by Zuri Day
Hand pressed to her heart, Waverly gasped. “But...”
“You’ve already eaten one,” Tiffani repeated, “and you still have another one on your plate. Don’t be greedy. This gentleman has traveled far just for this.” She held the plate in the air. Waverly watched as a crumb fell to the ground, much like her heart right now.
“If you already ordered this,” said the man, “by all means, have it.”
“No,” Waverly said, shaking her head. “I probably need to watch my figure.”
The man leaned toward the right for a better look at Waverly’s backside. She’d been in beauty pageants in nothing but a bikini and heels, yet she’d never felt more like a piece of meat than right now. Waverly bit her bottom lip, not sure if she needed to be offended. Given the way she’d been eating her feelings and comforting herself over poor choices, Waverly felt heavy. With the recent weight gain, his lone raised brow of approval thrilled her.
Tiffani cleared her throat. The man shook his head and gave his attention to the cashier. Waverly took the moment to walk back to her table. To prevent further embarrassment, Waverly kept walking, straight into the ladies’ bathroom. In private, away from prying eyes, the man’s in particular, Waverly clung to the clean white counter. The coolness of the marble chilled her palms, soothing the heat that rose inside her soul and tinted her cheeks a deep pink. In her quest for the tiara, Waverly had let dating fall by the wayside. Her last serious boyfriend was four years ago. Johnny Del Vecchio. He was her first crush, first everything. The local bad boy had swept Waverly off her feet and onto his motorcycle. His street racing antics helped call attention to the pageant committees and shine a spotlight on her tightrope walk on the bad side. The desire for the tiara eventually lured Waverly onto the right path.
Once her sun-kissed tan began to return, Waverly took a deep breath and headed back out into the dining area. In any other city, she would have taken her belongings with her, but Waverly knew her cupcake and classified ads were okay. The only thing different at her table was the black-and-white polka-dot box next to her plate. She immediately recognized the to-go carton, since she’d brought several home with her over the last two weeks. Waverly glanced toward Tiffani in question, only to be given a dramatic eye roll. Safe to say Tiffani wouldn’t be needing personal guidance with the pageant this evening. Waverly fingered the bow at the top of the box to loosen the card.
“It’s yours.”
She couldn’t. Waverly scooped up her belongings and headed out the door. Sunlight blinded her momentarily until she shielded her eyes with her hand. She wasn’t in the bathroom so long that she’d missed the stranger. Waverly didn’t see him in the first direction she looked, but found him the other way, at the corner.
“Hey,” Waverly called out to him. “Sir?”
The man turned toward Waverly. He wore a pair of silver aviator glasses. “Did you get my card? My name is on the back.”
Flipping the card over, Waverly silently read the raised letters. Dominic Crowne, Crowne’s Garage. “Well, Mr. Crowne, I can’t take this,” Waverly said, shoving the box out to him. He held his large hands toward her and shook his head. “At least we can share. Maybe we can go inside and get a knife.”
“First of all, the name is Dominic, and second,” he said with a wink, “I don’t share. Anything.”
His deep voice and blatant flirt sent a chill down her spine in the summer heat. “You’re pretty bold, Dominic.”
“Because I offered you the last cupcake?” Dominic asked. “Most people say I’m chivalrous.”
“You’re flirting with me when your girlfriend is in there.” Waverly nodded toward the bakery.
“Who, Tiffani?” Dominic’s deep voice rose an octave. “Why would you...? Never mind. There’s been a misunderstanding.”
“Obviously,” said Waverly, still pushing the cupcake toward his massive, broad chest.
“Tiffani is a family friend.”
Did Tiffani realize they were just friends? Still new to Southwood, Waverly didn’t know what families were related or who everyone’s best friend was. Waverly knew a handful of people—Lexi and her family and then, of course, Jolene, Lexi’s cousin and Waverly’s former roommate at Cypress Boarding School for Girls. What she did know was Tiffani’s kindness to her. Clearly the girl had a crush...understandably.
“Friends.” Waverly mimicked his word.
“Yes,” Dominic confirmed. He pressed the cupcake back toward Waverly. Their hands brushed and a spark was set off between them. Waverly took a step backward. He took a step toward her. “Do us both a favor—give me a call.”
Waverly stood still, her heart beating rapidly against her rib cage until Dominic Crowne crossed the street and disappeared into the crowd of pedestrians. She pondered whether to toss the business card and the cupcake into the trash. The last thing she needed right now was a relationship. No, she said to herself, the best thing for her was to focus on a new set of goals and get back on track to achieving her ultimate dream, Miss USA, starting with obtaining the Miss Georgia title. After Waverly’s heartbeat returned to a normal state, she made a drastic decision...she decided to keep the cupcake.
* * *
“You’re back sooner than I expected.” Alisha Crowne glanced up from her stack of magazines—not quite the welcome reception he expected from his little sister.
Dominic turned the open sign over to close the garage, disappointed there wasn’t a line of cars in the driveway, but there were two in the lift and that meant something. At least they weren’t the same ones up there when Dominic had left for Dubai two weeks ago.
“Will Ravens flew into town for some event,” Dominic explained and ignored the dreamy sigh Alisha made at the sound of his fraternity brother’s name. Dominic’s frat brother Will recently became the CEO of his family’s corporation, Ravens Cosmetics, and was in town for some event. “Where is everyone?” Dominic asked, looking around.
He’d opened Crowne’s Garage in Southwood in hopes of getting the townsfolk to come here rather than his ranch. Growing up poor in Miami, Florida, Dominic had known his mother could not afford to bring their hunk of junk to a mechanic every month, nor could she afford a newer car. At a young age Dominic learned how to fix the family vehicle. Eventually Dominic opened up his own garage. Miami was too busy and crowded for his classic car collection and the ranch land in Southwood seemed like a perfect place to relocate. A write-up in the local paper sent people in town to his place and flooded his driveway with cars needing routine services. In order to keep his privacy, Dominic opened up a shop in town. He liked restoring vehicles.
Twenty-one-year-old Alisha blew a bubble with her bright pink gum and shrugged. “I mean, I told everyone to leave.”
“Why?”
“Because there’s nothing to do here and there’s a whole kickball-slip-n-slide tournament going on right now.”
Dominic bit the inside of his cheek to keep from saying anything too rash. He’d made the decision when he moved to Southwood six months ago to bring his party-going sister with him. Their mother, Angela, was at her wit’s end with Alisha. She wasn’t in school and hung out with a fast crowd in Miami. Ten years older than his sister, Dominic had become the surrogate father to Alisha and their brothers, Dario and Darren, when their father left them. Dario and Darren were at least on the right path in life and in college, even if it were every other semester, and staying out of trouble...usually.
“And what about the cars here?” Dominic hiked his thumb toward the vehicles in the air.
“Gee, Dom, the parts haven’t arrived in the mail like we expected,” Alisha said through a forced smile. She picked up a stack of letters. “I know what I’m doing.”
Because the stack in her hands was so thick, Dominic questioned her last statement. “I ordered the parts three weeks ago, before I left.”
“
I know.” Alisha handed Dominic the stack of mail addressed to him. “And I need you to go through these as soon as possible. You never responded to the District Planning Committee about sponsoring a contestant.”
Dominic’s left eye twitched as he wondered what his sister was talking about. “What?”
“There is a beauty pageant this coming weekend and I know you want to put up a few more garages in town.”
“Okay?” Dominic said, humming to himself. No one could compare to the beauty he’d met this afternoon—sort of met. He never caught her name, but Dominic promised himself once he did, he’d never forget it. The cupcake girl was unlike any woman Dominic had met in a while. After spending two weeks in Dubai and enticed with vapid, gorgeous women who ate nothing but lettuce, Dominic enjoyed seeing a woman with a healthy appetite. Having practically raised Alisha, Dominic was well aware of how women behaved around men. Alisha and her friends pigged out at home but pretended to be on diets on dates.
The trip to Dubai had been half pleasure and half business. His other college friend Aamir Assadi requisitioned Dominic’s help with a few vehicles and insisted he come to Dubai to deliver them personally. Aamir sent his private plane for Dominic and set him up in his family’s high-rise condominium. When he learned Will planned on coming to Southwood, Dominic wasn’t heartbroken to cut his time overseas short to accommodate Will’s arrival. Owning three different garages and two restoration shops in South Florida allowed Dominic to expand up north, to serve a larger clientele without distraction from city life. Dominic had purchased a ranch-style home on the outskirts of Southwood. The large space of open pavement was a huge selling point for test-driving the horsepower of his restored vehicles. In emergency cases, he might be asked to use the paved land for life-flight helicopters. Dominic kept the strip clear of parked cars, so landing on the makeshift airstrip had cut down on travel time for Will and hopefully opened up time for the friends to hang out and catch up.
“Tiffani still needs a sponsor.”
Dominic did not need his sister’s fast best friend thinking there was a future for them. Sponsoring her would not clarify things. “Tiffani’s parents own The Cupcakery. Why aren’t they sponsoring her?”
“They are, but if you’re willing—”
“I’m not.” Dominic cut her off. “I don’t have time for a pageant or the drama of one, Alisha. Try again.” He pushed away from the counter and headed off toward his office.
“You need to become more involved with the community,” Alisha hollered after him. “Folks are still bringing their cars to the mechanic in Peachville. Tiffani knows people. She can be an asset.”
Dominic let the glass door close without a care about the rattling frame. A sigh of relief escaped from the back of his throat. No more hotel rooms. No more surprise visitors knocking on the door. While Dominic wasn’t the best cook, he at least would have something he made without feeling guilty for all the richness...maybe even a protein shake, and then he’d hit the gym. Dominic strolled over to his desk, wondering why he didn’t stay home. When Aamir’s private plane landed on Dominic’s property to drop him off, he should have just stayed home instead of coming in to check on the garage. Alas, Dominic knew he came because the garage was his baby.
The walls in Dominic’s office were adorned with pictures of some of his work: the first car he’d restored, the celebrities he worked with and the first garage he opened up when he turned twenty. Not bad for a kid who almost dropped out of high school. Dominic glanced up at his diploma, framed by his family. His mother had been so proud to have a son earn a full scholarship to Stanford, especially when they grew up on the wrong side of the tracks.
A stack of paperwork teetered on the corner of his custom-designed desk. The hood of the 1969 Camaro had been stripped from the rest of the body and turned into a desk in a twisted form of revenge from an old friend of his who’d found his car-loving wife with another man. Dominic stretched before sitting down. The door to his locker room was still closed, but he knew his coveralls were waiting for him. He’d spent the last two weeks showing off the Ferrari and Porsches he customized for Aamir, but now he was ready to get started working beneath the hood of any of the cars. Being underneath a four-thousand-pound car soothed him.
Instead of getting up to change, Dominic sat and decompressed. His mind went back to the woman at The Cupcakery. For once Dominic wished he’d listened to Alisha and got more involved with the community. He sponsored Little League games. Several peewee baseball teams bore the Crowne’s Garage logo on the backs of their shirts. He never went to a game long enough to get to know anyone, though. Growing up and taking care of everyone in his family had never left time for Dominic to socialize. Alisha, on the other hand, had been out the first weekend she moved here. In order to keep her safe and from driving out to his ranch so late at night, Dominic bought Alisha a condo within walking distance of the garage. The two-bedroom place worked out fine for him as well when he worked later than expected in the garage.
Rapid, hard knocks banged against the glass and the door opened before Dominic had a chance to say anything. Alisha appeared in the doorway, hand on her hip.
“Please,” Dominic said, waving her inside. She didn’t budge but instead huffed. “What?”
“I’m heading out now.”
“Okay?” Dominic asked in a slow drawl.
“You forgot, didn’t you?”
Dominic returned Alisha’s huff. “Apparently so. What’s up?”
“You were going to watch your nephew this evening.”
By nephew, Alisha meant her teacup pig, Hamilton. Dominic wiped his hands down his face. “Alisha, I just returned.”
“Yes, from a vacation without me while I stayed here and ran the garage,” she reminded him. “When you told me how long you were going without me, you promised me the minute you got back you’d babysit. And you’re back. Perfect timing, too.”
“Alisha.”
“Dominic,” Alisha whined and bobbed her knee—the telltale sign of an adult temper tantrum. “C’mon. I won’t be out long. I’ll even buy you a pizza.”
With his stomach rumbling, Dominic was sold. But he couldn’t let Alisha know. “Fine, I’ll do it.”
“Good,” his sister squealed. “I’m going to leave to get ready. I’ll see you in a few?”
“I suppose.”
There were a few things Dominic needed to go through before leaving. He preferred to go straight home, but a promise was a promise. His father, John, made the biggest promise ever and let everyone down. “I’ll be back” was more than a line from a futuristic cyborg. The last words John had said to the family had stuck with Dominic forever. He hated to let anyone down, especially anyone he cared for. Dominic flipped through his mail and spotted the familiar return address from an Arizona home. Like he did with the other letters he received since setting up shop in Southwood, he threw it away.
Dominic lingered in the office for a little bit while Alisha and her friend got ready at her condo. He saw no need to sit in Alisha’s frilly living room and dodge Tiffani’s attempts at flirting. It wasn’t like Tiffani wasn’t pretty—she was—but she was also his sister’s good friend, which meant she had a lot of qualities like Alisha. Dominic wanted a woman with goals in life. Alisha cared about the next party and Dominic blamed himself for always indulging in her demands. His mind wandered to the woman at the bakery as he lifted his hand to knock on his sister’s door. He shook his head at the idea of asking the cupcake woman if she wanted to get paid to stand around and look pretty at some pageant.
The door opened before Dominic had a chance to knock. A wave of scent from a sweet-smelling candle swooshed through the opening of the door. Tiffani popped her head out.
“I thought I heard the elevator.”
Alisha lived in one of the newer condominiums in Southwood. It was built in a square with a court
yard down below in the center. The elevator closer to Alisha’s place was out of commission. The other elevator was down the hall on the other side. How Tiffani had heard the elevator when he took the steps was beyond him. Had she seen him pull into the parking lot from Alisha’s balcony?
Rather than embarrass her, he nodded. “Yep, that was me.”
A pink teacup pig wearing a pink tutu wedged his snout in the door crack. Tiffani stepped aside to let Dominic in. Once Hamilton finished sniffing him, he began to hop around Dominic’s black boots. A load of laundry tumbled in the dryer in the room to the right of the foyer. Dominic proceeded down the hall, passing the guest bedroom he slept in on the nights he worked too late and the kitchen to the left. The island bar was home to a number of expensive bottles of wine. A pile of folded laundry sat on the edge of Alisha’s glass-top table. In the living room Dominic found clothes on top of the long pink-and-gray-plaid couch. The gray recliner was covered with a pink blanket with Hamilton’s toys. The only thing open was a love seat. With Tiffani hot on his tail, Dominic chose to stand in the center of the living room and play it off as if he wanted to check out the view from the glass doors leading out onto the balcony.
“So, how’s business?”
Small talk. Great. “Business is fine,” Dominic answered politely. “I’m guessing since there was one peach cupcake left, business is good for you, too?”
“Oh, yes, my mama is pleased with the sales.”
Dominic nodded in agreement. In his research of where to set up shop, Southwood’s business scene was exploding with mom-and-pop shops. The only thing not growing was the club scene, and Dominic was fine with that. The sooner the ladies left, the sooner they’d return and Dominic could get back to the ranch.
“I should have made a new batch for you tonight,” Tiffani suggested.
“No, really.” Dominic shook his head and patted his gut. “I don’t need any more.”
“Any more? You gave the last one away,” Tiffani shrieked. The corners of her mouth turned down in a frown.