FF Lynn Galli - Life Rewired

For Falyn Shaw, life after prison isn't much better than life in prison. People she knew before want nothing to do with her. Anyone she meets now treats her with disdain as soon as they learn where she's been. Her job is lousy and the pay is pitiful. Worst of all, police consider her a suspect in anything vaguely similar to her previous crime.

A chance meeting with an old friend lets her leave all the unpleasantness behind. She moves to Aspen where no one knows her, takes up her former career as an electrician, and begins to reestablish her life as a decent citizen. Making friends is easy in this small town. One friend in particular, Molly Sokol, turns out to be a kindred spirit. Life is finally back on track. In fact, it may be better than ever as her relationship with Molly turns romantic. But when her past finally catches up with her, can she keep her new life without ruining her blossoming relationship and her friend's business? Or will that come at the expense of her freedom?.

260 Pages - May 2.013

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Sample

Part I

Falyn

1

The low fuel indicator blazed to life on my dash like a bright warning beacon for so much more than just a dwindling supply of gasoline. The four hour drive had given me a long time to contemplate this move. Too much could go wrong, but I was hoping more would go right. My outlook switched back and forth with every change in altitude on the endless mountain pass. The miniature gas pump icon served as a taunting reminder that I could be making the second biggest mistake of my life.

I rolled down the window, letting the crisp, cool air flow around me. Even two years out, I still wasn’t used to being able to get fresh air anytime I wanted. The breeze and what it represented prompted me to take stock. So I only had $100 to my name—well, $58.13 after gassing up and stopping for a snack on the road. So it had to last me until my first paycheck. So if I got fired from my new job I wouldn’t have enough money for the return drive to Denver to beg for my old job back. A lousy job working a chicken packaging line, but a job. Even minimum wage was better than nothing. Especially for an ex-con.

Another ski area? How many were there on this road? Five, six? And how many more curves and aspen trees would I need to get through before I saw this damn town? Okay, I get it. The town is called Aspen for a reason. Enough with the trees already.

I shook my head. Sarcasm was a slippery slope to cynicism, and being jaded was what got me into trouble the first time. Until I felt sure I wouldn’t follow sarcasm to that end again, I had to disrupt it from the start. Best just to focus on what I had here and now. Clean mountain air, unmatched scenery, new town, nonjudgmental friend, all leading to what I hoped would be a better life.

I was pretty sure I made the right decision coming here. Not like I had much of a choice. Two months behind on rent at my old place, eviction couldn’t be more than a day or two away. If that weren’t bad enough, my place was the first stop for three moronic detectives anytime they caught a burglary case. On parole, I could do nothing but endure their searches and accusations. Off parole, I knew nothing would change. Either I let them question me or I became suspect number one in their cases. With police, once a criminal, always a criminal. Not for me. It might be true for others, but I had no plans to repeat the biggest mistake of my life. Five years in prison beat the criminal out of me. Moving was my only option, and without first and last month’s saved up, options were limited.

Finally! The town-limit sign. Were they serious with that population count? I’d be lucky to find more than a dozen streets in this place. On the non-sarcastic side, I’d be able to bike those twelve streets and save on my now depleted gas budget.

I fished out the directions once again. I’d double-checked them at every merge and turn on the trip. My gas tank wouldn’t allow for doubling back. It wasn’t long before I was taking the turn off the highway onto a one-lane road. A driveway shot off to the left, leading to two homes mostly hidden by trees. Down the road, I spotted a two-story home with a barn and horse corral. A sweeping curve through more trees took me past a small cabin. My tight grip on the wheel relaxed at the faint sound of nail guns firing in the distance. I’d finally found it.

I parked behind one of the trucks lining the gravel driveway and looked up at the house under construction. The build was smaller than I expected. Two stories but compact. Sheets of plywood enclosed the framing, but no house wrap or windows yet. That put the project at a month in already.

I wanted to be here for the foundation pour in March, but my asshole parole officer denied my request to relocate. I could have checked in with him by phone for my final month, but no, that would have diminished his authority somehow. As if that weren’t dickish enough, he’d flaunted his remaining power over me this morning by pushing our final meeting back a few hours without telling me. I sat on that rigid plastic chair in the dingy, underfunded government lobby waiting for his ego to deflate. It took every ounce of patience I had to keep from ripping his fingernails off when I was finally shown into the office to complete my release paperwork.

I’d driven off the anger, but I was bummed that I was late. I wanted to get that awkward first day on the job out of the way with a half day of work.

“Falyn,” a voice called out from the work tent beside the structure.

Natalie Harper traversed through the equipment with a pretty redhead at her side. Only the third time I’d seen her in almost ten years, I was again surprised by the changes I spotted in my friend. The first time we met she’d been sixteen trying to pass for eighteen. Her light brown hair used to be longer and her frame two inches shorter. She’d really come into her beauty over the past decade with stylish chopped hair, sleek longer body, and fully mature face. When she was sixteen, she never drew attention to herself and shrouded her femininity to keep the guys on the construction crew in line. She’d obviously found a great balance between staying one of the guys and ramping up her hotness.

I stepped out of the car, my knees and back cracking. It felt good to stand and even better to see Nat again. Last time was a chance meeting in a Denver parking lot. The encounter was too brief to really catch up, but long enough for her to offer me a job on her construction crew. Based on the unassuming Natalie I knew, I anticipated a two-person shop that tackled small repair jobs. It turned out she had a lean but full crew that could use an electrician to help build a custom home. I jumped at the chance to get back into construction after being denied for years.

“How was the trip?” Natalie asked and reached forward for a hug. Even with the two inch growth spurt in her late teens, the top of her head only came up to my mouth.

She’d been like a little sister to me when we first met, especially once she confessed to her true age and the fact that she was on her own because of homophobic parents who kicked her out. At that point, I always tried to watch out for her on the jobs we worked together. I also taught her everything I could. She’d soaked it up and now had her own construction company. One she had no problem risking to hire on an ex-con electrician. Something no other construction crew had been willing to do.

“Long, but it’s good to be here.” I smiled and tried to scope out her girlfriend without making it look like I was checking her over. Conventionally pretty with bright blue eyes and an engaging smile.

“Meet Glory, my friend and your landlord,” Natalie indicated.

Oh. So not the girlfriend then. “Hi, Glory.”

“Nice to meet you.” She gripped my hand with both of hers. Short thing, even more than Natalie, but pretty and off-limits based on the flash of gold I caught on her finger. No doubt straight anyway. “I was dropping off your key, but now I can give it to you.”

I reached to take it. I hoped the place wasn’t a dump like my apartment in Denver, but it was free and Natalie was paying three times what I made on the packaging line. I’d take a tent for that wage.

“Let me know if anything comes up while you’re there,” Glory told me. “I better run. The house looks beautiful, Nat.” She waved and went off to her car. Already, she seemed ten times better than my last landlord.

Turning back, I caught Natalie staring at me. A blush hit her cheeks. “Your hair is lighter and you lost the braid.”

I huffed in amusement. Until two years ago, I kept my dark blond hair long and braided. Feminine tomboy, perfect for construction sites, but I wanted everything to change when I got out. Now my hair stopped just past my collar, and the shorter style added body to the thick strands. “You saw me a few months ago.”

“I was too excited about running into you to notice. Did you possibly get taller, too?” She grinned, and I felt my tension dissipate at the longstanding tease. At five-ten, I was as tall as most of the guys on our old crew. She always resented that my height made it easier to blend in. Blending was her constant goal on the jobsite.

“At least half a foot,” I kidded back.

“Thought so.” She tipped her head toward the house. “Do you want to take a look before we get you settled into your new digs?”

“Sure.”

I followed her around to the front of the structure. It was a cottage style home, but it had elements that tied it to the house down the road and the cabin nearby. We were building it for Natalie’s girlfriend, who owned the cabin I’d passed and whose brother lived in the other house.

“Thought I heard a new voice out here. This the new fritz?” A solid guy with sheered, black hair and a wide nose appeared in the front doorway and strode down the steps.

“Falyn, this is Miguel. He’s the crew chief when I’m not around.”

“Damn glad to meet you.” His smile was kind as he pumped my outstretched hand. “We’ve really needed an electrician on the crew. Nat tells me you’re the best.”

My eyebrows rose. It had been years since I’d done electrical work. Long enough that I had to reestablish my license when I got out. I wanted so very much to live up to Natalie’s expectations.

“Let’s show her what we’ve done so far.” Natalie moved ahead of us into the structure.

It was still in the open frame stage. Anyone without construction experience would have a hard time seeing the layout. I was happy to note that I could spot all the major elements almost as fast as when I’d been doing this work day to day. Perhaps I wouldn’t be as rusty as I feared.

We hadn’t been looking around long before two women stepped through the front doorway. One was short and a little plain except for the trendy but clunky glasses. The other was beautiful, closer to my height with long, chestnut brown hair that fell in waves around her face and shoulders. Even without the bright smile for Natalie, I knew the gorgeous one was her girlfriend. Holy smokes, I mean, Natalie was hot, but this woman was walking fire.

“Hi, babe,” she said softly, leaning in for a quick hello kiss from Natalie before tapping Miguel’s shoulder in greeting.

“Hi, Vivi,” Natalie answered, keeping her hand on the woman’s arm. Her eyes flicked to me as she stepped back and introduced us. “Vivian Yeats, this is Falyn Shaw.”

“Falyn, it’s so great to have you here. Natalie’s been looking forward to it.” Nothing about her statement sounded insincere, but Natalie must have told her about my history. She had to be worried I would ruin her girlfriend’s company. Hell, I thought I might ruin her girlfriend’s company.

“It’s wonderful to meet you, Vivian.”

She introduced me to the other woman as her assistant, Samantha. Then she had Natalie catch her up on the day’s progress. Her questions proved she had a lot of construction knowledge to go with her design talent. Normally the designer did nothing but make things more difficult for the people who made their designs come to life.

“Fos,” Natalie said to me, and a flush crested her cheeks as she realized my initials just spilled out of her mouth. She hadn’t called me Fos since our last job together. Falyn Ophelia Shaw. Yes, Ophelia. Blame my mom. “Do you mind looking over the electrical plans and drawing up a supply list? I was waiting for you to get here so we wouldn’t miss anything.”

“Sure,” I said, happy to help somewhere today after getting here so late.

Miguel and Natalie went out the back door opening as Vivian and Samantha discussed some design elements in the great room. Everything seemed calm and efficient. I’d worked many construction crews and seen almost every dynamic. This felt different somehow, but of course, it wasn’t her whole crew yet.

The sound of an engine outside made me glance up from my scribbles. I watched as a striking butch stepped down from a compact pickup. She was tall, probably as tall as me but with a little more muscle than on my trimmer frame. She had short, espresso colored hair in a perfect wave that pushed back from her face and ears. The determined line of her mouth matched the intense stare of her dark eyes as she moved toward the house. Confidence dripped from her every stride. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that she was a lesbian, which given the population, I found surprising. I feared there might not be any others in town.

A smile formed on my lips as I considered dating again. I hadn’t given it any thought since getting out. Parole wasn’t exactly conducive to dating. The occasional one night stand served my infrequent needs. If there were more single lesbians in town, I might have to pull out my charm and dust it off. See if it still worked. Not on this person. She wasn’t my type, but if I could find someone else.

She stepped up into the house and greeted Vivian with a tight hug. The smile slid from my face as she leaned back and kissed her. On the mouth. In broad daylight. In front of Samantha and, although she didn’t know it, me, friend of the person who loved the woman she was kissing. In a house the woman’s girlfriend was building for her.

What. The. Hell?

2

I ducked out the nearest doorway, wondering what kind of messed up drama I’d stepped into here. Natalie gave me the impression that she and Vivian were exclusive. She was building a frickin’ house for the woman. She got all moony when she talked about her. They had to be exclusive. Could she really be okay with someone else kissing the woman she loved? She better know about it. I sure as hell didn’t want to be the one to break it to her, but I couldn’t just ignore it.

“Nat?” I called up to where I’d heard her walking on the roof.

She poked her head over the side, spotted my perturbed look, and came down the ladder. “What’s up?”

Prison pretty much beat all the social elegance out of me, so I blurted, “Your girlfriend’s with a fine butch inside. You okay with that?”

Natalie’s face scrunched up in confusion. Her eyes didn’t even flick towards the back door opening. Like she didn’t think what I said was possible. “Molly?”

“Didn’t catch her name. Just saw her kiss your woman.”

She tipped up onto her toes to look through one of the window openings. “That’s Molly. They’ve been friends a long time.”

“You’re okay with it?” Confusion soaked into my sizzling brain.

She let a laugh slip then noticed how serious I looked. “Viv and I are together.”

Like that explained everything. I knew they were together. That’s why I was out here fuming over seeing what I saw. “You’re okay with kisses from women who clearly like other women?”

“I don’t have anything to worry about. Viv loves me, and she’s her own woman. She and Molly have been friends a lot longer than she and I have been together.” She squeezed my arm. “C’mon, let’s say hi.”

“Hey, Nat,” the over-affectionate greeter known as Molly said whe