Echoed Whispers of Love

Chapter One

Mazi - 

I always wondered what it would be like to sell something in a place like this, bustling with people, each in their little world of chaos. Flea markets were something that I had loved to visit as a child and never grew out of loving; so today was nothing out of the ordinary for me.

Anytime Cassia and I had some rainy day money or some spare one-dollar bills we'd go on an adventure and get lost in the rows of vendors showing off any sort of goods they had to offer. Temporary tents were filled with people offering restored furniture, homemade valuables, jewelry, and everything else that the organ between their ears thought they could make a profit off of.

"Mazie! Come look at this alarm clock! It's missing some cogs, but I think we could scrounge up a few from the back inventory to make it work again." She turns her head to the lady behind the table and puts the asking price worth of ones on the table with a smile. Thanking her, she makes her way to my side and sighs in contentment.

"So, I've got twelve dollars left and you still have thirty we can still buy a few more items to fix up and get full profit on when we sell them in the shop."

Nodding my head I reply, "Yeah, I'm just having a hard time finding things that would be fun to fix y'know? I like a little bit of a challenge Cass."

"You prefer projects, not fast fixes like I do; I know, I know. I get it... but I don't girl. I want 'em quick and easy!" She states, hiding a smile at her not-so-sly innuendo.

Walking down the makeshift aisles, I spot a vendor selling antique jewelry.

Bingo.

I trek up to the surprisingly younger-looking man and put on my customer service front. "Hey! This is definitely going to be an odd question but do you have any broken watches? My best friend and I work over at Al's and I'll buy them off of you instead of you... doing whatever you do with them," I trailed off my sentence breaking eye contact with the stranger and scanning my eyes along the table in front of me.

"I have two ma'am."

"How much?" I realign our eyes and pinch my brows together in wonder.

The man sends me a charming smile and releases a puff of air. "I'll tell you what, if you give me your number, I'll give them to you for ten bucks and throw in this extra one that is ticking funky."

I let out a laugh at his bold offer while scanning his face, "How do I know you're not like some sort of serial killer or a part of a crime syndicate? I'm not keen on giving my number out to strangers." 

Chuckling he replies, "My name is AJ Ryder, I'm 22, I have an extreme addiction to iced coffee, my dog's name is Walter, I graduated community college here in Greene Grove, and I love seeing antique jewelry used like it's still in it's prime. There, now we aren't strangers anymore!"

"Hmm, how about this, Ryder, I get the two broken watches, the funky-sounding watch... and you give me your number instead." I offer with a coy smile. "If I so choose, I will text you, but if I decide that our encounter wasn't worthy of you obtaining my number, then sad day for you buckaroo."

I know this was completely unfair and that I had no intention of texting him, but I have to get these watches. These are my favorites to fix up; the feeling of satisfaction when you put a newly fixed one on and see it shine is magnificent. Truly? The low ticking noise that fills what was previously a silent room is the only dopamine boost I will ever need in life.

"It appears you have yourself a deal Miss.." he trails off in question.

"Devreaux."

The man I now know as AJ, carefully wraps the watches in a protective paper and places them in a small brown bag. He sits the bag on the table that lies between us, not letting me grab it, and looks at me expectantly.