Magnolia Market (9780310330585)

by Christie, Judy

  If ever there was a time to look like old-money Samford, this was it.

  As she approached the front door, her courage wobbled. The shop’s lights didn’t seem as cozy as they had two days ago. Two women gathered near the dressing room, visible through the bay window—one of Avery’s favorite shop features.

  Evangeline was nowhere to be seen, but the omnipresent T. J. was on a ladder near the rear of the showroom. He had been kind so far, so maybe this was a good sign.

  Avery sucked in her breath. She had to enter if she was going to live with herself.

  T. J.’s head turned as the bell on the door jingled. He threw a quick look at Avery and then his eyes darted to the pair of women. His raised eyebrows made her feel like an intruder, but then he grinned and she relaxed.

  The two, in an animated conversation, hadn’t paid attention when Avery entered. The older woman gestured to the front window. “We’ll have to tear this out to make enough room. We can move the entrance over here for a more up-to-date look.”

  A sound slipped from Avery’s mouth, and the pair pivoted, scrutinizing her. “What a darling outfit,” the younger woman, about Avery’s age, said. “Did you buy that here?”

  “I chose it at market. I’m Avery Broussard, the manager here.” She gave a tentative chuckle. “Or former manager.”

  A puzzled look settled on the face of the older woman. Maybe in her late forties, she wore a traditional black suit from a less expensive line the boutique didn’t carry and a pair of flats Evangeline wouldn’t be caught dead in. “Are you visiting Samford?”

  Avery shook her head. “Samford’s my home.”

  “We heard you relocated.”

  “Maybe we can lure her back,” the younger woman said in a low voice.

  “Are you the interested buyers?” It seemed a small blessing that Evangeline was not here to ambush her.

  The older woman chuckled. “We’re more than interested. We have a contract. We’re with The Fashion Group out of Dallas. We have stores in twelve states and plan to add twenty sites by the end of this year.”

  “But it’s been so fast,” Avery blurted out.

  “I wish. We’ve been finalizing this deal for weeks.” Her voice dropped. “The owner’s not the easiest person to deal with, and she spends a lot of time at her beach house.”

  Crazy, the younger woman mouthed, glancing to the back of the store. She wore a more expensive outfit, a short wool dress with knee-length boots. She looked great, and her attention kept straying to T. J. “Would you be interested in working here again?”

  Avery took in the racks of clothing she had ordered, displays she had arranged, the candle whose scent reminded her of her mother. She avoided looking at T. J. She had come here to beg for her job, hadn’t she?

  But the word yes couldn’t seem to get past the knot in her throat. “I don’t know.”

  The older woman reached into her pocket. “I’m Sharon Denton, senior vice president. Here’s my card if you want to visit further.” She smiled at Avery. “You look as though you understand the market, and we’ll need immediate help with renovations.” She glanced at T. J., her voice lower. “We’ll bring in our own crew, of course.”

  Avery felt as though she had stumbled into an alternate universe. “Are you really thinking of closing up that front window?”

  “Definitely. It restricts the look of the front.”

  Avery frowned. “That’s one of our most popular marketing devices. The displays draw customers like—well, like women to a dress sale.”

  Sharon smiled. “It is quaint, but we prefer a more standard look for our stores. That way people know what to expect from one location to another.”

  “But what about the personal atmosphere?”

  “Our customers like a high-end sophisticated approach,” the younger woman said.

  “I agree with the sophisticated part,” Avery said, “but our shop’s unique personality drives sales.”

  “Pardon the interruption. That call took longer than expected.” Evangeline’s voice tinkled from the back before she rounded the corner. When she saw Avery, she couldn’t have moved across the room quicker if she had been on a zip line.

  She planted herself between Avery and the visitors. “Avery, as you can see I have guests.”

  A crash sounded from the back of the showroom, and everyone turned. “Sorry.” T. J. climbed down the ladder. “Tape measure got away from me.” His eyes focused on Avery. “My apologies.”

  She took advantage of the distraction to step around Evangeline toward the duo. “It was nice meeting you. I’d love to talk with you again.”

  “Avery!” Evangeline’s voice snapped. “If you would join me in the workroom.” Her fake smile did not reach her eyes. “This will only take a moment.”

  “We’re all set and headed to the airport in Shreveport anyway.” Sharon clapped her hands. “This will make an outstanding location for our brand. We’ll be in touch to finalize inspections.”

  “Excellent.” Evangeline escorted them to the door after throwing Avery another frown. “I expect a quick closing. As you know, I have another interested buyer and am eager to conclude the sale.”

  Avery swallowed. Did she still have a chance?

  After they had gotten into their car, Evangeline whirled around. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Owning the store has been my dream. You know that. Am I not allowed to make a counterbid?”

  “The Fashion Group has outstanding credentials. They will run the boutique as it ought to be run.”

  “You snatched the shop out from under me to sell to a chain?”

  “They approached Ross with a generous offer.”

  “Ross was in on this?” Avery couldn’t hide her dismay. “Did he know you were closing my accounts? Shutting off my utilities?”

  Evangeline glanced at T. J. and lowered her voice. “Don’t you mean the Broussard accounts?”

  “My paychecks went into those accounts.”

  “To cover housing and automobile costs, plus a host of other expenses. We’ve carried you for a year.”

  “Carried me?” Avery gestured toward the showroom, her eyes stopping on T. J.’s back. He didn’t seem the type to broadcast Broussard dirty laundry, but she pitched her voice low. “Without me, The Fashion Group—nor any other group—would have been interested.”

  “You couldn’t possibly come up with the money to match their offer.” Evangeline smoothed her already-smooth hair.

  “At least they’re willing to keep me on.” Avery straightened a silk T sliding off a nearby hanger. “That will give me time to figure out what to do.”

  Evangeline frowned. “Didn’t Scooter give you the check?”

  “He did.”

  “And you’ve cashed it?” Evangeline’s voice was climbing toward victory.

  “I have no intention of taking that money from you.” She fingered a cashmere sweater. “Working for a corporation instead of a family business might be interesting, right?”

  “You’re not staying here.”

  “I’ve put my heart and soul into this shop. I’m sure they’ll appreciate my approach to retail.”

  “You’ve always underestimated me. I don’t know what Cres saw in you.”

  The real question was what Avery had seen in Cres. From the first months of marriage, she had been tortured by her lapse in judgment. She would start anew.

  Evangeline lifted her chin. “You still don’t understand what it means to be part of a powerful family. I put a provision in the sales agreement that you are not to be rehired.”

  Avery fished the business card out of her pocket and twirled it in front of Evangeline. “I doubt a big company like that will agree to such a request.”

  “It was not a request. Cash our check and go back to Lafayette. You have a month or you’re left with nothing.”

  “Why now? You strung me along for a year, leaving me to work while you were at the beach.”

  “I was in s
hock.”

  “You mean you didn’t know how to spin it? Because if I left too soon, your friends might wonder . . . might not canonize Saint Cres.”

  “I will make things as unpleasant as needed to get you out of our lives.” She glared at Avery’s wedding band, a Mignon Faget band Cres gave her when she had balked at the Broussard family diamond. “Being difficult will hurt you more than us.”

  Avery took a look around the shop. Frowning, T. J. took one step down the ladder.

  “One month,” Evangeline said. “Cash the check and be gone.”

  From the middle of the ladder, T. J. watched Avery. He wasn’t sure how someone could walk in shoes like that, much less sprint in them, but she took off like a wild animal was on her heels. Which it might as well have been.

  The color had drained out of her face in the time she had been in the store, and she looked smaller, as though the conversation with Evangeline had shrunk her. And no wonder. The woman sounded like a mob boss about to take the kill shot.

  “Avery,” he called, but she was already to the door and did not turn around.

  Evangeline walked to the counter. “That girl has caused my family nothing but trouble.”

  “We can’t let her leave like that.”

  “I did not hire you to involve yourself in my family business.”

  As though he weren’t already.

  He climbed from the ladder, then headed toward the door.

  “If you follow that woman, you’re fired. And I’ll tell all my friends how unreliable you are.”

  “Do what you want, Evangeline.” His mother was going to love this. He had told Bud this job was a bad idea. Letting Avery go alone would be like leaving a puppy by the side of the road. And he had told Ross he would keep an eye on her.

  Flinging the door open, he heard Evangeline sputter behind him. Headed toward the street, Avery stumbled off the sidewalk, the spike heels sinking into the damp grass. She looked one way and then the other.

  The rain had started again, and he wished he had grabbed his jacket. “Avery!” he shouted.

  “Leave me alone.” She hugged her arms around her, a near replay of two nights ago at her house.

  “Are you all right?”

  “I’m wonderful.” Her head bobbled like a broken lawn sprinkler as she looked up and down Vine Avenue.

  T. J. took a cautious step closer. She was shaking, and the rain had increased to steady misery. “What can I do to help?”

  She turned. “Are you colluding with them? Is that why Ross called you the other night?”

  “Ross and my brother are friends.”

  She sniffed. “Ross was the only Broussard I trusted, and he betrayed me.”

  He drew back a half step. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I can’t see Ross being part of it. He’s worried about you.”

  “Thanks to my dear in-laws I’m out of work, out of money, and I don’t have any utilities.” Water rolled down her face—rain, not tears. “For that matter, I’m out of a husband too.”

  “Let me take you home.”

  “I don’t want to go there.”

  “To a friend’s house.”

  “I don’t have any friends.” The statement was made without drama, and she walked up the street at a brisk clip. “I’ve been cut out of the Broussard circle.”

  He caught up with her. “Of course you have friends.” He had been away so long he hadn’t a clue. “Church? College buddies?”

  She was silent, her chin set, her long legs eating up the sidewalk, the rain a biting downpour. He hadn’t been this cold when he fixed a neighbor’s leaking roof that morning.

  He put his hand on her shoulder, and she jerked away. “I want to help you.”

  “Haven’t you been listening to Evangeline? You’d do well to steer clear of me.”

  “I’ll risk it.” Avery was the most interesting woman he had encountered since returning to Samford, even if she was tied to that elite crowd he didn’t care for. “I can drop you at a hotel, or at my mother’s . . .”

  “Right. Your mother is going to take a complete stranger in.”

  This wasn’t the time to mention she was not a stranger to his mother. And his mother would throw a conniption fit if he showed up with Avery. “How about Ross’s?”

  “So the entire town of Samford can talk about how I ran into the arms of my brother-in-law when my mother-in-law threw me out?”

  “Ross is in Baton Rouge. Why shouldn’t you stay at his place?”

  “I wouldn’t do that to the poor guy.” She tilted her head. “You don’t have a lot of experience with gossip, do you?”

  “More than you might think.” T. J. had been gossiped about since the first weekend he went with his brother to stay at Bud’s house. For two decades, the town had speculated about who T. J.’s real father was, and his mother had complained that he had let her down.

  He strode forward and stopped in front of Avery, blocking her path. “You’re going to get sick if you keep walking in this weather.” He gave a rough chuckle. “And if you don’t care about yourself, at least care about me because I’m freezing.”

  Avery put her hand to her wet hair for a moment. “I’m sorry.” She turned and her face lit up.

  T. J.’s heart felt a peculiar warmth.

  Until he saw that her joy was aimed at a taxi turning into the boutique parking lot.

  Chapter 7

  The mechanic wiped his hands on a blue rag and repeated himself to Avery.

  “Yesterday morning. The tow-truck driver signed for it. Said the owner had decided to turn it in and lease something else.”

  “But that’s my car!”

  In his midthirties, with a stitched name tag that said Davis, he shook his head. “Not according to the dealership. The sales manager verified it when I called. Said the car is registered to a local business, a dress shop of some sort.”

  Avery breathed in the smell of oil, popcorn, and air freshener and sank into a chair in the office. “You were going to give me an estimate today. We spoke yesterday morning.”

  “They sent the tow truck right after that, and you didn’t answer your phone when I called. That vehicle was banged up pretty bad, so you might be glad it’s gone.”

  “But I need transportation.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “Is there something I can do?”

  She exhaled. “It’s not your fault. I just need a ride to . . .” Where? She couldn’t go to work. The house was cold. “I need a ride to the market.”

  He pointed to Kathleen on the phone in the rental, and the side of his mouth upturned.

  “Maybe your friend will give you a lift.”

  “She’s not my friend. That’s the woman I ran into.”

  “No wonder she looks annoyed.” He made a face, which would have been cute if Avery hadn’t been miserable, waved at Kathleen, and tugged on a strand of his hair. Nice, he mouthed and rolled his eyes.

  Kathleen swatted her hand at him.

  She had appeared on Avery’s doorstep again that morning, demanding her money. Avery surrendered another piece of her shrinking pride and asked for a ride to the garage. “The sooner I have transportation, the sooner I can get your money. It will only take a few minutes.”

  “It’ll have to be early. My boss is stressed, and I can’t afford to be late again.” Now Kathleen talked on her cell phone, giving the rental-car horn two quick taps when Avery looked her way.

  “We’ve got a couple of used cars, if you’re in the market for a vehicle,” the mechanic said. “They don’t look like much, but they’re cheap.”

  Cheap. That was new. She was wrung out and hungry. Even the stale popcorn made her mouth water. “Thanks for the offer, but I’ll get my Tahoe back.”

  “Sure thing.” His voice held doubt.

  Kathleen popped out of the car before they reached it and gave the guy a hearty hug. “What’s the deal?”

  “Another misunderstanding,” Avery said. “My car’s not here. My in-la
ws had it hauled off.”

  Kathleen ran her hands through her hair, making it stick up even more. “Those people really don’t like you, do they?”

  “I’m getting my independence back,” she mumbled.

  “You could have fooled me.” Kathleen looked back at the mechanic. “I have to get to work, Davis. Can you give Avery a ride home?”

  He nodded. “I have to wait for one of the guys to get here, but we’ll work something out.”

  Avery felt like a teenager in the midst of a carpool debate. “I don’t need a ride after all.”

  “So you’re going to walk home?” Kathleen asked.

  “I’ll think of something.” Her stomach emitted a growl.

  Davis looked at her. “The church has a food pantry, if that would help.”

  “I’m not homeless!” Avery said.

  “She’s touchy,” Kathleen said.

  He stepped closer. “I didn’t mean to offend you. Everyone falls on tough times now and then.”

  “I haven’t fallen on tough times. My mother-in-law is trying to run me out of town, but I’m not leaving.”

  “See what I mean, Davis?” Kathleen muttered. “Get in the car, Avery, and I’ll drop you off. Make it snappy.”

  He fished in his shirt pocket and pulled out a card. “Here’s my number, if you change your mind about a used car—or about the food pantry.” He paused. “We have a clothes closet too.”

  Kathleen gave him another hug. “Thanks, sweetie.”

  “I don’t think it’s polite to call your mechanic ‘sweetie,’ ” Avery grumbled as she got into the rental.

  With her bold laugh, Kathleen started the car. “I don’t know how I could have gotten through these past few years without him. He’s my nephew.”

  “Did he really suggest I need clothes?”

  “There’s a dozen reasons not to ask you this,” Kathleen said as they drove off, “but I can’t seem to resist.”

  Avery closed her eyes.

  “Why are the Broussards out to get you? I mean, my mother-in-law wasn’t crazy about me, but she didn’t sabotage my life.”

  Debating whether to reply or jump from the moving car, Avery fiddled with her bracelet. “She wants me to move back to Lafayette.”