Chapter One
Katrina
“I don’t know, Gemma,” I say while teetering in the
pink shoes with the zebra striped heel. “I’m not really an
animal-print type of girl. And these things are loud .”
“Oh, get over yourself, Ms. Namaste . It’s Carla’s birthday. Let loose, have some
fun. Besides, we’re all wearing zebra with pink trim. If you don’t
do it you’ll look like a stuffy fuddy-duddy.”
I hide my grimace of distaste, uncaring what
people think of me if I stand out for not dressing up.
Gemma shoots me a dirty look. “Katrina—I
know what you’re thinking. And Carla will know, too. Didn’t she
help one of your customer’s daughters with Dress
for Success when the young woman needed clothes for a new
job?”
Damn, guilt works on me every time. I’m such
a sap that way. Especially when she’s right. Carla has been a good
friend to me, she even helped me move. The least I can do is not
complain about the silly party theme Gemma and Heather cooked up
for her.
“All right. All right. I’ll wear them.” I
sigh and take small mincing steps toward the mirror. It’s been a
long time since I’ve worn a short skirt and heels this high,
preferring the long flowing skirts and blouses I wear while working
the herbal shop. I have to admit, the shoes make my legs look
good.
Gemma smiles. “It’s about time you show off
the body all those long hours in yoga helped sculpt.”
I resist the urge to ignore her
complimentary words and force out a low “thanks.” I don’t practice
yoga to look good. I do it to be strong enough to meditate for long
hours after working in the shop all day. Gemma, Carla, and
Heather—the friends I met at the yoga studio over a year ago—do it
for the health benefits, so I don’t remind her of what they’ve
collectively called my ‘eccentricities.’
They don’t know the real reason I meditate
every day, and I’d rather keep it that way. Sometimes it’s
difficult to admit to a friend what you don’t even like admitting
to yourself. Plain and simple, meditating daily keeps me sane.
“Okay, chica, are we ready to roll?” Gemma
asks.
I turn back to the mirror and check the new
dark blue streaks in the bangs dangling over one eye. The blue
looks fun and hip. I’m glad I did it. “Yup. Let’s go.”
I lock the metal door to the mini-apartment
located in the back third of my store. It’s totally illegal for me
to be living here, but my newly limited finances don’t allow for a
business on this street and a place of my
own. Thankfully my friends don’t judge me, or maybe they just don’t
know zoning laws and decided to remain politely silent during my
move last month. Besides, it’s temporary—only until I get more
funds in the store’s accounts. Taking on all the new pharmaceutical
grade supplements, which are used in conjunction with prescribed
medication for various health concerns, really wiped out my cash,
but I have faith it was a wise move to upgrade.
We stride through the darkened aisles of
well-ordered pill bottles, herbal tinctures, powders, teas, and
various homeopathic remedies. Closing time on a Friday night is
eight o’clock, which was thirty minutes ago, and the last customer
left closer to seven.
“Did you get her a gift?” Gemma appears
concerned. She and Heather were so cute with their rah-rah emails
and texts planning this party. I would have been a total shit if
I’d forgotten or cheaped-out due to my tight budget.
I make a detour toward the counter and grab
the gift bag I set there earlier. “Yup.”
Her eyebrows rise in excitement. “What did
you get?”
I laugh and motion her to precede me out the
door so I can lock up. The moist humidity of summer wraps around
us, making me regret leaving the air conditioning of the store.
Hopefully the predicted thunder shower will hold off ’til tomorrow.
“I can follow directions, you know.” I
twist the key in the lock and punch in a code by the door, arming
the store alarm. This
Katrina
“I don’t know, Gemma,” I say while teetering in the
pink shoes with the zebra striped heel. “I’m not really an
animal-print type of girl. And these things are loud .”
“Oh, get over yourself, Ms. Namaste . It’s Carla’s birthday. Let loose, have some
fun. Besides, we’re all wearing zebra with pink trim. If you don’t
do it you’ll look like a stuffy fuddy-duddy.”
I hide my grimace of distaste, uncaring what
people think of me if I stand out for not dressing up.
Gemma shoots me a dirty look. “Katrina—I
know what you’re thinking. And Carla will know, too. Didn’t she
help one of your customer’s daughters with Dress
for Success when the young woman needed clothes for a new
job?”
Damn, guilt works on me every time. I’m such
a sap that way. Especially when she’s right. Carla has been a good
friend to me, she even helped me move. The least I can do is not
complain about the silly party theme Gemma and Heather cooked up
for her.
“All right. All right. I’ll wear them.” I
sigh and take small mincing steps toward the mirror. It’s been a
long time since I’ve worn a short skirt and heels this high,
preferring the long flowing skirts and blouses I wear while working
the herbal shop. I have to admit, the shoes make my legs look
good.
Gemma smiles. “It’s about time you show off
the body all those long hours in yoga helped sculpt.”
I resist the urge to ignore her
complimentary words and force out a low “thanks.” I don’t practice
yoga to look good. I do it to be strong enough to meditate for long
hours after working in the shop all day. Gemma, Carla, and
Heather—the friends I met at the yoga studio over a year ago—do it
for the health benefits, so I don’t remind her of what they’ve
collectively called my ‘eccentricities.’
They don’t know the real reason I meditate
every day, and I’d rather keep it that way. Sometimes it’s
difficult to admit to a friend what you don’t even like admitting
to yourself. Plain and simple, meditating daily keeps me sane.
“Okay, chica, are we ready to roll?” Gemma
asks.
I turn back to the mirror and check the new
dark blue streaks in the bangs dangling over one eye. The blue
looks fun and hip. I’m glad I did it. “Yup. Let’s go.”
I lock the metal door to the mini-apartment
located in the back third of my store. It’s totally illegal for me
to be living here, but my newly limited finances don’t allow for a
business on this street and a place of my
own. Thankfully my friends don’t judge me, or maybe they just don’t
know zoning laws and decided to remain politely silent during my
move last month. Besides, it’s temporary—only until I get more
funds in the store’s accounts. Taking on all the new pharmaceutical
grade supplements, which are used in conjunction with prescribed
medication for various health concerns, really wiped out my cash,
but I have faith it was a wise move to upgrade.
We stride through the darkened aisles of
well-ordered pill bottles, herbal tinctures, powders, teas, and
various homeopathic remedies. Closing time on a Friday night is
eight o’clock, which was thirty minutes ago, and the last customer
left closer to seven.
“Did you get her a gift?” Gemma appears
concerned. She and Heather were so cute with their rah-rah emails
and texts planning this party. I would have been a total shit if
I’d forgotten or cheaped-out due to my tight budget.
I make a detour toward the counter and grab
the gift bag I set there earlier. “Yup.”
Her eyebrows rise in excitement. “What did
you get?”
I laugh and motion her to precede me out the
door so I can lock up. The moist humidity of summer wraps around
us, making me regret leaving the air conditioning of the store.
Hopefully the predicted thunder shower will hold off ’til tomorrow.
“I can follow directions, you know.” I
twist the key in the lock and punch in a code by the door, arming
the store alarm. This
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