The Move (The Creek Water Series Book 2)

by Whitney Dineen

  “You want cream and sugar?” she asks.

  “Black is fine.”

  Gracie says, “I invited Lee over to join us. I hope that’s okay.”

  I know from Emmie that Lee is Beau’s mother and that she lives right next door. “That’ll be nice,” I say, even though I feel a bit on edge about meeting his mom after our encounter at the loft. While I know nothing can happen between me and Beau, I still excuse myself to reapply my lipstick; I feel like I’m trying to make a good impression on my boyfriend’s parent.

  I come back into the living room as Lee walks through the front door. She sees me and smiles so big she looks like she’s spotted a long-lost friend. “Lexi!” she says before swooping in, throwing her arms around me, and squeezing to the point of pain. Then she steps back at arm’s length and says to Gracie, “She’s every bit as pretty as you said she was.”

  “You’re gonna give her bruises, Lee,” Gracie admonishes.

  Beau’s mom turns back to me and removes her death grip only to grab my hand and pull me into the living room. “Come on, let’s sit down and you can tell me everything.”

  I’m not sure what everything entails. Maybe my shoe size or my astrological sign, or what I had for breakfast, I don’t know. Once we’re seated, she announces, “I can see why Beau likes you.”

  Wait, what? I say, “Mrs. Frothingham, I only met your son for a short time this afternoon. I don’t think he’s formed an opinion one way or another.” Even though I know he has, and that opinion is not a favorable one.

  Lee pulls out her phone. “First of all, call me Lee. Secondly, lookie here at this text message I got from him.”

  Beau: Emmie’s friend from New York is joining us for dinner at the club.

  Lee: So?

  Beau: I’m just saying.

  Lee: She pretty or something?

  Beau: I don’t see how that’s any of your business.

  Lee: Is she?

  Beau: Mama, I gotta go. Make sure you call the club, so they give us a big enough table.

  “Mrs. Froth … Lee,” I say, “I don’t see how you could interpret that text as anything other than your son wanting to make sure we’re seated at a large enough table. Also, from what I understand, his girlfriend will be joining us.”

  “Shelby’s no more his girlfriend that I am the Queen of England.” Her expression switches from indignation to intrigue as she announces, “Beau has never worried about our seating situation for dinner. Ever. It’s one of those things he thinks magically takes care of itself. He gets that from his daddy. Secondly, if he wasn’t interested, he would have said, ‘I suppose she’s pretty enough.’ But did he say that? No, ma’am. He said that he didn’t see how that was my concern. You see where I’m going here?”

  Unless she’s taking the scenic trip to the moon, I have no idea where she’s going. “I don’t,” I confess.

  “Beauregard Jacob Frothingham does not like his mama up in his business when he’s interested in a girl. Plain and simple, that boy thinks he’s above my involvement in his personal life. So, when he says to me, ‘I don’t see how that’s any of your business, Mama,’ after I asked after your countenance, that tells me he’s interested.”

  Gracie enthusiastically agrees, “She’s right. Historically, Beau has never discussed his lady friends with us. I remember when he was in high school, he wouldn’t even tell us who he asked to the senior prom. We had to wait until the knowledge went public and then hear it down at the club.”

  Lee says, “Hannah White. That was one pretty girl. Whatever happened to her?”

  Gracie looks surprised and replies, “Don’t you remember? She married her sorority sister and they moved to Los Angeles and started a family.”

  Lee smacks her hand on her leg. “That’s right! That’s not something you’d think I’d forget. I better start taking my ginkgo biloba again.” Then she turns to me and declares, “Now I know you’re not planning on moving to Creek Water or anything, but I would be most obliged if you could be as diverting as possible to my son. He and Shelby need to walk away from each other fast or they’re liable to do something dangerous like get married out of some warped sense of duty. And trust me, neither of them would be better for it.”

  “I don’t know what you think I can do,” I say, wishing I were about anywhere other than sandwiched between these well-meaning and highly excitable women.

  “Wear a pretty dress and show a little cleavage. Men are simple creatures. It shouldn’t take more than that.”

  “I brought a nice cashmere dress, but it has a high neck, will that do?” I find that I want to look sexy the next time I see Beau and, if I were to be honest, my motive has nothing to do with pleasing his mother.

  Lee looks over at Gracie and says, “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

  Gracie raises her fists in the air like a pillaging villager rallying the troops. At the same moment, the sisters-in-law declare, “Shopping trip!”

  And that’s how I come to own the sexiest dress I’ve ever worn. Regina would have a fit if she could see it.

  Chapter 9

  “Where’ve y’all been?” Emmie asks when we walk through the front door.

  “We went over to Stevenson to do a little shopping,” Gracie answers.

  “Looks like you did more than a little,” she says, pointing to the several shopping bags we haul in.

  “Lexi needed a new dress, so Lee and I took her over to Petaline’s.”

  Emmie asks, “Why does Lexi need a new dress?”

  “You know, for this and that,” Gracie says.

  “This and that, what?” my friend wants to know.

  Her mom confesses, “Lee thought she might like to wear a new dress to dinner tonight.”

  “Why?” Emmie looks perplexed.

  I explain, “Because your mother and aunt think I should wear a dress with cleavage to draw Beau’s attention away from his girlfriend.”

  I expect my friend to be on my side here, as you know we’re kind of our own little sisterhood, but she does no such thing. She claps her hands rapid fire as though she is trying to kill a swarm of gnats that’s been released in front of her. “What a great idea! I hope you got one that shows a lot of boob.”

  “Oh, honey, wait until you see,” Gracie replies. “We pulled out the big guns.”

  “I want to see it right now,” Emmie declares. “Go try it on, Lexi.”

  I have very mixed emotions. First of all, I really enjoyed going shopping with two women who acted like everything I tried on was the prettiest thing they’d ever seen. Not to mention, I love the dress. It’s so feminine and sexy that I feel a million kinds of powerful in it.

  On the flip side, I don’t really like being used as some sort of distraction to help break up two people I don’t know. What if Beau and Shelby really are meant to be together? It’s not my place to insinuate myself into their dynamic, especially as I have no skin in the game. I’m leaving in five weeks.

  Then again, Beau is gorgeous, and it would be highly gratifying to see him appreciate my charms. Also, I should be able to wear anything I like without worrying about how my outfit will affect others.

  While the angel and devil on my shoulders fight it out to the death, I grab the bag with my new purchase and head off to my room. The dress Lee coerced me into purchasing is sensual and seductive, but not the least bit slutty. As a matter of fact, it’s sophisticated and elegant.

  It’s a form-fitting taupe-colored jersey that’s so soft it feels like I’m being hugged by a cloud. The color is part of what makes it so darn seductive. It’s only the tiniest bit lighter than my skin tone, lending an almost nude look. It hits just below the knee, where there’s a small flutter-hem that adds the perfect touch of whimsy. That’s what Lee says anyway, and I’m one hundred percent buying into it. There’s been a sorry lack of whimsy in my life.

  The top is fitted, as well, and the three-quarter length sleeves have a matching detail to the hem. Every time I move my arm the f
abric wisps around gracefully like it’s doing interpretive dance. The neckline is rounded and wouldn’t show off anything of interest if not for the keyhole cutout right between my girls. It showcases enough hills and valleys that you know what you’re looking at, but not so much that it’s trashy. On Gracie’s recommendation, I bought a new bra that will push my cleavage up and closer together to give a better show.

  The shoes are a matching three-inch suede pump. Lee thought I should get the four-inch pair, but unless you want to see me fall on my face—which Beau already witnessed this afternoon, thank you, very much—three was all I could risk.

  When I walk into the living room, my audience whistles and hoots like they’re at a strip club. I perform a dignified curtsey and Emmie declares, “Ho-leee heck, girl, you look like sex on a toothpick! I want that dress in every color in the rainbow.”

  I thank my friend for her lavish compliment, wondering if sex on a toothpick is a Southern colloquialism or an Emmie-ism.

  Lee says, “Gracie and I bought dresses, too. Why don’t you wear one tonight, Emmie, then our whole party will shine bright?”

  “I have the perfect thing,” my friend says. “Let’s hurry and do our hair and makeup. Zach is going to meet us at the club in an hour with Faye, and I want to knock his socks plumb off his feet.”

  As we bustle around getting ready with the same degree of excitement reserved for a first high school dance, I can’t help but feel a little thrill at the thought of what Beau will make of my new outfit. Not that I’m really trying to get him interested in me.

  Chapter 10

  The Creek Water Country Club positively takes my breath away. It’s both gorgeous and garish at the same time, like something out of the Antebellum South. I feel like I’ve stepped out of Doctor Who’s Tardis. As we walk up the path to the imposing structure, Emmie’s mom and aunt stop to greet several friends. They introduce me, but there’s no chance I’ll remember anyone’s names. We do not have names like Bobby Jo, Blondene, and Reyanne in New York City—they’re all foreign to me.

  We meet up with Emmie’s uncles once we enter the lobby. When our coats come off, both men show proper appreciation of our efforts, offering slow whistles and lavish compliments.

  Lee introduces me to her husband, Jed, who gallantly kisses my hand and says, “New York’s loss is our gain. Welcome to Missouri, Lexi.”

  “Mr. Frothingham, I’m delighted to meet you.”

  “The only Mr. Frothingham I know is my daddy, honey. You can call me Jed.” Then he motions to his brother. “And this here’s my little brother, Jesse.”

  Jesse bows at the waist. “Any friend of Emmie’s is a friend of ours. We’re pleased to have you here.”

  The dining room is reminiscent of a two-hundred-year-old gentleman’s club. The furnishings are dark wood with leather-covered club chairs. Multiple large crystal chandeliers hang overhead and the draperies on the elongated windows are a deep navy velvet.

  The hostess seats us at a table for twelve right in the middle of the room, as if we’re on center stage. Beau and Shelby are already there along with Emmie’s other two cousins, Amelia and Davis, to whom I am immediately introduced. This family is a slice of white bread right out of the middle of the loaf. They look too perfect to be real.

  Emmie’s other half, Zach, who I’d met a couple months earlier in New York, jumps up to greet me. “Lexi, we’re so happy you’re here.” After a one-armed hug, he hands me Faye, their daughter, so I can give her a cuddle. Faye is the perfect combination of her parents. Her coloring is all Zach, but her face is a replica of Emmie’s. Holding her makes me realize how much I’ve missed her.

  Lee gives me a couple moments to love on the baby before taking her out of my hands. She says, “You can have her back later. Why don’t you sit down over there?” She points to a chair kitty-corner from her.

  Davis stands up and pulls my chair out for me. He charmingly offers, “It looks like I won the dinner companion lottery.”

  I smile flirtatiously. “I think I might have the winning ticket as well.”

  Once seated, I learn that Amelia owns a bead shop and Davis carves artisan furniture. I already know Beau is a realtor, so I focus my attention on Shelby who’s sitting across the table from me. Beau’s girlfriend looks like her appearance is the last thing on her mind. Her light hair hangs lank with no real style, and her clothes look like something she picked up off the floor. There’s a haphazard air about her. “What do you do, Shelby?” I ask, genuinely curious.

  She jolts like I’ve spooked her. “I help my mama,” she says after a long pause.

  “What does your mother do?” I ask. You’d think I’d belched the way everyone turns to stare at me. For a split second I hope Shelby’s mother isn’t a madam or something. Given the intensity of their reaction, I have to wonder.

  Beau answers for her, “Shelby’s mama is president of ladies’ affairs here at the country club.” He stares at me with such intensity I can’t help but wish I hadn’t asked.

  As this is the first country club I’ve ever set foot in, I have no idea what that entails. “So, you plan women’s affairs,” I repeat, sounding like a simpleton.

  “Pretty much,” Shelby offers with no real enthusiasm.

  I can’t seem to leave well enough alone and need to know. “What kind of affairs?” What in the world do women in country clubs do that requires a president to oversee it—doily embroidery, tea pouring?

  Shelby rolls her eyes and drops her napkin in front of her. “Lexi, is it?” When I nod my head, she continues, “I assure you, my job is as dumb as it sounds. Mama plans dances and fundraisers and nonsense like that and I run around doing whatever she tells me to.” The look on her face is nothing short of belligerent.

  “Sounds interesting,” I say, trying to diffuse the tension.

  “If you call that interesting, you need to get out more,” she retaliates.

  Davis comes to my rescue and says, “I’m guessing Creek Water is nothing like what you’re used to.”

  “No, but I think it’s charming,” I tell him, all the while thinking it’s a good thing Regina’s not here. She’d be freaked out.

  Emmie says, “Lexi got a promotion at work that’s going to have her moving to Atlanta.”

  “Atlanta’s nice,” Beau says. I have a feeling he’d think Antarctica would be a lot nicer. As in, the farther away from him, the better. Despite his mother and aunt’s hopes, which are only fantasies, I cannot help but feel like I’ve rubbed him the wrong way.

  “Not as nice as Creek Water, though,” Lee says. “You should move here, Lexi.” Beau looks alarmed at her suggestion.

  For once we seem to be in agreement. I feel like I’m smack in the middle of a Tennessee Williams play, and my comfort zone is way more Woody Allen. I can’t say that in present company, so I tell them, “I wouldn’t know what to do here to make a living.”

  Shelby says, “You could marry someone and raise babies. That seems to be a popular pastime.” I’m pretty sure she is being facetious.

  Jed says, “You could come work for us at Emmeline’s.”

  I smile gratefully at their enthusiasm over keeping me around, but reluctantly admit, “I’m more of big city girl, I’m afraid.”

  “Lucky you,” Shelby mumbles at the same time Beau says, “You can keep New York as far as I’m concerned.”

  Lee intervenes, “I’m afraid my children are small-town people, just like me and Jed. We like to visit the big cities, but we like coming home to our quiet life even more.”

  Once we order our dinner, I focus on my wine with the intention of keeping quiet. There are so many undercurrents at this table, it’s like walking through a minefield without a map.

  Davis, who’s sitting at my left leans over and whispers, “You’re doing great. We’re a lot to take on all at once.” Davis is every bit as good-looking as his older brother, but he’s got light brown hair instead of dark brown. Also, he’s not as intense. He seems like the strong, sile
nt type vs. the blatantly brooding type, which Beau seems to have covered.

  “Thanks,” I reply. Then I ask, “You live in Creek Water, too, huh?”

  “I do. I have a place downtown near the river. It’s close enough to see my family, but not so close that I don’t get some privacy.”

  I laugh, “I know what you mean. My parents live in SoHo. I moved to the Upper West Side as soon as I could to put a little distance between us. It was for the best.”

  “Can’t live with ’em, can’t live without ’em,” he jokes. We continue to chat amiably throughout the salad course.

  As the entrée is being served, Lee declares, “Davis, honey, come over here and sit by me. I need to talk to you about something.”

  Davis leans in and says, “She thinks I’m monopolizing you.”

  Jed stands up to switch seats with his son, but Lee smacks his arm and orders, “Sit down, Jed. Beau can trade places with Davis.”

  Beau, who looks like he has no intention of moving, turns to scowl at his mother, but she ignores him, and orders, “You go sit next to Lexi so I can chat with your brother.”

  Before relocating, Davis says, “Beau’s been through a lot lately. His bark is worse than his bite.” So, I’ve heard, but it doesn’t make me anymore excited to sit next to him for the rest of my meal. I’d normally enjoy the company of a handsome man, but this particular one does not seem to care for me at all.

  Beau sighs in resignation and turns to Shelby. “Do you mind if I move?”

  She waves her hand in the air and answers, “I couldn’t care less.”

  Those two appear to be no more of a couple than the waiter and I are.

  Chapter 11

  Once Beau is seated next to me, I lose all interest in the delicious smelling Beef Wellington on my plate. The nearness of this man is creating a butterfly storm in my stomach that I don’t think will mix well with food.

  I’m toying with the idea of standing up to get some fresh air when a new duo stops by our table. The woman looks like a drag queen caricature, with her teased-up hair and over-applied makeup. She’s got a sneer on her face that could scare an angel. The man with her is sporting a dark tan so fake it looks painted on.