Page 37 of Connor

“There’s a gentleman here to see you. Says his name is Soren?” she asks, frowning, and I sit up, slightly shocked he’s here personally.

“Oh, sure, I’ll be right out.” I was expecting Soren to ship the crystals I needed, not come all the way to Whispers to hand-deliver them.

I walk out and spot him standing in reception with a few boxes at his feet. The receptionist is keeping a close eye on him, clearly wary of him since he’s new and not someone she’s familiar with. He does look totally out of place, yet doesn’t seem to care one bit. Skinny, too tanned to the point his skin is almost rubbery. Wispy long blond hair that’s thinning at the top. He practices what he preaches, which is daily yoga, a strict vegetarian diet, and a very hippie lifestyle. Which is completely at odds with the building he’s standing in.

“Soren,” I say, smiling in greeting, and he turns to me with a grin.

“Ahhh, good to see you, my dear,” he says in that borderline condescending tone he has. One which doesn’t seem to worry Mom at all, but it gives me the creeps.

“What are you doing here? I thought you would courier these ones, just like the last ones?” I ask him, looking at the boxes at his feet. This is my second crystal delivery from him already.

“I was in the area,” he says a little cryptically.

“You have other clients out this way?” I ask, confused. I don’t know him well. His relationship with my mother goes back decades, from her commune days, I think. But I know Dad doesn’t like him much, even though they have only met a few times.

“I visit the commune not far from here for deep meditation work. Your mother’s old commune, actually. Since I was coming this way, I thought I would drop them off.”

I nod, his words making sense. I have no idea about communes or how they work. But I do know the more traditional ones are usually out of cities and in places that are hard to find, unless you’re looking for them. But one thing about what he said bothers me.

“Mom’s commune? Where’s that?” I’m surprised, intrigued, and a little miffed that Mom didn’t tell me herself. She knew where I was coming and made no mention of knowing this area at all.

“Ohhh, it's buried deep. They’re isolated and don’t take kindly to strangers. But I call past once or twice a year to deliver goods they require and sit in silence for a week.”

I feel like he isn’t telling me something, but I leave it. That's Mom’s history, not mine, and if she wanted me to know anything about it, then she would tell me. She never really talks about that time at all, actually.

“Can I offer you a tea? Take you on a tour of the new spa?” I offer, because it’s a long way to come, and I’m sure he would like to walk around.

“I wouldn’t say no to one of your energizing teas,” he says, hopeful, and I smile, having received a big batch from Mom only a few days ago.

I help him move the boxes into my office, putting them with the others, and get busy with my teapot, my own little tea station already set up in my office, not dissimilar to the whiskey bars in all the others.

“How long was your drive?” I ask, making small talk. This is the most I’ve spoken to him ever, and it feels a little weird, if I’m honest.

“A few hours. Here, I got you this. A gift from your mother.”

I turn, passing him the tea, and see a large rose quartz now sitting on my desk.

“Oh, wow. That’s beautiful,” I say, in awe. It’s raw, which I love. Large, the pink color really strong and vibrant. I reach out to touch it immediately.

“It is. She knew the minute she saw it that she wanted you to have it.”

I melt at the generosity of my mother. It must’ve cost a fortune. I need to lift it with both hands, it’s that heavy.

“She wanted you to be surrounded by love, even though you’re away from her and your father,” he says, and I run my hand over the rough stone. I’m drawn to it, so I know that it’s a stone I’m very much in alignment with already.

“She’s too kind.” I need to call her to thank her for it all.

“Daisy, I—” Connor starts as he walks into my office with his head down, looking at some paperwork before he stops short. “Sorry, I didn’t realize you were with someone.”

“Ohhh, the energy is strong with this one,” Soren says under his breath, just loud enough for me to catch.

“Connor, this is Soren. He’s the supplier for all our crystals, some herbs, and a few other things that we use at Sunshine and now at the distillery.” I introduce the two men, who couldn’t be more opposite.

“Connor Whiteman,” Connor says formally, stepping forward with his hand outstretched. Dressed impeccably in his suit, full business mode activated, it feels like he takes up all the oxygen in the room, his large physique almost domineering in a way.

Soren looks at him, then his hand, before shaking it somewhat lukewarmly. “Soren.” I notice he doesn’t offer a last name, and to be honest, I don’t know what it is either.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt. Clearly, you’re in the middle of something,” he says to me quickly before looking back at Soren. The two of them are definitely on edge, the temperature in the room changing as Connor looks at Soren suspiciously. I assume it’s because Soren is a man in his distillery whom he’s never met before.

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