Page 5 of Rugged Soul

CALISTA

“Are you absolutely positive you don’t want to join me and Harry in New Mexico? The hot springs here are incredible. The water here has healing properties, you know. Plus, bathing in nature helps renew a connection with Mother Earth.”

“Sounds like you two are having a blast,” I tell my mom over the phone as I wipe down the counters in the latest property I’m showing Mr. Domino. “But I’m enjoying my job. Really.”

“Honey…”

I sigh, knowing there’s no use lying to my mother.

“Fine. Things have been a little stressful. I have my first client but I feel like I have no idea what I’m doing. I thought there would be more training or at least I would tag along with another agent to learn the ropes a bit before flying solo.”

“I get it, Calista. That’s why I was worried about you settling down and getting a normal job. I had exactly one desk job when I was twenty and I hated every second. I felt my soul withering away. It took me years to find my spark again.”

I nod even though I know she can't see me. I love my mother with all my heart, but we're two very different people. She's been telling me horror stories of her one month working as a bank teller for the last twenty-two years of my life. It's well-documented that Francie Rink isn't a pencil pusher and she has no interest in climbing up the corporate ladder.

“My soul isn’t withering, I’m just overwhelmed,” I tell her. “But that’s to be expected for my first sale. I’m just happy that I finally passed my final test and have the opportunity to prove myself at work.”

“Oh, that’s right! Your test! I’m sorry I forgot about it, hun.” My mom pulls the phone away from her ear to shout at Harry about passing my test. I hear a muffled congratulations in the distance, which brings a smile to my face. They are both well-meaning and I know they care about me. However, neither one is good at remembering important dates or checking up on the little things in life. “That’s great, we’re so proud of you!” she says back into the phone.

“Thanks, guys. I should let you go so I can finish getting this property ready. I’ll call you tomorrow?”

"Sure. Oh, wait, we're leaving for Arizona tonight for a jewelry showcase in Mesa. I told you I started making agate rings, right? Harry found a place to set up a booth and sell them! Isn't that exciting? I'll call you when we get back. It might be a few days. Or a week. I'm not sure."

“Have fun!”

“I always do, sweet girl. Love you!”

I hang up the phone and shake my head. Classic Francie. My mother is what most people call a free spirit. She follows her heart and leads with her emotions. Has she had her heart broken? At least a hundred times. But she’d say she comes back stronger and more in love with herself and her journey each time.

Growing up, my mom went through a lot of different phases. She became a yoga instructor for a while, then picked up shifts at an animal shelter where we ended up adopting three cats and a dog before they finally told her she had to leave. My mother is an ordained minister thanks to an online seminary and a two-hundred-dollar certificate sent in the mail, and she's a certified beauty technician as well. Then she got into tarot cards and did readings for twenty dollars a pop.

Of course, for each phase, there was a man who encouraged her and financially supported her every whimsical dream. It was fun and magical at times, but I've always wondered what it would be like to stay somewhere long enough to get to know your neighbors.

Focusing back on the task at hand, I take a final look around the large kitchen and nod. I’m confident Mr. Domino will be happy that this one is complete and won’t require any customizing.

A smile spreads across my face when I think about his one-word responses and grunts. Then the man went and shocked me with his wink and his whispered promise to keep my secret. There’s no way someone like him was flirting with me or found any interest in me romantically. He’s freaking hot as hell with his hazel eyes, strong nose, long lashes, and slight stubble dotting his sharp jawline.

And then there’s his body. The man is all muscle, yet he carries himself with a subtle, controlled grace. From my one meeting with him, I can tell Mr. Domino isn’t some meathead jock. He’s strong and bulky, yes, but there’s something about him that’s warm.

Or maybe I’m just as caught up in my emotions as my mother. I always thought I’d do things differently when it came to relationships. I have zero experience seeing as I’ve had zero opportunities to stay in one place long enough to catch feelings for a guy.

I was always with my mom on her next great adventure, switching from one school to the next until high school when she finally decided to homeschool me. Well, more like RV-school me from the road while we took a cross-country road trip to promote my mother’s self-published autobiography. To say life was a constant whirlwind of overstimulation would be accurate. It was also transient and lonely always being the new kid and then eventually withdrawing from my peers altogether.

The rumbling of a motorcycle startles me from my thoughts. I assume it’s Mr. Domino and I make my way to the front of the building to let him inside. When I open the door, I don’t see my client. Instead, the roaring of several engines fills the air, and I watch as three, four, five bikes creep along the frontage road bordering the property.

My heart hammers against my chest and I grow lightheaded as they approach, each man taking the time to look me up and down before speeding away. The last motorcycle in the line stops. The large man puts his foot down to steady his bike, the engine still rattling away and kicking up exhaust. He stares at me and I notice he has a black eyepatch with some kind of logo or emblem outlined in white. He’s too far away for me to read what it says and I’m frozen in place right now, so there’s no chance in hell I’m moving to get a closer look.

The man tips his head up, letting me know he sees me. I feel marked in a way, like there’s a bounty on my head. He speeds off in the next second, the revving of the engine so loud it’s almost painful.

I’m still shaking long after the rumbling sound has faded into the distance. It’s only when I see Mr. Domino coming down the road that I feel like I can breathe again. I knew he was part of a motorcycle club, hence needing the new clubhouse. I don’t have much experience with anything like that, but I didn’t want to assume anything negative. Now, I’m not so sure.

Still, I’ve never felt unsafe around Domino or threatened by him in any way. Grumpy, sure, but trustworthy.

I try not to gawk when the giant, six-and-a-half-foot slab of muscle with disheveled dirty blond hair and color-changing eyes steps off his bike, but I'm only so strong. Seriously, it's like this guy walked straight out of an action-hero movie set.

“Calista?” he asks, startling me a bit. He puts his hands up in front of him, palms out, in sign of surrender. It’s odd and kind of cute coming from someone who could snap my neck with his pinky finger.

“Mr. Domino,” I reply in my best professional-business-woman voice. “Good to see you again.”

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