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Glamour: Contemporary Fairytale Retellings by AL Jackson, Sophie Jordan, Aleatha Romig, Skye Warren, Lili St. Germain, Nora Flite, Sierra Simone, Nicola Rendell (55)

Chapter Two

Lillith

“So help me God, if he even looks at me wrong, I will snap. I think there’s a legitimate chance someone will have to keep me from strangling him, Nikki. Gah…he’s so infuriating.” With my phone pressed to my ear, I tipped my face toward the sky and sucked in a few breaths of cold air as if it might stand the chance of cooling some of the anger still boiling in my blood.

Never had I hated a man as much as I hated Broderick Wolfe. That snarky, arrogant voice made my skin crawl. Of course, it was a voice I’d never actually heard. What was most frustrating was the fact that even in its silence it skated my skin like sex and sin.

No question, that was what this man was.

Sin.

Wicked and immoral.

Ten minutes ago, I’d left a meeting where we were planning exactly what strategy we’d take tomorrow when the big dogs from Wolfe Industries descended on our city.

I needed a few moments to vent.

My best friend Nicole laughed through the line. At least someone found some humor in the situation. “Oh, I seriously doubt you’re going to actually strangle him. You might have spent the last five months fantasizing about it, but I know you, Lily Pad, and you are the pillar of self-restraint. But if the stories are true and he’s as gorgeous as everyone says he is, you have been fantasizing about all the wrong things.”

The winter air was chilly, and I tightened the belt of my coat, my black patent heels clicking on the gray-bricked sidewalk that ran the quaint downtown street. I strode beneath the trees, their barren branches stretched over my head like a shield of protection. Rays of sunlight darted through the spindly limbs, creating a pattern of warmth on the ground.

Gorgeous old buildings rose up on each side of the street. Most of them were one-to-three stories high, the upper floors apartments and the bottom floors family-run and independent stores.

Many had been there since long before I was born.

So yes.

I could admit many were run down and in dire need of repair.

But that didn’t make the histories held within their walls any less important.

Our city had always stood for something—family and community and coming together when things got rough.

There were parades on almost every holiday, and our parks and lakes were meticulously maintained—a safe place where children could run and play—all thanks to the residents who devoted their time and efforts to make sure the public areas were cared for. And when someone was in need? Those same residents came together with fundraisers and food drives to help ease the burden.

That was something I would do everything in my power to protect.

“Believe me, Nikki. There is absolutely no fantasizing on my part other than imagining his complete demise. The man is an arrogant slime ball. I don’t care if he looks like Charlie Hunnam—I’m talking SOA here—I don’t want anything to do with him other than to run him out of town as quickly as I can.”

Nikki gasped as if it were the most horrific statement I’d ever made. “That is some serious hate, Lily. SOA? Are you sure you’re really going there?”

I sighed, and a tumble of nerves rolled in my stomach as I approached the storefront at the heart of it all. My gaze traced the plate glass windows with the store’s name and logo printed in white.

Tindall’s Thimbles.

“You think that hate is undeserved?”

Nikki hesitated, and I could almost see her chewing furiously at the tip of her thumbnail, as if she weren’t sure what to say. Her voice dropped. “Is there really anything wrong with revitalization? The city could use the jobs.”

A sigh filtered free. “Of course we could use the jobs. But you know this is different. They’re forcing this without consideration of the people who have been here all along. They’re steamrolling people out of their homes and out of business without a second thought other than the number of dollars that will line their pockets. It’s not as if they actually care about Gingham Lakes. You know the second they sign on the dotted line, they’re out of here.”

“You’re probably right.”

“If you were to read the emails I’ve shared with them, especially him, you’d understand, Nikki. This is all about the money. Any bullshit they’re feeding us about pumping fresh blood into the community is just that—bullshit.”

A tease made its way into her tone. “And we all know the bullshit stops with Lillith Redd.”

Memories of when I couldn’t see through people’s bullshit barreled through me, and I pushed out the words on a whisper. “God, I hope so.” I shook them off before I got too lost to them. “All right, I need to get inside.”

“Okay, but I’ll see you tonight at seven, right?”

Shit.

I’d forgotten about that.

“Of course,” I muttered noncommittedly.

I could almost see Nikki raising her eyebrow at me. “Do not bail on me, Lily Pad. You need to unwind. I don’t care how busy you are or what you need to prepare for, you are getting a night out. Do you understand me?”

I puffed out a breath. “Fine. I’ll be there.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Okay, see you then. Don’t make me show up at your office to drag your ass out.”

A short laugh rumbled free. “I wouldn’t dream of it. I’ll see you then.”

“Bye.”

I ended the call and slipped my cell into my bag. Sucking in a breath, I reached out and pulled open the door. A bell dinged from above, the light tinkle ushering in a thousand more memories.

The overwhelming relief I’d felt every time I’d stepped through this door.

The warmth and the comfort.

The hope when the only thing I’d felt was fear and defeat.

Movement pulled my attention to the far corner where an arch led to the back room filled with sewing machines and fabrics and tools. On the opposite side of the sewing machines were racks full of hanging garment bags waiting to be picked up by their brand new owners or to be reunited after a repair or tailor.

Addelaine all but floated out, the old woman willowy and thin. Hair long and silver. Grayed, blue eyes keen.

“Lillith, child,” she murmured through a tender, wrinkled smile. “It’s so wonderful to see you.”

Immediately, I went to her, wrapped my arms around her frail body, and hugged her close. She smelled like baby powder and cotton, the way she always had.

“Addelaine,” I whispered.

For a long moment, I clung to her before I forced myself to untangle from her familiar warmth. Even still, I reached out for one of her weathered hands. “Tell me how you’re holding up? Has anyone been harassing you? Have you received any more letters?”

Softly, she smiled. “I couldn’t be better.”

A frown pulled at my brow. “You don’t have to pretend for me, Addelaine. I can’t imagine the type of stress this has put you under.”

She touched my cheek. “Hmm…child…why do I get the feeling it’s you who is the one who is stressed? I told you before, whatever will be, will be.”

“And what will be is you staying put, right here, where you belong.” The words were out, strength behind them. I wouldn’t allow myself to fathom another outcome.

Her chuckle was slow as she worked her way back around the counter and began to sift through the orders she would start that day. “With you on my side? I have no doubt about that.”

“They come in tomorrow.” I glanced around the space. “The people who are trying to steal this building from you.”

I knew she wanted to hide it, but I saw the resigned fear that flashed through her features. “It’s going to be a fight.”

“A fight we will win.” I took an emphatic step forward. “We’re fighting for what’s right.”

Her smile was sad. “I’m the one who got myself in this mess, Lillith. How many years am I behind on my taxes? And now the mortgage has gone late? I’m the one who hasn’t been holding up to my end of the bargain. I took out that second mortgage thinking I’d be able to repay it, and you and I both know I just can’t. Sometimes it’s better to admit it’s time to let things go.”

If I had enough liquid cash, I would pay it off myself. But between the second mortgage and back taxes, the total was much more than I’d been able to get together. So, I’d settled on the one thing I could do—fight the battle through legal channels.

“Your family has been in this building for eighty years. You grew up here,” I told her.

Meaningfully, she looked across at me. “And so did you.”

I gulped around the emotion that threatened to seize my heart. “Yes.” I took a pleading step forward. “You saved me, Addelaine. You took me in when I had nowhere else to go. And I won’t stand for someone taking your home away from you, too.”

I fumbled over the counter and took hold of her hand again. “I promise you, I will do whatever it takes to ensure that doesn’t happen.”

She squeezed back, her eyes raking my clothing, my dress pants and heels. But most of her attention was on the coat I wore. The thick, red material sewn to become something solid.

A patchwork of healing.

I could still feel the pain in my fingertips as I’d struggled to work a needle into the coarse, heavy material when I was fifteen. I could still hear Addelaine’s voice in my ear as she’d coaxed me through it. Telling me all goals were achieved through some amount of pain.

When she’d whispered about growth and strength and had slowly but steadily helped to mold me into the woman I’d become.

She patted the back of my hand. “You’re a good girl, Lillith. You will always be the granddaughter I never had. Whatever happens, know you have made me proud.”

And that was exactly why I would do absolutely anything to make sure I didn’t let her down.

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