be a miniskirt on her would be closer to my knees if I wore it. Do I harbor some envy? Well, hell yes, who wouldn’t?

  Sensing my hesitation, she drops the blouse abruptly to her side. “Sam, you are starting your new job tomorrow. Don’t go in there with the same non-tasteful, wrinkled-at-the-bottom-of-your-closet, poor excuse for clothes.”

  I try my best not to laugh, “My clothes are tasteful, just not as fruity as yours.”

  “Samantha,” she whines, “you have to. You haven’t gone shopping in ages. It’s a professional place. Pajama bottoms and pink fuzzy slippers aren’t gonna cut it.” She knows me all too well. “Oh! Maybe you can find a handsome fellow, too,” she squeals, clapping her hands. “I dream of the day I hear your headboard slamming against the wall.”

  “God, Jess...can we say perv?”

  “I mean it, Sam, you haven’t dated anyone since Robbie. You’re a walking orgasm waiting to happen. I bet if you brushed up against a feather duster you’d explode.”

  “A feather duster?” I furrow my brows at her, and she shrugs like it was the best thing she could give me. “First, my orgasm-loving friend, I’m not walking around ready to explode. I’m fine. Plus, if you recall, I vowed that I’d never date another man unless there were instant sparks...fireworks, to be exact.”

  “You have to light the fuse first,” she quips. “Besides, not all men are like Robbie. Most men, when in love, don’t walk around with a stubby trying to poke holes in every girl. Habitual cheater. He couldn’t help himself.”

  “You’re making excuses for him now?”

  She jerks back like I just shot her, eyebrows pinched together. Of course she’s not making excuses for him. He was a worthless piece of shit. We dated for almost two years. I was blind and utterly in love with him. Then one day a beautiful woman with shiny ebony hair and deep brown eyes, showed up at my door. She was upset, crying, and looking for him. Come to find out, she was five months pregnant and Robbie was the suspected father. I was lost for words when she told me, completely floored. He had me totally fooled.

  When he came home, he found me and Sandy sitting on the couch together. He froze, face melted to the floor, and the color emptied away. He was cornered with no place to go but out the front door, which didn’t register in his peanut brain. He denied everything. Sandy left even more upset than when she arrived at my door. I felt bad for her, but after an hour of listening to him, I believed it. Everything was great until the next month. Then different girls, different excuses, and finally I got the proof I needed...a picture. After that, his words meant nothing to me, and I packed my stuff and left.

  It hurt like hell to walk away from someone I loved, but the betrayal of my trust stung the most. He begged me, even got down on his knees. Though I might have been blind to the situation, I sure as hell wasn’t stupid.

  “I’m a trained professional,” Jess says proudly.

  “Oh really?” I act surprised. “I didn’t know that twelve weeks of a psych course classified you as a trained professional.”

  “It only verified that I am awesome and don’t need a class to tell me that. So, are you buying this shirt or are my hopes and dreams for you going to crash down around me?”

  The red blouse is pretty, and after looking at the price tag, it will be the single most expensive piece of clothing I have in my small closet. “I’ll get it,” I try to sound unenthusiastic, but the truth is, I knew I was going to buy it the moment Jess pulled it off the rack...just don’t tell her that. Her ruffled feathers and pleading green eyes are my only joy when shopping. My focus.

  “Annndd the black pencil skirt?” she adds hopefully.

  “Yes,” I say, letting it out in a long sigh and rolling my eyes, still trying not to give away my excitement. I was doing good until the moment she started jumping up and down. Then all stubbornness on my side went out the window, and I started jumping with her. Can you imagine the stares from the other shoppers seeing two twenty-six-year-olds jumping like we’re ten?

  Jess grabs my shoulders and leans back, determination flaring in her eyes. “Any way I could persuade you into a mani-pedi?”

  “You have me shopping and now you want to pretty me up some more? Is there something you’re trying to tell me?” I joke.

  “Is that a yes?”

  One side of my lip curls into a lopsided smile, and I arch my brow. We’ve been friends since high school so she knows my facial expressions well. Before I can even respond to her, she pulls me in and hugs me then steps back with my long chocolate brown hair running through her fingers.

  She scrunches her nose, “Maybe get a haircut, too?”

  “Sooo...basically I need a total make over?” I chuckle. She’s not wrong, I need one. Who the hell knows when I had my last haircut?

  “Yep!” she says like a bird chirp, then turns sauntering toward the cash registers with my things in her hands, hips swaying side to side, confident and sexy.

  AVAILABLE NOW

  Slick

  ©2015 Kristi Pelton

  Snow was coming down in white blankets over the city. I slid my feet into my Uggs and opened the door causing a flurry of flakes to melt instantly as they swirled indoors. After pulling the door closed, my feet trekked forward in the deep snow crunching with every step. Four days had passed since I’d last checked the mail and well; this at least got me out of the house. Fresh air. Daylight. All good things. All things I needed.

  The stone encasing the metal box was slick with ice and a quick hit with my fist broke the thin layer sending ice into the snow below. My steamy breath filled the box first when I looked in and the pile of mail was bigger than expected. There were catalogs and mailers from companies I had previously asked to be removed from. I wanted no part of that life.

  A smile crossed my face as my feet found their way back through the silent powder and I spotted my second gas bill. This one would be more expensive than the first month and an anxiety settled through me wondering how much more. I shook off the worry...it didn’t matter. I was on my own. That was all that mattered. I’d make it.

  Then I saw it. Slick...my nickname on the mailing address. A gut wrenching shudder rippled from my shoulders, over my chest and down through my abdomen. The puffs of air that were involuntarily coming from my mouth before were no more. My breath had been robbed and the mail in my hand fell one item at a time as my cold, partially numb fingers wouldn’t cooperate to open the envelope.

  Four years had passed since I’d heard that name—but yet he was still every other memory in my head. That wasn’t true...he was every memory. Finally the paper tore at the top of the envelope.

  Slick- Hey stranger. Heard you’re tying the knot. Just wanted to say I hope you’re happy. I’ll be in Portland, Maine, Cincinnati, Ohio, Boston and Philly on the 11th, 12th, 15th and 17th. Not trying to cause problems. But here are tickets to each show if you want to come. I’d love to see you, Slick. Bodhi

  A pillow of steam shot from my mouth when my knees buckled. As I fingered through the tickets, I internally cussed myself for not checking the mail four days ago. What was the dat
e? Had I missed them all? My phone was inside and I somehow found a way to stand and frantically get indoors. What was the damn date? Silent tears began to streak my face as I searched for my phone.

  But then as if reading my mind, it rang and I stood still listening for the sound. Desperately, I dug through the blanket that had covered me earlier until my phone fell.

  “Dad!” I screamed.

  “Honey, what’s wrong?”

  “What is today?”

  “ It’s Thursday. What’s wrong, Tessa?”

  “No. The date. What is the date?” I cried.

  My lungs restricted, holding the breath I had taken in, anxiously waiting for her response.

  “It’s the 14th. Tessa Faith. What is wrong with you?”

  I hit the red end call button as my head spun. I didn’t want to talk to him anyway. The floor angled upward and I stuck my hand out to push it away. I didn’t understand why the floor suddenly tilted. Something was off. I felt funny...then pain radiated through my wrist when it made contact with the floor and as I rolled over onto my back I realized I was passing out...my eyes closed.

  Chapter One

  Four years earlier...

  Disgust settled over me as I fell into the coach seat of the airplane. I'd never flown commercial, but I’d heard Southwest was the most fun. So, here I uncomfortably sat in the second row with nerves on end, not engaging any eyes as other passengers walked past—hoping no one sat next to me. The Vogue magazine I’d flipped through three previous times, I picked up again, thumbing through it page by page—looking immersed in it.

  “Somebody sitting here?”

  The deep voice drew my eyes to his shoes first. Gray well-worn vans. VANS! Not Gucci or Salvadores or even...Sperrys or Polo...but Vans. My eyes skidded up his grungy jeans and I shivered at the thought of him sitting next to me. Then I saw the gross bearded guy behind him. The Van’s guy’s blue eyes were nice enough so I moved my purse that I strategically placed in the seat next to me earlier.

  “No.” I shrugged and shifted my disgusted eyes back to the clouded window. Daddy’s jet windows were much clearer.

  Other passengers filed past and then the flight attendant started instructing us on what to do and pointing out the exits in case of emergency.

  “You seem nervous.” There was that voice again.

  After a quick glance his way, I flashed a fake smile but no words.

  “You ever flown before?”

  “Yes,” I said quickly as the plane began to taxi out.

  The Southwest attendant was singing a tune about putting the oxygen masks on who you love most first and it made me giggle. My flying partner laughed too and while adjusting his seat belt, I caught a peek of him out the corner of my eye.

  His near black hair was longer and covered one eye until he flipped it backward with a flick of his head. He didn’t look like the boys I’d grown up with.

  “You live in Oregon?” he asked.

  The question made sense given that we were taking off from Portland.

  “No.”

  “Where’d you come from?”

  “Massachusetts.”

  He nodded. “Nice.”

  The plane had come to a stop jerking us a bit; a small gasp escaped my lips.

  His touch surprised me and my rounded eyes shot up to find laughter in his. As he pried my fingers off the armrest, he mockingly held my hand.

  “No need to white knuckle it.”

  My hand fit in his and the touch caused my stomach to flip flop. I’d never really held hands with a guy before. Especially not one I didn’t know. He squeezed it gently as the plane left the ground...the noise unbearably loud.

  “I get the whole don’t talk to strangers bit but it may just make our two hour flight go a little faster. So tell me girl who keeps giving me disgusting looks...what are you 16? 17?”

  “I’m 18,” I lied. I would be 18 in a few months.

  “How about a little 20 questions to keep us occupied?”

  “What do you mean 20 questions?”

  His eyes widened a little. “Like I’ll ask some and you ask some.”

  The plane was still angled gaining altitude and the feeling of take-off always caused my heart to flutter.

  “What’s your name?” he asked squeezing my hand.

  I glanced down at our still connected hands.

  “Tessa. Tess,” I corrected.

  “I’ve never met a Tessa or a Tess. Hi, Tess. I’m Ty.” He squeezed and shook the hand he was already holding.

  I couldn’t help but laugh.

  “Ah. She has a smile.”

  He stared at me for a moment then asked, “Shall I ask another question?”

  I suppose this could be fun. I bit down on my lip and nodded. I’d only talked to two other guys like this.

  “So 18 year-old Tess from Massachusetts, where do you go to college?”

  “Princeton,” I said too quickly to cover myself from the earlier 18-year-old lie. I’d never see him again. What did it matter? I was going to Princeton...in a year.

  His brows shot high on his forehead. “Princeton, eh?”

  I nodded a little intimidated by his stare.

  “Tessa has money or is brilliant. Which is it?”

  “How old are you? Where do you live? Do you go to college?” I finally asked—questions spewing out of my mouth.

  He shook his head with a subtle laugh. “Let’s see if I can keep up. I’m 21. Laguna Beach and nope. I’m a musician.”

  There was something sexy in the way he said musician...maybe that he took pride in his profession. I longed for that confidence.

  “Graduated from San Clemente high. Played in a band for the past two years and hope to someday make it big.”

  “San Clemente?”

  “California. You know, the state this plane is headed to. Biggest and best state in the nation.”

  My narrowed eyes zoned in on him and he squinted right back.

  “Ok. Texas may be bigger,” he added.

  “Um. How about Alaska is the biggest.” I corrected.

  We both laughed when he shrugged.

  “So you’re from California?” I asked.

  “Born and bred.” He flicked his hair away from his face again and smiled. “Your first time to Cali?”

  “No. I have an uncle in San Francisco.”

  “First time to Southern Cal?” he asked.

  “No. I have an aunt that lives there.”

  A doorbell sounded and my eyes darted out the window.

  “What was that?” I asked looking to my newfound friend for an answer.

  He held up his finger as if he knew the flight attendant was going to speak. A quick murmur played over the plane—something about turning on electronics and reaching 10,000 feet. When she was done, he smiled.

  “For someone who claims to have been several places, flying sure makes you nervous.” He ran his middle finger along my palm. “You’re sweating.”

  My abdomen tightened at his touch. That had never happened before and I jerked my hand away.

  His chuckle confused me. “Have you not been to those places?”

  “I have,” I defended. “I’ve just never flown commercial.”

  A loud, obnoxious laughter bellowed out from him and the couple across the isle glanced over at us.

  “Why is that funny?” I whispered.

  After raking his hand through is black strands, he clapped which made the same guy across the isle jolt in his seat.

  “Ding Ding Ding! The verdict is in. Tess may be smart but she definitely has money.”

  This was new to me. Where I came from, everyone had money. At the prep school, I wasn’t even the wealthiest.

  My eyes hardened. I didn’t engage in this conversation to be made fun of. Instantly, I flipped my own brown hair and turned back toward the window.

  “Oh come on, Tess. That wasn’t difficult to figure out. Princeton. First time flying commercial.”

  I may not have been
around a lot of guys but I knew enough to know that pouting wasn’t attractive. So I slapped on my best fake smile and found him with my eyes. He was actually pretty good looking.

  “OK, 21 year-old Ty, from Laguna who doesn’t go to college. This is my summer of fun. My holiday getaway. I am coming to California to have a little fun and right now you are closely bordering on ruining that. I know one person in California and that’s my cousin. I thought for a moment, I might know 2 people but sounds like money might be an issue for you. Is it?”

  His blue eyes widened so big I could see whites all the way around them. A slight hint of a smile touched the corners of his mouth.

  “You have the cutest little accent. And your money, however much it is, is no issue for me. I think you’d be fun to hang with. I hang with wealthy people too. Where does your cousin live?”

  “Between Newport and Laguna.”

  “Is she as pretty as you?” he asked.

  Elle was ten times prettier and she really was 18 and starting college this fall.

  “Prettier.”

  He pursed his lips. “Whatever. So does this mean I get your phone number?”

  For some reason, he seemed trustworthy. “Hmmm. I’ve known you for like thirty minutes. You could be some creepy stalker guy.”

  He shrugged. “You’re right. I’ll give you mine and if you want to be some creepy stalker girl then you can have at it.”

  We both laughed as the flight attendant came by and handed us both some peanuts.

  “Bet you don’t get these on the private jet,” he teased.

  I flipped the little blue bag of peanuts over examining both sides then handed him my bag. He took it, tore the side and dumped the contents in his mouth.

  “These are damn good,” he said chewing rather disgustingly.

  I crinkled up my nose.

  “May I get you two a drink?” the lady asked like we were a couple.

  “I’ll take a Dr. Pepper if you have one please.”