The Scent of Jasmine Read online

  The Scent of Jasmine

  Lila Bruce

  The Scent of Jasmine

  Copyright © 2014

  About the eBook You Have Purchased

  All rights reserved. Without reserving the rights under copyright, reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or any other means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book. Such action is in violation of the U.S. Copyright Law.

  Unauthorized reproduction of distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  The Scent of Jasmine

  Copyright © 2014 Lila Bruce

  ISBN 13: 978-1310490118

  Original Publication Date: October 2014

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  Chapter One

  “What you need is a dildo.”

  The words cut through the nail salon like a knife, silencing all other conversation.

  “Not one of those little flashlight looking ones. I mean a real by-God dildo. Balls and all.”

  The stylist at the front nail station suddenly began to move in slow motion, filing the same finger very slowly, over and over. A customer at the front of the salon stood in front of a wall of polishes, a tiny red bottle now the most interesting thing in the world. The host of the Korean variety show that was blaring on the television that hung from the wall seemed to stop what he was doing and stare in the direction of the two women seated at the back of the shop.

  “I have a purple one. Big old beautiful thing. Would that I can find a man with one to match!”

  Grace sank deep in the cracked leather of the massaging chair, wishing that somehow she could become invisible. She cut her eyes at her best friend Kendra, seated in the chair next to her, and silently willed her to stop talking.

  “They make them in glass, but mine is made of this gel material. Feels just like the real thing.”

  It wasn’t working. Grace glanced down at the tiny, middle aged woman who was working on Grace’s cuticles. The woman was making a point not to look up or in any way acknowledge the conversation while at the same time hanging on every word.

  “Even has this suction cup...” Kendra flipped the page on the magazine in her lap, continuing her monologue, seemingly oblivious of the effect it was having on those around her. “I’ve never actually used it, but it is nice to have that option – you know to be hands free and all.”

  “Please stop talking about dildos,” Grace said between clenched teeth, darting her eyes around the nail salon. “You are embarrassing me.”

  Kendra looked up from the magazine and over at her friend. “Seriously? What, like no one here has ever seen the real thing? Please, Grace. To be a lesbian, you are such a prude sometimes.”

  Kendra turned her attention back to the magazine, making it a point to flip the pages loudly.

  “I’m not a prude. And what does being a lesbian have anything to do with it? I just think that there is a better time and place to talk about –” Grace stopped and glanced around the salon. “To talk about dildos,” she said, whispering the last word.

  Kendra closed the magazine and turned in her seat to face Grace.

  “When is a good time to talk about it? It’s been almost eight months since Emma walked out of your life. Eight months! If you are not going to make an effort to find someone else to replace the hussy, then the least you can do for yourself is to start thinking about your needs. And by needs I mean sex.”

  “Kendra, please. I don’t need to be in a relationship to be happy,” Grace said the words, not really sure if she believed them herself or not. It had been a long eight months since her fiancée…ex-fiancée now…had walked out on their two year relationship. Everything had seemed to be totally fine between them. They had just started to firm up the logistics for the wedding and had been bouncing around different locales for the honeymoon, when Emma abruptly packed up what clothes and personal items she kept at Grace’s house and moved out. A day later she sent Grace a text message stating that she had had second thoughts and just wasn’t ready to settle down. It’s not you, it’s me the text said. What hurt the most, Grace thought, was that she didn’t even have the nerve to break up in person.

  “First of all, I know you don’t need to be in a relationship to be happy. But seriously honey, you do need sex. That’s why I’m talking about dildos.” Kendra shook her head in disgust. “I don’t know why I even bother. You’re content to spend the rest of your life alone, pining away over someone who was obviously wrong for you. Have you even thought about getting back out and meeting someone new? No. She’s not worth it, Grace. You deserve to happy.”

  Grace closed her eyes and sighed. Kendra had been her best friend for almost twenty years now. She knew that Kendra was concerned about her, and on some level agreed with everything the other woman was saying, but the breakup with Emma was still just too raw for Grace to wash her hands and move on. She was about to open her mouth and explain that to Kendra when a soft, tiny hand tapped her on the calf.

  “All done now,” the pedicurist said in heavily accented English. “You want color today? Purple maybe?”

  Grace flushed and held back the desire to strangle Kendra with her bare hands.

  “No, not today. I think we’re done.” Grace smiled at the woman and then reached down to retrieve her shoes sitting between the two chairs. “Come on Kendra, let’s go.”

  Grace rose from the massaging chair and walked to the front of the salon, making a point not to look behind her. She paid the receptionist and stepped out of shop, looking around at the cars in the parking lot until she finally spotted the one that belonged to her. Kendra had flustered her so that she had forgotten where she had parked.

  “Do you want to go and get something for lunch?” Kendra stepped up beside and began to fumble through her purse looking for keys.

  What she wanted to do was go find a rock and crawl under it.

  “No. I really need to run by the grocery store before it gets too late. We’re having pot luck at the office tomorrow and I need to figure out something to bring. That and I’m out of cat food. If I come home without it, the cat will probably do me in. And I have about three loads of laundry I’ve been putting off. If I don’t at least get started on it today, I won’t have anything to wear to work next week.”

  Kendra ran a hand thru her short blonde hair and then placed it on Grace’s shoulder, looking her in the eyes.

  “Look, I really didn’t mean to upset you. I’m just concerned about you.”

  Grace smiled back at her friend. “I know, and I appreciate it. It’s just really hard, you know. It’s not that I don’t want to get back out there, as you say. It really hurt when Emma left and I don’t know that I’m ready to jump into another relationship right now.”

  “Again, I would refer you to the dildo,” Kendra said with a laugh. She hugged Grace. “Go on before the store closes. Call me tonight sometime.”

  “I will.” Grace waved goodbye and walked to her car. She sat in the burgundy sedan for several minutes, staring at the steering wheel and wondered how things had gone so wrong so fast. It seemed like one minute she was looking broc
hures for a Hawaiian honeymoon, and then next she was all alone.

  Graced sighed and nodded her head. Kendra was right. She did need to start picking up the pieces and moving on with her life. She did owe it to herself to be happy and enjoy herself.

  And just maybe step one on that road to happiness was shopping for a dildo.

  ****

  Grace barely made it to the grocery store when she noticed the dark clouds beginning to form in the sky above.

  Great. That’s all we need, more rain. It was April and in the South that meant rain. This April had especially been rainy, to the point where all attempts Grace had made to start this year’s vegetable garden in the backyard of her small house had been flooded out. By the time Grace had pulled off the main drag and onto the side street that would take her to the grocery store, the temperature had already begun to drop, a sure signal that the bad weather would be arriving shortly. I should be so lucky as to make it to the store and home before it starts, Grace thought.

  Her luck holding true, huge drops of rain began to fall across the windshield as Grace drove into the parking lot of the small, hometown grocery store. There weren’t many parking spots in the lot and almost all were taken. Grace drove up and down the aisles looking for a spot close to the store before finally settling for one about a hundred yards out. Thankful that she had not worn open toed shoes, Grace walked briskly across the wet pavement, sidestepping potholes that were steadily filling up with water. Finally reaching the store, totally drenched, she couldn’t help but notice the late model German sports car taking up two spots directly in front. Grace glared at the black car as she trudged past it and couldn’t help but grimace as she noted the out of state vanity license plate.

  “HOTSTUFF my ass,” she said aloud. The two teenage girls that were walking past her stopped for a second and looked at Grace sideways. Embarrassed, she quickly moved on and into the store.

  She pulled a buggy from a row stationed at the front of the store and headed towards the pet food aisle. It suddenly occurred to her that here she was alone, talking to herself, nothing to go home to but a load of laundry and a hungry cat. She was turning into a crazy cat lady. Grace nodded her head and took a deep, resolute breath.

  Definitely time to get back out there and start meeting new people.

  Chapter Two

  “The last thing I want to do is meet new people.” Jessica Taylor walked across the bakery kitchen, dismissing her brother’s suggestion.

  “I’m not saying you need to go start clubbing, Jess,” Brett Taylor didn’t look up as he continued what had become a common conversation between the two. “Just put yourself out there. Take a class. Join a club. Something.”

  “Really, Brett? Take a class? What, am I twelve?” She picked up a square container of berries sitting beside the sink and carried it back over to her brother. The older Taylor was covered in flour, pressing rounds sections of dough into small metal pie pans. “I see dozens of people every day. I don’t need to put myself out there to meet someone.”

  “What dozens of people to do you see? Customers? People at the grocery store? You know what I mean, Jess. You’ve been back in town for weeks now and the most ‘out there’ you have been is when you came with us to Rachel’s birthday party. I don’t think bowling with eight year olds really counts, do you?”

  Brett sighed and looked up at his sister. She was scowling back at him.

  He dusted her hands off on a bright green apron and placed them on his hips.

  “Look, I’m not nagging…”

  “Yes you are.”

  “No, I’m not. You know that if Mom were still around she would be saying the same thing.”

  “Don’t bring Mom into this.”

  “I will bring Mom into this, because she would want me to.” Brett folded his arms and began tapping one foot in irritation. “I think it’s great that you have moved back to town. Kim loves it, I love it, the kids love it – we all love having you here. You know you can stay with us as long as you need to...”

  “Is that what this is about?” Jessica interrupted him sharply. “I had no idea that I was inconveniencing you that much. I’ll check into a hotel until the remodel is complete. I can be out by the end of the week.” Jessica spun on her heels and began to storm off towards the front of the bakery.

  “Jess!” Brett called after her, “That is not what I was saying and you know it.”

  She stopped, but did not turn around.

  “All I mean is that you’re a young woman. You’re cute. You’re funny. You need to get out and meet people your own age. Have fun, enjoy life.”

  Brett glanced at his watch and shook his head.

  “Look, it’s almost time to open. I really didn’t mean to upset you.”

  Jessica turned and looked at her brother. She put one hand to her head and briefly ran it thru her dark brown hair.

  “You didn’t upset me. Well, ok you did. But I understand what you are saying. Part of the reason I moved back to middle of nowhere Georgia was to slow things down. Really, I’m good.”

  Brett picked up a wire rack and began to load it with the pie tins.

  “I know your good,” he said with a half-smile, opening the wide door of the oven that sat at the far end of the bakery. He slid the rack into it and turned a knob at the top. When he was done, he turned back and looked at Jessica. “Is it so wrong to want other people to know that too?” he asked.

  Jessica shook her head and walked back to the front of the bakery.

  “Let’s just move on, can we?”

  She didn’t wait to hear her brother’s response as she stepped out of the bakery kitchen and into the front. Jessica walked around the small but neatly decorated shop turning on lights and checking that napkin holders were stocked. She flipped a small orange switch on the coffee machine and soon the deep rich smell of roasted Arabica beans began to fill the room. She opened a door on the cabinet under the coffee machine and pulled out a handful of sugar packets, then arranged them neatly into a coffee cup sitting on the counter. When she was done she stopped and checked the time on the pie tin shaped clock that hung over the door to the bakery kitchen.

  Five minutes, she thought to herself.

  Outside the plate glass window he could see a few people begin to mill around, waiting for the bakery to open. She smiled and waved at them, motioning the time with her hands. About that time, Brett kicked open the kitchen door with one foot and walked in carrying a large metal pan loaded down with an assortment of baked goods.

  “I hope you have cinnamon rolls going back there, from the looks of things it’s going to be a busy morning,” she said to him, nodding towards the window.

  The older Taylor looked up from the display case where he had begun to lay out the warm muffins and pastries.

  “I’ve got them prepped but not baking yet,” he replied to her. Positioning the last pastry in the display case, he shut the glass door and headed back towards the kitchen. “It’ll be a few more minutes,” he said as he walked thru the swinging door, his voice carrying.

  Jessica watched as the door swung back and forth and thought about what her brother had said. It was true that since moving back home to Cedar Creek she had been talking things slow. Ok, really slow, she thought to herself. Still, after so many years away from the small North Georgia town, she was ready for the change in pace and just enjoying time with her family and what few friends were still left in the area.

  She stepped out from behind the counter and unlocked the front door, greeting the half dozen people that had been waiting as they filed into the store. The pies and cakes her sister-in-law baked were legendary amongst anyone who had ever had the good fortune to taste of them. When what started out as making the occasional cake or pie for the PTO sale developed into weekly orders from friends and friends of friends, she had decided to take a chance and make the leap from stay at home mom to small business owner. It was a decision that certainly had paid off. The small space the couple leased o
n the corner of Main Street saw a steady stream of customers come thru the doors looking for a taste of baked good heaven.

  “Good morning Jessica,” a sixty-something year old woman in a pink windsuit and overly blonde hair said. “How are you this morning?”

  She smiled back at her from behind the counter. “Just fine Miss Heath, just fine. What can I get you this morning?”

  Four years ago she wanted nothing more than to leave Cedar Creek in her rear view mirror. Fresh out of the local community college, she headed out West in search of a place where everyone did not know your name, who your parents were, who your first grade teacher was, who you dated in high school, and so forth. Now that she was back in town, a little older and a lot more world traveled, she found herself enjoying that once annoying part of small town living.

  “How about those cinnamon rolls? Do you have any of those this morning?” Miss Heath asked, surveying the assortment of baked goods in the display cabinet through her wire rimmed glasses. Cinnamon rolls not being present among the muffins, turnovers, and fruit tarts.

  “Not yet,” Jessica replied shaking her head. “Probably about another half hour or so on those.”

  “Hmm. Well, just give me one of those blueberry things and a cup of coffee then.”

  “Sure thing.” She reached into the case and pulled out a blueberry turnover, wrapped it up in white paper, and then handed it to her along with a brown paper cup. “Thanks Miss Heath,” she called as the elderly woman walked over towards the coffee station.

  She looked back to the next customer, who was already making inquiries on the reason behind the lack of cinnamon rolls in this morning’s selection. Jessica reflected to herself again on how it was nice to be back home, where life was quiet and the most controversial topic of the day was the apparent shortage of cinnamon rolls.

  Chapter Three