CHAPTER 1
Crystal sat on the edge of her seat in the café across from the Hot Ink Tattoo Studio, clutching her purse. As she stared through the glass panel windows, she scanned the foot traffic streaming by for any sign of her brother’s blond hair. When he finally appeared, she stopped holding her breath.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so giddy. She tapped her toe against the tile as he caught her eye, nodded and entered the café.
“I already ordered for us,” she said when he approached the little table she’d claimed. “Your usual. I know your schedule is tight lately.”
“Thanks. How much was it?”
She shook her head as he pulled out his wallet.
“It’s my treat.” She waved a hand as a pang of guilt sailed through her. “Just sit down.”
He tried to give her money but she refused. Their mini-argument was cut short when a barista called out the number on her receipt, and she went to get their food.
James seemed happy with his lunch, but Crystal had to force herself to take a bite of her turkey and pesto sandwich. She’d been waiting so long to have this conversation with her brother – she’d dreamed of it ever since she’d returned to Pittsburgh a year ago, straight out of rehab and deeply in his debt. Now, it was finally real.
It was the biggest step in the right direction she’d taken since making the decision to do rehab.
“I asked you to meet me because there’s something I need to talk to you about,” she said.
His expression changed just a little, his green eyes darkening and the muscles around his mouth tensing.
“It’s good news,” she hurried to say. “I’m moving out.”
“You are?” He set down his sandwich and locked her in eye contact, as if looking for some sign of a joke.
“Yes. I signed the lease on an apartment yesterday.”
“Where at?” He launched into a series of questions, grilling her on the neighborhood and amenities, the cost of rent and a dozen other things.
She waved a hand. “It’s only a few blocks from your place.” She described the complex she’d be moving into.
Slowly, he nodded. “Neighborhood’s okay, and you’ll have me nearby, but… Can you afford it?”
His gaze was deep and searching, almost sad. “I know they don’t pay you a lot.”
She couldn’t hold back a smile, even though he was right – she wasn’t exactly raking in the big bucks working in cosmetics at a department store. “You’re right about that. But I have a secondary source of income.”
Actually, her job at the make-up counter had more or less become her secondary source of income. She was making more money from her other work – a fact that had had butterflies whirling through her stomach for months now.
James raised his eyebrows. “You do?”
“Yes…” She took a deep breath and tried not to give away how excited she was about revealing her big secret. “You know how much I love make-up artistry.”
He nodded, his gaze lingering on her face. She actually wasn’t wearing much make-up today.
Okay … so she’d gone a little buck wild with some new eye make-up samples she’d received from a start-up cosmetics company, but she’d taken it easy with everything else, brushing on just a hint of blush and gloss.
“Yeah,” he said. “Judging by the number of boxes that’ve been delivered to our apartment over the past few months, I figured you’d invested most of your paychecks in lipstick.”
She frowned. Had he really thought she’d been squandering her money in the name of vanity?
Maybe she should’ve told him what she’d been up to sooner. It was just that her success had seemed so unreal at first – still did, really – that she hadn’t wanted to jinx it.
“I didn’t pay a dime for most of that stuff,” she said. “The manufacturers sent me the products to review. I’ve been making my own make-up how-to videos for the better part of a year now. I started just a couple months after I moved in, and I’ve built up quite a following. I even have my own website.”
His brow creased. “How’ve you been making money from that?”
She grinned. “Advertisements. They play before my videos start and I run them on my site, too. It may not sound like much, but my web traffic and viewers have increased so much over the past few months that I’m earning pretty good money.”
At least, the amount she was earning seemed phenomenal to her – all the jobs she’d ever held had been in food service and retail. Being able to make more than a pittance above minimum wage doing something she loved was a dream come true.