Chapter 1
Three Years Earlier
Claire Simms waited eagerly to meet her boyfriend of one year so they could go see the new “Spiderman” movie that had just come out. She checked her watch once again – he should have been at her dorm 10 minutes ago. She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and called him – no answer. She tried texting him, but, five minutes later, she still had no responding text. Feeling fear squirm in her belly, she walked outside to see if he had already pulled up.
“If he isn’t here in the next five minutes, I’ll go to his room. He said he really wanted to see this movie,” she muttered to herself. Five minutes later, she sighed and got into her car. The closer she got to his dorm room, the more persistent the swirling feeling in her stomach became, almost as if it were warning her. Running to the second floor, she knocked at his door . . . no answer. She turned to leave, then heard a . . . groan? Was he sick? She tried the doorknob, which was unlocked. The snaking feeling of apprehension in her stomach began lashing wildly, making her feel nauseated. Opening the door wide, the sunlight fell on two people, nude and writhing on the bed.
“Scott! What are you . . . who?” Claire clamped her jaws tight against the onrush of bile, turned and ran downstairs, where she lost her lunch. As she finished being sick, she heard Scott’s voice.
“Claire! Baby, I’m sorry! I never meant for you to find out like . . .”
“Bullshit! You never meant for me to find out – ever!” She turned, tears burning her eyes as she ran to her car and peeled out of the Monagle Hall Residence Center parking lot. Back in her room, she was sick again as her mind replayed the scene in Scott’s room – him, on his bed, naked and having sex with some nameless girl. “Never again. Nobody will ever play me like that, ever again,” Claire vowed, wiping tears and perspiration from her face as she rinsed her mouth out yet again.
Nobody had ever played her again. She learned to keep her inheritance her secret. If others wanted only to “love” her for what she could give them, they were no friends of hers. If being alone was the price she paid, so be it.
Present Day
Claire sat in her investment manager’s office, discussing how much she needed to rent store space, buy shelving, decorate the store, then buy yarns, knitting needles, crochet hooks and other supplies for The Love Knot.
“I’ve been visiting other stores that specialize in fiber crafts and this is what I’ve found – they have several different product lines. I want to store the yarns in lined baskets, make it look more homey and inviting. Of course, I’ll need shelves and hooks to hang the supplies like scissors, hooks and needles. I’ll also be stocking patterns so my customers can find what they want to make. My dream is to make it a one-stop shop.”
“Okay. What spaces have you seen? Do you know what they rent for?” asked Jeff Travers, Claire’s investments manager.
“Yes, I have. I’ve seen something like four vacant spaces and they all rent for about $8,000 per month.”
“Have you done anything to see how well The Love Knot would do here in Las Cruces? You know, we do have two crafting stores in town, plus a couple of other specialty stores,” warned Jeff.
“Yes. But, the crafting stores are more general. They sell all types of crafts and hobbies, where mine focuses only on fiber crafts. The specialty stores sell rare, high-priced yarns. I want to sell yarns that anyone can afford. Acrylic, wool, cotton, cotton blends, silk, ribbon, you name it.”
“Observant! You’re right.” Jeff smiled. “You’ve done your homework, Claire. You know, I’d be one of your biggest customers.”
Claire smiled in slight disbelief. “Do you . . . knit? Or crochet?”
“Crochet. I find it fits my fingers better, plus I’m less likely to drop several stitches. I’ve made several beanies for my brothers, nephews and
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