Prologue

Elle Levine

Thank you for calling Miss Tusaine’s Readings for the Divine, your personal guide to your future. In a moment, you’ll be connected with Lavender Meadows. To accept all that is waiting for you and the charges, please press one.

I wait on the other end of the line for the robotic voice to connect my new caller with me. Another person waiting for answers they believe only someone like me can give. Which I can. Reading people is ingrained in me, taught to me my entire life. Do I have to make up things and pull those ‘answers’ out of my ass most times? Yes. Does it make the person I’m helping feel better so I don’t have to feel like a complete piece of shit? Also yes. And that’s why I do what I do. Well, that and to save up money for my nursing degree. That’s the end goal for me, to be a nurse. Someone who can really help people and not just fake it.

I wait another moment for the caller to go through the motions before Lavender Meadows, my pseudonym, takes over and whisks them away to their future, whatever they hope that will be. The line beeps, signaling it’s my turn to speak.

“Thank you for calling Miss Tusaine's Readings for the Divine, this is Lavender Meadows. How may I help you tonight?” I give them a moment to gather their thoughts and listen, waiting for some cues as to where this “reading” is headed.

“H-hello. I-I don’t know why I’m doing this. I really don’t. But I need to know… I don’t know what I need to know exactly. Ugh, I’m messing this all up,” the caller cries, struggling to come to terms with whatever is plaguing her at the moment.

I quickly study the computer screen in front of me, looking at the name she said when asked for her credit card information.

“Sarah,” I begin, and she gasps. Hearing her name from me just adds to the realness of the call, showing that I really do “know all”. “You’re struggling, I can tell. Take a few deep, calming breaths for me and let’s see if we can’t figure this out. Okay?” I say, coaxing her into compliance.

“Thank you so much,” she breathes, and from there, I know she’s hooked and ready.

Sarah’s call lasted about thirty minutes, but in that time frame I was able to make her realize that her pregnancy didn’t define her and the fact that she was unsure of who the father was - either her ex-boyfriend or her brother’s best friend - didn’t mean she couldn’t be happy. I told her that she should take the bull by the horns and go after what she wanted without holding back. She spoke several times of the brother’s friend, so I made mention that her future was bright in the way of taboo notions, and if she followed that path it would lead to great heights. Hopefully, the baby was his and he loved her too. Only time would tell. No one could predict the future. * cough*

I’m just about ready to sign off for the night when my screen indicates I have a last-minute caller. I wait again for the robotic voice to do its thing before answering. Giving my usual spiel, I listen as the caller goes to speak.

The caller - John Dough, obviously fake, yes spelled that way – speaks, and my breath catches in my throat. His voice, rich and deep and delectable, made my hair stand on end, and a tingle reverberated through me straight to my core. I’d never heard a voice so… delicious.

That call lasted an hour, and he called back every night for a month. We never exchanged any personal information with each other, keeping the mystery alive, but I always wondered what it would be like to hear his voice in my ear or caressing my skin. To this day, my body still vibrated at the thought of my John Dough, mystery caller and the focal point of all my late-night fantasies.