Chapter 1
Roxanna Kent shivered as a passing firefighter swirled the air up past the hem of her thin, satin nightgown. An EMS worker had given her a blanket, and a two-sizes-too-large pair of slippers for her bare feet, but they were no match for the chilly Colorado October night—even with the blaze raging through her apartment building across the street.
Strangely, she didn’t feel the cold, even though she was aware of her body shivering and the occasional chatter of her teeth. Numbness had set in once the last of her neighbors escaped the smoke-filled halls. If she hadn’t woken from her dream, heart pounding in terror, the phantom smell of smoke choking her despite the crystal clear air in her bedroom, would she have still made it out alive? Who would’ve been there to make sure?
No one.
Surrounded by firefighters, police, EMS workers, fellow homeless apartment residents, and a multitude of onlookers, she’d never felt more alone in her life.
“Excuse me?” A hand on her blanket-wrapped shoulder drew her around to see a blond woman wearing a Red Cross jacket. “Do you have someone to call? Or can I call for you?”
“Um…” The one person—well, make that both persons—she would’ve called were out of town. Her best friend, Asher, and his fiancé, Honor, were in Hawaii on a photo shoot-slash-engagement trip. She turned her head back toward the fire. “My phone is still in there. I don’t know the numbers.”
She hadn’t even thought of it when she woke from her dream. Premonition, she now realized. Even though she hadn’t had one that strong since she was nine, it was a good thing she’d listened to her gut and gone out into the hall. She’d only wanted to reassure herself the phantom smoke was a figment of her imagination so she could get back to sleep. Instead, she’d discovered it was all too real and hurried to pull the fire alarm.
After that, everyone worked together to make sure no one was left behind as flames spread frighteningly quick. There had been no time to go back for anything, which meant her phone was likely melted on her nightstand by now.
The hand on her shoulder gave a gentle squeeze. “We’re setting up a shelter at the community center for anyone who needs it. Volunteers are giving rides right over there.”
Roxanna blinked and looked in the direction the woman pointed. She saw a few of the neighbors from her floor getting into cars. Some of them had managed to grab personal items, but she’d have to go see what she could find from her shop before she—
Ooh, the second floor apartment. Asher owned her retail building, and he’d always told her she could use it if she needed to. She’d never needed to—until now.
She managed a weak smile of something close to relief. “Thank you, but I have a place to stay.”
The blond pressed a card into her hand. “Call if you need anything.”
At her nod, the woman moved on to a family huddled together in blankets. Roxanna roused herself out of her stupor to take stock of what she needed to do. Get over to Lift Your Spirit, pick out some clothes from her inventory, then head upstairs for a hot shower. The smoke smell infused into her hair was strong enough to tighten her throat and make her eyes sting.
She searched for a way to get through the chaos to the back of the building where her Jeep was parked until she realized she didn’t have her keys, either. A couple of shaky inhales kept her from bawling right there on the sidewalk and got her mind thinking. She kept a spare set at her shop, but she couldn’t walk the two and a half miles in slippers and a satin nightgown, so she’d need to call a—
Nope. She had no money.
Damn. Now the sting in her eyes wasn’t only from the smoke.
Swiping the tears from her face with one hand, she walked over to the volunteer staging area. A few minutes later, a black man named Leonard in his fifties, maybe early sixties, opened his passenger door for her.
“Thank you so much. I’m Roxanna.” She slid in with a grateful smile, and once he was in his seat, she directed him to Lift Your Spirit.
About halfway into the ride, he said, “I think that’s the psychic shop my granddaughter brings me cupcakes from every so often. Is that your place?”
She nodded as country music played softly on the radio. After barely two minutes of sitting, emotional and physical exhaustion were taking over.
“She brings me those chocolate covered cake balls, too,” Leonard added. “They’re very good.”
“The cupcakes and the cake balls are Honor Hartman specialties.” Her best friend’s fiancé had started making the cake balls to use up her cake scraps, and customers had gone crazy for them. “Her cake shop next door to me will be opening in a few months.”
“I’ll make sure to watch for it.” He turned off Aspen Street to drive around to the back of the building. It was almost three a.m. when he braked outside the back door of her shop.
“Thank you so much for the ride, Leonard,” she said as she opened the passenger door.
“Are you sure it’s okay for me to leave you here?” He ducked his head to look at the alley as a slight frown drew his gray eyebrows together. Other than a black SUV and an older, white, four-door car, the back parking lot was deserted at this time of night.
“There’s an apartment upstairs. I promise, I’ll be fine.”
“I’ll wait until you’re safely inside,” he advised.
Her heart warmed at his concern. “Thank you. You and your granddaughter are welcome to come by anytime for a free treat. Or even a reading.”
“I don’t do this to get paid back,” he protested.
; Her senses were way out of whack with everything that had happened, but a moment of focus revealed the orange tones of his aura, confirming his generosity and kindness was genuine. “I know. And I’m offering simply because I want to. Get home safely yourself.”
They shared a brief smile before she turned to punch in the key code to unlock the back door. Thankfully, Asher had installed them on all the entrances when he first bought the building six years ago, so she didn’t need a key.
The light blinked red, and she leaned her forehead against the cold metal of the door for a moment. She’d changed the code after a break-in attempt a few weeks ago, and it took a moment for her tired brain to recall the numbers.
47835
The light switched to solid green and the lock clicked. Energy saving motion lights came on in the outer hall as she stepped inside. With a final wave for Leonard, she shut the door and used the same code for the lockbox into her shop. From here in the back, she could see the soft, comforting illumination from the Himalayan salt lamps in her front windows and throughout the floor displays.
From one heartbeat to the next, the orange glow flashed her back to the fire, and her heart leapt into her throat with her sharp inhale. Smoke clung to her hair and clothes, filling her lungs as she tossed the blanket on a chair by the door of her reading room. Habit had her reaching out to graze her fingers over the stings of beads across the doorway when she spun around, and the comforting musical tinkle of sound followed her into her office-slash-storage room.
Thinking of her car keys, she frowned at the unorganized chaos on her desk and surrounding surfaces, not quite sure where to start looking. Folders and papers were piled all over the place, with one precarious stack reaching almost two feet high to the left of the computer monitor. After her accountant got married and moved out of state last month, she kept meaning to clean and organize, but with so many other things to get done, it was hard to find the time.
You don’t make the time.