Justified Love (The Southern Gentleman Series Book 1)

by Hite, Nicole

  For weeks, I would ask myself over and over, “Did I tell her I loved her enough?” Maybe if I did, she would still be here. I was a kid, what did I know? Night after night, I would curl up with her blanket, just to feel closer to her. It smelled like her for the longest time but eventually faded away. The day I couldn’t smell it anymore I cried myself to sleep.

  Curling up in dad’s office chair, I wrapped mama’s blanket around my shoulders. I brushed a tear away from my cheek, trying to make the memories fade away. There was no way I was going to let my father down now. He was counting on me. Thinking harder, daddy did say he had been paying the mortgage on the bank for years. That's got to count for something. Maybe I should start there. “Perhaps the money he already invested could be transferred to a partial payment for the house for the developmental company?” I said out loud. My hopefulness quickly turned sour when thinking about the remaining money. Even if we could apply the payments towards purchasing the house from the developmental company, we still needed to come up with the rest of the money, plus back payments. Maybe I just need to go to the bank and investigate a little more. Something doesn’t settle well with me.

  ●

  Pulling up to Avery City Bank, I parked next to a brand new Mercedes; decked out to the max. Damn, someone’s got some bling to blow. Must be nice having all that dough! I may have a pair of Louie’s, but I spent every last dime on them. I had never indulged in anything before, but felt it was an appropriate law school graduation present to myself. They may cost more than my apartment was worth, but I would wear them until the soles fell off if I had to.

  Looking through the driver’s side window, I saw a little tiara on the dashboard. Only one person would be egotistical enough to put a tiara on her dash. Peeking at the license plate, my suspicions were confirmed; PRINCE$$. Figures. Well, this should be fun.

  Pushing open the bank doors, I was met with the welcoming grin of Mr. Bucket; the security guard. Mr. Bucket had been a security guard for years. When I was ten, daddy took me to the bank for the very first time to start a savings account. Waiting to greet me was Mr. Bucket and his giant smile. He was an elderly man, but he loved greeting the people day in and day out. In all the years I lived in Avery; there was never a robbery. Mr. Bucket was more or less greater than a security guard. Ever since I was little, Mr. Bucket always said “Hello” and “Goodbye” while handing me a lollipop. God help him if there was ever a real emergency.

  “Good morning, Mr. Bucket.”

  “Well, me-oh-my, look what the cat dragged in – Carrington Mason.”

  Reaching in for a hug, “How’s my favorite security guard? Nab any burglars today?”

  “Not today Miss, but the day just started.”

  “What can I do you for, Ms. Carrington?”

  “I was wondering if I could speak to the branch manager.”

  “You mean Kiki Parker?”

  You have got to be fucking kidding me. Paisley must be her sidekick in command by the looks of her Mercedes out front.

  “I suppose I do. I need to speak with her about a loan my father has here.”

  “I don’t see why not. I think she’s with a client right now, but you can take a seat, and I’ll tell her you’re here.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Bucket.”

  Sitting in the lobby, you could smell the lingering after effects of cheap perfume; Paisley’s perfume. Just getting comfy, I was rudely interrupted by the tapping of Lee press on nails against the armrest of my chair.

  “Trying to fight your daddy’s battles, I see.”

  “Paisley, I don’t have time for your petty bullshit today.”

  “Well, that’s just too bad. I don’t know why you’re here. There’s nothing you can do about the loan at this point.”

  “I would rather speak to your mama about this then to talk to you about legal matters. I may use big words you can’t understand, and I don’t have time to sit here and spell them out for you.”

  “You always did think you were better than the rest of us, didn’t you?” she said.

  “Far from it, Paisley. You were the one making my life a living hell, not vice versa.”

  Right as we were getting in the throws of our verbal spat, Mr. Bucket approached out confrontation.

  “Ms. Parker will see you now.”

  Not saying another word to Paisley, I grabbed my briefcase and made my way to Kiki’s office. Reaching for the doorknob, I could hear the faint sounds of a man’s voice.

  I couldn’t make out the words, but leaning closer I almost fell on my face when the door opened. Standing in front of me, ready to catch me before I fell on my face, stood Shepley Wilson; Colt’s father.

  “Whoa there, Ms. Mason?”

  I had nothing. I was clearly snooping, and I didn’t know what to say. I opened up my mouth, and the only thing that came out was, “Swell.”

  Swell? What the hell? Are we in the fifties again?

  Chuckling, he stood me upright, not before I noticed the faint residue of red lipstick on his neck. Not wanting to make a big deal out of it, I pretended I didn’t see it and instead turned to face Ms. Parker.

  “Ms. Parker, Mr. Wilson, I’m sorry if I interrupted your meeting.”

  “Nonsense, Carrington. I was just leaving,” Shep said making his way through the door.

  “Ms. Parker. Ms. Mason.”

  “Ms. Mason, how can I help you today?” Kiki said offering a seat.

  Looking up from my documents, I tried to brush off the incident with Mr. Wilson, and decided to press on with my mission.

  “Right, I wanted to speak with you regarding my father’s loan.”

  “Ms. Mason, I am prohibited to talk to you concerning the loan without my attorney present, and even then, I still would not talk to you about it until court.”

  “I don’t understand why you are making this so difficult. I’m sure between you, the development company and myself, we can come up with a comparable solution to allow my father to keep his farm. It’s all he has left. I don’t think that’s too much to ask.

  “I assure you there is no comparable solution to this situation.”

  “If you are not willing to compromise on a reasonable solution, we need to talk about the fact you owe my father money for the mortgage payments he made while under the assumption the property was his.

  “As I stated before, you will need to speak with my attorney or wait until we go to trial, Ms. Mason.”

  “Let me guess, my father got the same song and dance?” I said standing up from my chair.

  “Good day, Ms. Mason.”

  ●

  Walking out of Kiki’s office, I heard my text messages go off.

  Man of My Dreams: Hi, beautiful.

  After a rough morning, I was so happy to hear from Colt.

  Carrington: Beautiful, huh?

  Man of My Dreams: Of course! I could have used gorgeous, sexy, charming, but I thought that might be overkill.

  Carrington: I wouldn't have stopped you if you tried if that makes you feel any better.

  Man of My Dreams: Yes! Remind me to use that next time.

  Carrington: I've got a few things you can do next time :)

  My big mouth is going to get me into trouble one day. Why the hell did I just say that?

  Man of My Dreams: Well, well. Looks like the high and mighty New York attorney isn't so innocent after all.

  Carrington: Who ever said I was innocent?

  Man of My Dreams: I do believe I like this side of you, Ms. Mason. Want to elaborate on this “next time?"

  Carrington: I can't give away all my secrets. A lady has to keep some sort of mystery to herself.

  Man of My Dreams: But why? The alternative is so much better.

  Carrington: “I’ve got moves you’ve never seen.”

  Man of My Dreams: My Best Friend’s Wedding…classic. Excellent reference.

  Wow, I didn’t expect he would actually get my reference.

  Carrington: Well done, Sherlock.
I applaud your movie knowledge.

  Man of My Dreams: How about this one, “You and I are such similar creatures, Vivian.”

  Carrington: Ha-ha. I’m a chick; of course I know Pretty Woman. You do realize the rest of that quote is, “We both screw people for money.”

  Man of My Dreams: I forgot about the last part. While we’re on the subject, you don’t fuck people for money, right? :)

  His sarcasm was endearing.

  Carrington: Last time I checked, no. You don’t have to pay me to have sex.

  Idiot! Open mouth; insert foot.

  Carrington: What I meant to say was, I enjoy sex, but you don’t have to pay me.

  Not any better, Carr.

  Carrington: I’m making a complete ass out of myself, aren’t I?

  Man of My Dreams: I was going to let you keep going. It was highly amusing on my end. And, I would never pay you for sex. If I wanted it, you would know.

  And, I’m pretty sure I just had an orgasm.

  Man of My Dreams: I need to change subjects before I become really inappropriate. Can you be ready around eight tonight?

  Carrington: I can. Anything in particular I should wear?

  Man of My Dreams: Now, that’s one I won’t touch, so to speak; however, I know anything you wear will be beautiful….

  Man of My Dreams…but if I had to put in my two cents, something lacy and pink

  Looks like someone isn’t afraid to put himself out there. I can play this game. Let’s see what you got tonight. I hope I’m not being too hopeful. Maybe Harley was right; maybe he’s just looking for a fuck buddy. In reality, it wouldn’t be so bad.

  Carrington: Down boy!

  Sweet mother this man has me worked up. I need to stop texting before he gets me into trouble. But then again, maybe I want that!

  Man of My Dreams: I can’t help it. You and your wicked mouth.

  Carrington: I’ll see you around eight, then. Now, go do some work before you get fired.

  Man of My Dreams: Impossible, unless my father wants to find a new employee.

  Carrington: Goodbye, Sherlock…

  Man of My Dreams: Are you trying to get rid of me, Watson?

  Carrington: Not at all, but I do need to find something lacy and pink to buy so, if you’ll excuse me

  Man of My Dreams: Evil woman. See you at eight.

  Chapter 9

  “Any luck with your Dad’s case,” Skye asked pulling up to Sadie’s Consignment Shop.

  “No such luck. I have a few options I might explore, but for now, I need to clear my head.”

  “Oh, I got something that could clear your head,” chimed Harley.

  “Only you, hooker,” I replied.

  “Did you find out what you’re doing tonight?” asked Harley.

  “Not a single, fucking clue. I was asked to wear something lacy and pink though. So, that’s exciting.”

  “He said what?” Skye chimed in.

  “We might have gone back and forth flirting this morning.”

  “Then we need to find you a banging outfit for tonight.”

  Stepping into Sadie’s I couldn’t help but feel nervous. Sadie was a slave to Paisley in high school. She never spoke a word when Paisley interacted with me. I guess her “place” was to be seen and not heard. Chalk it up to Paisley’s insecurities, where she needed Sadie and Reva to support her backbone. I often felt sorry for Sadie, and sometimes, I felt she felt sorry for me. I never gave into the notion that perhaps, Sadie was different. I had learned early on to trust a very select number of people, and maybe this was my chance to rebuild that trust with Sadie.

  Walking around Sadie’s shop, I had to admire the vintage collection of dresses, china and furniture among other things she kept. They were beautiful and reminded me of Granny and Mama. There were a handful of sundresses I found to be very much my taste. There was a pale yellow dress with white underlay, which made the skirt bounce when you walked. Another was lilac with tiny bluebells on the hem. This dress reminded me of rummaging through Granny’s armoire as a teen.

  Touching the pale yellow fabric, I was just barely fifteen years old when I found a mysterious note inside my locker one day. “Carrington, meet me at Lucky’s after school for a milkshake.”

  Of course, overprotective Harley immediately questioned its authenticity.

  “Did he give you the note himself?” asked Harley uneasy.

  “It was in my locker this afternoon. I’m almost positive that’s his handwriting, plus he signed it Colt,” I said defending myself.

  “I just want to make sure you’re not going to get burned, sweetheart. Paisley’s been awfully quiet these days. I’m nervous she is up to no good,” Skye joined in.

  “I appreciate you guys looking out for me, but I think I’m good. Now help me pick out something to wear!”

  “Are you sure Granny Bird won’t mind us being in here?” asked Skye.

  She always was the priss out of the bunch, but I guess out of the three of us, we did need a sane head.

  “Naw, she’s out in the garden picking tomatoes and turnips,” I said riffling through dresses.

  On the day I was meant to meet Colton I was dressed in one of Granny’s vintage sundresses. It was a baby blue halter-top that rouged at the chest, and gathered at the empire waist falling just at the knees. The dress looked like it had just come off the shelf of a 1950’s sock hop, which coincidentally fit since we were going to get a milkshake. I wore my hair up in a ponytail and smeared on some jelly belly lip balm.

  Taking my time I walked from the farm to Lucky’s, making sure to arrive at least ten minutes early. When I arrived, I didn’t see Colt’s bike parked outside, so I decided to walk in and take a seat at one of the booths. As I walked in, I waved at Mr. Bradshaw the owner of Lucky’s.

  “Hi, Mr. Bradshaw.”

  “Well hello there, Carrington. You look awfully pretty young lady. Any special occasion?” he asked quizzically.

  Leaning across the countertop, I whispered in his ear, “I’m waiting for Colt Wilson. He asked to meet him here after school.”

  “Is that so? Well, you better get yourself a booth before the school crowd comes in and takes all the booths, sweetheart.”

  As I was sliding into my booth, I swear I saw the chocolate streaks of Harley’s hair, but then again, almost everyone in this town had brown hair. Not thinking anything of it, I slide into the booth facing away from the door. I was too nervous to actually look Colt in the eye when he walked through the door. At least this way Mr. Bradshaw knew who I was waiting for, and would wave him over to my booth. Fiddling with my fingers, I kept wiping the perspiration from my palms; I didn’t want Colt to see me this nervous.

  A couple minutes later, I heard the singing bell of the door ring. My heart began to race and felt like it was drag racing in my chest.

  “Yes, what can I get you,” I heard in a slightly muffled voice.

  Not wanting to look, I kept staring ahead. Relax Carr. You’re going to be fine. You look beautiful, you smell great, and you don’t have a lock of hair out of place. Just then, I heard footsteps approaching my booth.

  “Look girls, it’s Muffin Top Mason. Aww Mason, why so dressed up? Have a hot date?” she said condescendingly.

  “No,” I said curtly folding my arms across my chest.

  “So, you mean you didn’t get a note in your locker asking you to show up here after school?” she asked.

  Harley was right. The Queen ‘B’ herself had duped me. I am so embarrassed. I just want to get out of here.

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought. See, Sadie did me a favor and put a note in your locker after fifth period. So I guess you won’t be having that milkshake after all Muffin. Oh, but wait, maybe you will,” she said as she dumped the contents of a chocolate milkshake all over Granny’s dress, and my perfectly done hair.

  I was humiliated. I tried not to cry, but there was no use. She had done it this time. I was so convinced Colt had written that note, but then again, why woul
d he leave me a note. Just as I began to wipe away the milkshake from my face and clean up the tears, I heard a commotion. Chairs skidded across the floor; I could hear Harley’s voice loud and clear.

  “That’s it, you bitch. Let’s take this outside so I can kick your ass. I am sick and tired of you treating my friend like garbage. She’s never done a single thing to you so why do you hassle her so much?” I could finally peek through my sopping hair to see Harley front and center. Fists up and ready to throw down, Paisley tensed up a bit realizing that I had inadvertently brought backup.