“You!” she exclaimed. “You’re my new neighbor?”
Confusion suddenly spiraled through me, and I looked around the neighborhood like it would spring forth some clue I hadn’t noticed. “You live…here?” I asked.
She turned slightly and pointed to the house directly next door. “Right there.”
Our eyes met, and I felt the blood draining from my face. “We’re next-door neighbors?”
“It appears so.”
“Fuck me,” I whispered.
“What?”
“Nothing,” I said, shaking my head. “Why don’t you come inside? We obviously have some things to discuss.”
She glanced down at the flowers strewed all over my front stoop and proceeded to step over the mess with her head held high. I couldn’t help the slight chuckle that escaped my parted lips.
“Oh, shut up,” she said. A tiny grin appeared as she passed me.
“Sorry about the mess. I’m starting to think I might never unpack everything.” We passed through the entryway into the living room and I watched her eyes take everything in.
Swimming in their depths were genuine emotions I had yet to understand. Her fingers trailed over the wood trim of the furniture and ornate fireplace mantel lovingly as if they had memories and tenderness. “Why does it all need to be unpacked at once?” she finally asked. “Is there any reason it all needs to be put away right this minute?”
“No.”
“Then, take some time to settle,” she suggested, finally picking a place on the old love seat my grandmother had owned for decades. Once again, her fingers quietly traced the floral pattern, over and over like a prayer.
“I just thought it would be better for Noah if everything had a place right away,” I admitted, not really sure why I was telling this woman anything. She’d just accosted me with plants.
“What Noah needs is you, plain and simple. If you are stressed, he will be stressed. Take a moment, and enjoy this new life of yours.”
“I thought you came over here to yell at me?” I quipped,
“Occupational hazard,” she admitted with a shrug, before adding, “Has he ever been to Richmond?”
“Only when he was younger and then briefly this year for my grandmother’s funeral. This was her house.”
“You’re Mrs. Reid’s grandson?” she asked, her eyes round with surprise.
“Yeah. Why? Did you know her?”
She smiled sweetly, looking downward as if seeking out a fond memory from the recesses of her mind. “Yeah, Mrs. Reid and I were very attached to each other. I’ve lived in this neighborhood for several years, and…well, let’s just say she became like a grandmother to me.”
Her eyes lifted once again, and I watched her wipe away a lone tear.
“I didn’t know. I’m sorry. I haven’t been around much and I don’t remember much of the funeral. It’s all a blur.”
“I wasn’t there,” she answered. “My practice, as well as most of my clients, was still fairly new. I hated the idea of having to cancel on them. I felt terrible about missing the funeral.”
“I’m sure she would have understood,” I offered, finally moving across the room to take a seat across from her. Leaning forward, I folded my hands and took a deep breath. “Sorry about the flowers,” I said. “I’ll replace them.”
She waved her hands in front of her, shaking her head. “No, it’s all right. I’ll take care of it.”
I nodded and watched her fiddle with the bracelets around her wrist. They caught the light from the lamp, sending shimmery streaks across her face and skin.
“I guess this puts a kink in our former relationship, doesn’t it?” I finally asked.
She looked up at me, and I was once again startled by her natural beauty. Her rich dark brown eyes were the color of cocoa, and her hair fell across her shoulders like ebony waves of silk. The desire to reach out and touch her was nearly beyond my control, yet I somehow managed to stay put.
She might be the girl next door, but she was definitely not my girl next door. I needed normal and Liv with the vibrant tattoo and crazy flower beds seemed to be anything but.
“Unfortunately, yes. I’m sorry. I think it would be wise for you to seek other counseling options for Noah, if he is still in need of them. Having me next door will only confuse him of my role in his life. If I had the choice, I’d rather be his neighbor and friend than his counselor.”
I chuckled briefly. “You just really don’t like to be paid, do you?”
She laughed. “It’s not about money to me, Mr. Reid. I’ve had money, and it does nothing for the soul.”
“Call me Jackson, Miss Prescott.”
“Only if you call me Liv.”
“Deal.”
“And what do you do, Jackson, to feed your soul?” she asked, her sculpted dark eyebrow rising in challenge.
“I’m a lawyer,” I answered.
She grinned as she rose from the love seat. I followed her to the door and watched as she stopped and turned toward me.