One Degree of Separation Read Online Free PDF Page B

slight annoy-ance that Marian the Librarian had not shown any sign she’d recognized Liddy. She was tired of being ogled, true. But she was not used to being forgotten.
    She didn’t want to go home, not yet. Plus she was starving. She dropped the book at the Hummer and walked down the mall to Prairie Lights Bookstore. They had great muffins in the café and creative protein drinks, too. The boa constrictors seemed to prefer the Java House, so she was likely not going to be accosted at the bookstore. Like libraries, bookstores were places she could lose all track of time. She’d grab a muffin and java, then browse.
    To her dismay she hadn’t even reached the top of the first flight of stairs when she heard, “That’s her .”
    “God, Amy was right.”
    Fuck. Fuck and fuck it, she was not going to be hit on. Not in a bookstore. The first and last time she’d let that happen had turned out badly. It was why she wasn’t in California this summer.
    She turned tail and went back out onto the darkening street, nearly knocking into a plump blonde. “Sorry.”
    “It’s okay, no harm done.” At least the woman’s smile wasn’t predatory. Nothing like ... “Excuse me.” Liddy realized she was blocking the doorway. “Sorry.”
    “Blessed be.” With a nod the blonde went into the store. Liddy let the door swing shut behind her.
    When she heard the door reopen and then that woman Ellie’s unmistakable Midwest twang, she accelerated toward the cover of the trees and shops. There had been a candle and perfume store marked in the online tourist map. It might still be open. She bolted the length of one block and skittered around the corner at the fountain.
    She was in luck. Sandalwood wafted into the damp night from Soap Opera’s open door. Liddy greeted the clerk and turned her attention to the vast array of candles. Something that smelled like the ocean would be perfect.
    After a half-dozen sniffs of different varieties she could no longer tell one from another. She went with “Landward Breeze” because it didn’t make her nose itch, then a bottle of rosemary and ginger body wash seemed exactly what she needed. At the checkout counter, she snagged a bag of lavender potpourri.
    The pale teenager at the register abruptly came to life. “We’re having a special on our homemade musk. A free infusion if you spend twenty-five dollars. Would you like to test it?” Liddy shrugged and leaned over the open vial for a sniff. It was too much. She recoiled and shook her head vehemently. “No, not for me.”
    The clerk gave her an odd look as she rung up the purchases. Not quickly enough Liddy escaped into the twilight.
    That scent ... She had never, ever wanted to smell it again. Not in her hair, her sheets, her pillows. Not in the closet, in a drawer, unexpectedly inside a jacket. That scent ... Holy shit, she hated it.
    To her horror, she felt a treacherous throb between her legs, and visions tortured her, reminded her of how she had been with that scent filling her head.
    She realized she was nearly running, even though there were no demons here to pursue her. That was why she was two thousand fucking miles from home. Nothing here was supposed to remind her of ... that lying, manipulative bitch.
    Nearly blind with anger and heartbreak, she stumbled to a stop in the parking lot near the library. Shaking, she put one hand on a nearby wall. The brick surface was still warm to the touch.
    The night was humid and sticky. Home was so far away.
    She wanted to kill something. Someone.
    She slapped the brick with her open palm, but it wasn’t enough.
    With a gasp, she leapt into self-defense stance, then without hesita-tion twirled into a roundhouse kick. The sole of her Teva made a satisfying thud against the wall. Again.
    Again.
    That bitch had to get out of her head sometime.
    “R,” she said under her breath in time with her next kick. More letters for every kick, trying to obliterate the name that went with the memory of