Flirting with Fireworks. Teresa Carpenter

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do that, she needed the good people of Blossom on her side.

      A woman jostled Cherry as she rushed down the City Hall steps. Cherry stared after the thin brunette, disturbed by the ominous shiver that followed in her wake.

      Cherry’s ability to see the future came mostly through touch. When she performed, she used tarot cards. Occasionally, if she felt the need to do a deeper reading, she’d use the guise of reading the client’s palm, and then she buffered the contact with a scarf.

      The contact with the rude woman reminded Cherry of the gray pall she’d felt when she first came to town. Shaking off the feeling of oppression, she cleansed her mind. Deciding to dive in at the deep end, she headed for The BeeHive Diner by way of the park.

      She had an agenda to keep and it didn’t include solving the town’s dark problems. That was something for the good mayor to do.

      The yellow-and-brown color scheme and honeybee mural were charmingly cheerful. After placing her order, Cherry pulled out her cell phone and dialed her grandmother.

      “Hey, Nona. You sound breathless, you’re not doing anything you shouldn’t are you?”

      “What, and break a sweat? Where’s the fun in that?” Nona responded.

      A low male rumble sounded in the background.

      “Oh, hush. I’m talking to my granddaughter,” Nona’s muffled voice admonished, then she spoke back into the phone. “I do everything my physical therapist tells me to do.”

      Again the rumble, which Nona ignored except for a giggle. A giggle!

      “Enough about me. Did you reach Blossom? What did the mayor say?”

      The mayor—dark hair, gray-blue eyes, wide shoulders, hard attitude.

      “Not a sympathetic man, the mayor. Mostly he said he wouldn’t change his mind, that the ban existed because the townspeople had been hurt by a fortune-teller in the past.”

      “That doesn’t sound good.”

      “I did some research. Two years ago, a fortune-teller was on the take with a con man running a real estate scam. The fortune-teller planted the seed by telling people they would soon see a good investment, then a couple of weeks after the fair, a man breezed into town, the supposed representative of a development company ready to build a resort in the area. People lined up to buy. Next thing they knew, the fortune-teller was long gone, the resort didn’t exist, and the man had disappeared along with half a million dollars of the good citizens’ money.”

      “Charlatan.” The lash of fury in Nona’s voice traveled clearly down the line. She detested frauds. “And now we have to pay for her deceit.”

      “Unfortunately. But we can’t really blame the people of Blossom for not wanting a repeat performance. Last year, they didn’t have a fair at all.”

      “Well, now. That’s just a shame. Those charlatans stole more than the town’s money, they stole their spirit.”

      Nona truly believed in the positive energy to be had at the fair. Family values and young love, goodness and joy, all wrapped up in popcorn, cotton candy and hot summer nights were what made up the fair.

      Cherry believed, too, but she also knew frauds existed, people spent what they couldn’t afford and life wasn’t always fair. Even at the fair.

      “Don’t worry,” she reassured her grandmother. “I’m not giving up.”

      “What do you have planned?”

      “A few innocent parlor tricks, is all. The people of Blossom may have been burnt, but curiosity will bring them back every time.”

      “There’s something more, isn’t there? Something in your voice—” Nona suddenly switched gears. “You’ve met someone haven’t you? A man.”

      Cherry grimaced. She’d hoped to finish the conversation before it headed in this direction.

      “Nona, didn’t we have this talk when I was eighteen? I want to form my own opinion about the men I meet.”

      “We didn’t have this talk. This isn’t about the big bad wolf. We’re talking Prince Charming here.”

      Oh, please. Cherry barely kept from saying the words out loud. Jason Strong might look like a prince, but charming he was not.

      “Believe me, we are not talking Prince Charming. Take care of yourself, Nona. I’ll call after I’ve been to the Realtor.”

      Nona hung up the phone, her thoughts still with her granddaughter until a voice broke into her musings.

      “You were talking about men, right? With your granddaughter?” Tom Baxter asked. An ex-cop with broad shoulders and lots of pewter-colored hair, he was here recuperating from a blown-out knee. “I understand the reference to the Big Bad Wolf, but what does Prince Charming mean in this day and age?”

      The big Texan’s attention flustered Nona. Lord, she hadn’t felt so nervous around a man since her Grant first courted her a million years ago. Sweet Grant, he’d been her Prince Charming. She’d known the first time he touched her he was her soul mate. They’d had twenty wonderful years together before she lost him to a heart attack. Now she was seventy-one and could barely walk across the room. She certainly had nothing to offer this Big Bad Wolf.

      Still, she answered his question about Prince Charming. “It means her one true love.”

      Chapter Two

      Leaving the BeeHive, Blossom pushed open the door and came face-to-face with Jason Strong.

      “Lady Pandora.” He held the door for her. “Still in town?”

      “Mr. Mayor.” She pasted a smile on her face; not all that hard to do when he was such an almighty joy to look at. She stepped past him onto the sidewalk. “Of course. I don’t plan on going anywhere. I have a date with the fair in a few days.”

      His light blue eyes narrowed. “You shouldn’t get your hopes up. I won’t change my mind. Too many people stand to get hurt if I do.”

      Cherry just smiled more brightly; because he honestly didn’t know the insult he’d dealt her. “I’m very careful not to hurt people. When you have a talent such as I have, you learn early that it comes with a responsibility to shield people from the answers they’re so eager to hear.”

      “Very honorable of you. Except you’re wasting your time. I don’t believe in your special talents.” He broke off to greet two ladies exiting the diner. “Mrs. White, Mrs. Davis, good afternoon.”

      The women were complete opposites one, tall, thin, and dark; the other, short, sturdy, and silver. They greeted their mayor, then turned twin looks of interest in Cherry’s direction.

      Unaffected, she met their stares. “Afternoon. Wasn’t the apple cobbler exceptional?”

      Brilliant smiles broke over their faces. The taller of the women rolled her eyes and patted her chest. “My, yes. The cobbler was delicious

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