Saving Savannah - A Reverse Harem Romance, page 6
Gus stood stock still for a moment, then nodded silently.
“You get the fuck out of my shop,” I said coldly, “and you never come back. I mail you the rent, on time, every month. The real rent. Not the bullshit add-on rent you tried pulling just now.”
My landlord nodded again. His mouth seemed to form the words: “O—Okay.”
“In return, I don’t go around to the other properties you’re running here and tell everyone what a perverted shitstain you are. In short, I keep my mouth shut about that.”
Gus let out what could’ve been a relieved sigh. It also just could’ve been him starting to breathe again.
“Oh, and I will be visiting the other tenants, too,” I added. “Don’t think I won’t. I’m going to ask them if you’ve increased their rent last minute, like you just tried to do with me. And if you do…” I shrugged one shoulder. “Well, then we’re back to the original ‘no deal’ scenario. And that’s when things get really messy.”
“You… you don’t have to—”
“I’m talking police involvement, Gus,” I snapped, cutting him off. “Sexual harassment charges. Civil lawsuits. Maybe you’ve done this already with other people, and—”
“Okay, okay,” Gus said, putting his hands up. “No rent increase. I’ll take off. Everything’s cool.” He cocked his head. “Okay?”
“No asshole. Everything’s far from okay.” I pointed at the door. “But for now, we’re finished. Right?”
Gus walked backwards toward the entrance, never taking his eyes from me. He reached the door just about the same time my first group of customers filed through.
“Hello!” I smiled sweetly, as Gus worked his way past them. Through my peripheral vision, I watched as he disappeared into the crowded street. “Welcome to the All-Seeing Eye…”
Sixteen
SAVANNAH
My first day back at work was a fruitful one. I read at least two dozen palms. Pulled off thirteen individual tarot card readings. There was no time for lunch, no time for a break. It was just me, the shop, and the throngs of eager customers who spent their free time rummaging through my wares while their friends and family sat down at my reading table, in the back.
I hadn’t worried about shoplifters before, but after my bluff, I began wondering if I really did need cameras. Not that it would really matter. By the time I figured out someone actually clipped something, they’d already be hours gone.
Instead, I focused on my work. On the distinct lines and types of hands that made people different, and the questions they brought to the tarot deck, seeking answers. I gave people what they wanted of course, but I also gave them the truth. I didn’t distort the meanings or hide any unfavorably bad turns, but I could embellish the good and send them away feeling happy and satisfied.
I was nowhere near as talented as my grandmother, but I was adequate enough. If she were here though, she’d chastise me for not offering other services as well. For example, I could do Reiki healing. Crystal therapy. I could offer after-hours sound bath meditation classes, and make an absolute killing off of it.
In truth, I didn’t believe in any of those things. Maybe the meditation to some degree, but the rest, as far as I was concerned, was all hocus pocus. I wasn’t out to rip people off, or sell them something I didn’t believe in. I stocked crystals because they were pretty — not because of their purported properties — and tarot decks so people could do their own thing at home. The rest of my shop was mostly aesthetic: shelf after shelf of trinkets and statues and tchotchkes. All pretty little things that people could buy and take home as souvenirs, to remind themselves of their spooky visit to Salem, Massachusetts.
By the time I locked the door for good, it was well past dark. The crowds had significantly wound down. Everyone was off to eat dinner or get drinks. Or maybe even jump on one of the many haunted tours, like the one Zane was offering.
Zane…
I’d been thinking about him all day. About our time in the back room, and our missed opportunity there. I felt bad ushering him out after the broken window. And about not calling or texting him afterward, to at least thank him for trying to help.
Hell, I’d been thinking about all three of the guys, and in more ways than one. I’d been hooked on the recollection of Erik’s strong, tattooed arms. Roman’s gorgeous bronze skin. Zane’s beautiful sky-blue eyes, as well as his boyish, roguish grin…
Was I depriving myself unnecessarily? Avoiding them for any particular reason?
You know why you’re avoiding them.
Of course I did. But that didn’t mean I was right, though.
I walked the shop in a circle, looking at everything I’d sold. I’d already made a ton of money, and most of it cash. That was another good thing about this business. It had been so long, I’d almost forgotten.
It’s just like the last one, really. Damned close.
That part was true. I was pleasantly surprised at how much The All-Seeing Eye resembled my last shop, right down to the finer details. Memories came flooding back. Fond ones, in which I’d built my last place from the ground up. That shop had started out with more humble and modest beginnings, unlike this one. But in every other aspect, it was pretty much the same.
The thing I remember most was the pride of accomplishment in opening my old shop. For the first time in my entire life, I’d been on my own. Financially self-sufficient, to the point where I needed no help from anyone else.
It was rough going at first. I’d eaten from cans for months at a time, and even lived out of my car. But gradually things progressed. My first profitable paycheck. My first apartment. The one and only place I’d lived by myself, without having to share it with anyone else.
Until now.
I counted out my cash again, then deposited most of it in the safe I’d lag-bolted to two of the studs in the back room’s wall. I was jazzed up and wide awake. Still on somewhat of an accomplishment high, despite the long day.
Back in the main area, I scanned my shop one last time. Everything was perfect, everything in its place. Except…
Somehow, my phone found its way back into my hand. I grouped all three of the guys into one text message, then hammered out a single question:
Do you boys wanna come move my armoire?
I swallowed hard, feeling my pulse race as I hit the SEND button. Then I stared down at the screen, waiting for the magic to happen.
I didn’t have to wait long.
HUNK1: Is that code for something?
I smiled to myself and gave them the same answer I had the first time, when they’d asked about pizza:
Could be.
Two other messages popped up, one right after the other:
HUNK2: Oh, it’s definitely code for *something.*
HUNK3: The princess finally speaks!
You looking for this to happen tonight?
Absently, I wondered what kind of can of worms I’d just opened. It was too late now, though. Couldn’t put the genie back in the bottle.
Not that I minded the genie being out of the bottle, mind you.
Tonight would be great, actually.
Unless you boys are afraid
of staying out late…
The little bubble indicating someone was typing flashed madly on my screen. Responses came through from all three of them:
HUNK1: Tonight’s perfect.
HUNK2: Works for me too, yeah.
HUNK3: Staying up late is my middle name,
baby. Unfortunately though,
I’ve gotta work.
I read the responses quickly, filing them away in my head. So Hunk3 was probably Zane. He was running tours tonight. But the other two…
HUNK1: You have dinner yet?
The very mention of food sent my stomach lurching. I hadn’t eaten all day.
No, actually. I’m kinda starving.
I sent out the message, figuring the die was already cast. Besides, I wasn’t in the least bit tired. The idea of going out to eat with the guys was especially appealing.
HUNK2: ‘Kinda starving’ is a treatable
condition. Shoot us the address,
we’ll take care of the rest.
My stomach did a slow roll again, this time flip-flopping between excitement and hunger. I couldn’t believe what was about to happen tonight. What could happen tonight…
Without over-thinking it, I punched in the address of the shop and hit SEND.
HUNK2: Be there in a few, hang tight.
HUNK1: Yeah. What he just said.
HUNK3: Kicking myself I can’t make it tonight.
But I call a solo-date raincheck.
Got it?
The last message came with a devil emoji attached. I replied with a thumbs-up emoji of my own, then the words:
Roger that, boys. Over and out.
Seventeen
ROMAN
“Damn, Zane wasn’t kidding. That thing’s a beast.”
The armoire stood well over six feet tall, and was wider than any one of us could get our arms around. It looked absolutely ancient. Almost like it had been there since Salem was founded.
“And you want this moved where?” asked Erik, scratching at his stubble.
“Into that corner if you can,” Savannah shrugged, pointing to a path she’d already made. “If not, I guess I can live with it where it—”
“Oh it’s moving,” I promised her. “One way or another.”
Her shop was every bit as amazing as Zane had described it, filled with an amazing mix of rich colors and intricate detail. I didn’t know much about the occult, or palm reading, or any of that stuff for that matter. But after one look at Savannah, I knew she belonged here. She looked comfortable and at home surrounded by all the strange things in her shop. Every bit the fortune teller — or whatever she was — even dressed in the plain white blouse and tight black jeans that perfectly accented her incredible ass.
She smiled at me, and my heart melted. My brain called up images of our night together, back in her apartment. How much in heat she was, writhing beneath us. For the better part of the week, it was all I could think about.
But now, seeing her here. Seeing her again…
I wanted to draw her, too.
“C’mon man,” said Erik. “Let’s get this done.”
He handed me one of our yellow lifting straps, and I bent to the task. A minute later we had the armoire in the air — all four legs off the ground. It cost us some grunts and groans, and I knew my back would be sore tomorrow. But we lifted it. Just enough for her to slide the dollies we’d brought along under the damned thing.
“Okay!” Savannah called out from beneath us. “Set her down. Slowly.”
Inch by quarter-inch, we lowered the beast until it was resting on our two best dollies. Even then, they were strained. The wheels looked like they could blast right off the boards at any second.
“Roll it with me,” I said. “Let’s go.”
Slowly, carefully, we moved the thing from one side of the shop to the other. When it was in place — and after Savannah had stepped back to make sure it was exactly where she wanted it — we lifted it once more, and finally set it down.
“Fuck…” Erik breathed when it was all over. “That was probably the biggest thing we’ve ever moved.”
“And it’s not moving again,” I laughed. “Not during our lifetimes, anyway. Let it sit in that spot for another three hundred years, or however long this place has been here.”
She thanked us, hugged us, then thanked us again. Just feeling her body, even for that brief moment, set every one of my senses alive.
“You guys still wanna eat?” she asked. “Dinner’s on me.”
Erik laughed. “No way. We invited you, remember?”
“Yes, but you did me a favor,” she said. “And a big one, too. I appreciate you coming here.”
“But—”
“No buts. I pay or we’re not going anywhere.”
I looked at Erik, who only smirked back at me. He fell backwards into a cool-looking chair, sinking into the cushions.
“Maybe we should stay here,” he said. “Order in. You could show us around. Or you could—”
“Screw that,” Savannah smirked. “I’ve been in this place all day. I want out. And I want food.”
She extended two hands, and Erik took them. He allowed her to pull him from the chair and in the direction of the door.
“You’re pretty persuasive,” I laughed. “When you want to be.”
“It’s a big part of my job description,” Savannah smiled, waving an arm around the room. She shrugged a shoulder. “Or maybe I’m just a girl who knows what she wants.”
“I like that in a girl.”
“Then you’re in luck,” she said, looping an arm through each of ours.
Touching her again was electric, as my body remembered hers. I wanted to bury my face in her hair. Feel the softness of her skin against mine. Belly to belly. Chest to chest…
She pulled us through the shop’s entrance, then locked the door behind her. She did it deftly, too. Like she’d practiced it all her life.
“Now take me somewhere good but not touristy,” said Savannah. “I’ve had enough of crowds for one day.”
Eighteen
SAVANNAH
“So I hear only one of you college hunks is actually in college…”
I made the statement from Erik’s couch, with my boots off and my legs up. It was warm here. Comfortable. Especially with a cold beer in my hand, and the two of them taking turns rubbing my feet.
Roman lifted one hand in answer. “Yup,” he said, digging the ball of his thumb into my heel. “Why? Does that surprise you?”
“No,” I shrugged. “Actually it’s pretty awesome.”
He laughed. “It will be,” he agreed. “At the end of next semester when I’m finally done.”
“What and where?”
“BA in Business Management,” Roman answered. “Boston University.” He didn’t look happy about it. “But with a minor in—”
“Zane did some community college,” added Erik abruptly. “But it never stuck. He’s too restless. The guy can barely stay in one place for very long, much less sit through a class.”
“Which is probably why he’s running through graveyards at midnight?” I laughed.
“Yeah. That, plus it pays cash.”
I groaned softly as Roman switched feet. Dinner had been fantastic: spicy Thai food, at some hole-in-the wall fusion place only the locals would know. I hadn’t eaten so well in a long while, as the guys flirted with me throughout dinner. Right now I was a happy girl.
“So you all live here?” I asked, looking around.
“He has a place near campus,” Erik said, jerking his head toward Roman. “But he’s here most nights.”
“I still share an apartment in Beacon Hill,” Roman explained. “Overlooking the river. I usually stay there when I have class in the morning.”
I took a slow pull from my beer. “But tonight?”
Roman looked down my leg and smiled. “Tonight I’m all yours.”
Erik cleared his throat on his way to the kitchen. Roman rolled his eyes and corrected himself.
“Okay, we’re all yours.”
The way he said it left little to the imagination. And my imagination was already quite busy.
“I see.”
It was one thing to fulfill a fantasy — to let yourself totally go during some sweltering hot, one-night stand. But now here I was in their apartment. Talking shop. Getting to know these guys on levels that went beyond the intimate. Well past the point of no-strings sex.
In a way it was reassuring. It was nice to know there was a lot more to my college hunks than just three big dicks. Beyond the muscle and manhood, they were regular guys with regular jobs. Regular problems.
Three hot guys who seemed to like me.
Is this really what you want?
Getting to know them seemed innocent enough. In all respects, it was a hell of a lot more innocent than what we’d already done together. Yet suddenly this was all getting very personal. And not only that, it was violating the one steadfast rule I’d made before settling down here:
No strings. No attachments.
“So, uh… when exactly do we learn about you?”
Almost on cue, Erik asked the question I’d been dreading all night. His eyes stayed glued to mine, even as he twisted the cap off a fresh beer and brought the bottle straight to his wonderful lips.
“What about me?”
Roman laughed. Erik just shook his head.
“I mean, look at you!” he said at last. “You’re a total enigma. Where’d you come from? How’d you get here?”
“Why does any of that matter?”
He shrugged noncommittally. “Well you’ve got a tremendous apartment, all to yourself. An amazingly-decorated shop in the center of town. You don’t have a husband or boyfriend, or even a single friend or family member that you’ve mentioned by name.”
“And you’re hot,” said Roman, pausing to raise his own bottle. “Shit, you’re breathtakingly beautiful. Let’s not forget that part.”
“And mysterious,” added Erik. “And judging by the sheer amount of brand new stuff you own? Probably rich, too.”
I shook my head and chuckled nervously. “Trust me, I am not rich.”
