by Unknown
Now what? Sam thought, wondering what had set her off. She sounded like she was close to having a major meltdown, and he debated jumping in his jeep and taking off. He suddenly noticed her veil fluttering by in the breeze, taking the tiara with it. Like a kite, it flew to the top of a tree and became lodged in the branches.
He started for the deck. “Is there a problem?” he asked once he cleared the steps and stood behind her.
“Unzip me, please,” Annie said, offering him her back.
Sam blinked several times. “Excuse me?”
“I can’t fit through the doorway, and I can’t force myself through without tearing this stupid skirt to smithereens.” She paused and pointed to the damaged metal on the doorjamb. “I need for you to please unzip me,” she repeated.
Sam was reluctant to involve himself further in the woman’s problems, but once he saw the problem, he understood why Annie was so upset. He knew Darla would have his head on a platter if she found out he had refused to help Annie and it had resulted in damaging the gown.
It was not easy getting her out of the dress; Sam figured there must be a hundred yards of satin and crinoline. But from the moment he ran the long zipper down her back, almost to her tailbone, she had his undivided attention. Her skin was like alabaster dipped in rose petals. The sight of her bra and panties gave him pause. While the flesh-colored fabric offered a certain amount of decorum, Sam could not help but notice she was physically fit but curved in all the right places.
“What’s wrong?” Annie asked. “Are you embarrassed that I’m in my underwear?” She might have been embarrassed as well had she not been tired, hungry, and irritable.
“Why should I be embarrassed?” he asked. “I’m fully clothed.” He wasn’t about to admit that he found her sexy as hell, and when Annie leaned forward to retrieve the dress and shoes, Sam thought he would have a coronary when her lush breasts threatened to spill from her bra.
“You, uh, don’t seem to have a problem with modesty,” he noted.
Annie just looked at him. “Would you rather I squeal and try to cover myself?” she asked. “Forget it. I’ve always been very athletic, and I try to take care of myself, so I’m not ashamed of my body. Nor do I embarrass easily when it comes to naked men.”
Sam arched one brow. “Oh?”
“My brother did not always remember to lock the bathroom door so I was introduced to the male anatomy at a very young age.”
Sam pondered her words. “So, you lied.”
Annie glanced his way. “I beg your pardon?”
“When I was trying to prevent the sheriff from arresting you for stealing your father’s limo, you made it sound like you were the only heir.” Not that Sam actually believed Hester would throw her in jail.
“My twin brother died ten years ago in an auto accident,” Annie said sharply, “so I was not lying.”
“I’m sorry, first for your loss, and, second for accusing you of lying. I’ve been hanging around Sheriff Hester too long. Losing your twin must’ve been—” Sam paused, trying to think of the right word. “Excruciating,” he finally said.
“Yes,” she said, “which is why I did not feel like announcing it in front of half the town.”
Sam nodded. “That’s understandable.” He didn’t blame her for keeping quiet about her brother’s death during all the excitement, but he wondered if she had planned to set the record straight without him bringing it to her attention. If the sheriff checked her out and discovered she had lied about being an only heir, without checking the circumstances, which Hester was known to do, he would take great pleasure in making fun of Sam’s “fancy street lawyering,” as he called it. He would have accused him of being swayed by a pair of pretty green eyes or her daddy’s money. That sort of ribbing bothered Sam in the beginning, but as time wore on he developed thick skin, and frankly, he didn’t care what people thought of him.
Annie noticed Sam was trying to keep his eyes on her face, but his gaze wavered below her shoulders several times. “Is this the first time you’ve seen a woman in her underwear?” she asked.
Sweat beaded his brow despite the cool September evening. “Yeah,” he said, “and I may as well tell you, I’m disappointed as hell.”
She nodded, amused. “It shows.” She looked at the mound of satin and crinoline at her feet and sighed. “Guess I need to do something with this,” she said. “If I hadn’t already promised it to Darla, I would just put a match to it.”
It took a good half hour and was quite a task, but Annie managed to turn the dress inside-out, unhook several “extra” layers of crinoline, and, with Sam’s help, fold each one as best they could.
“It doesn’t have to be perfect,” Annie said. “The dress will need to go to the dry cleaners. Darla will probably want to preserve it for future use. At least we can get it through the doorway now,” she added, passing him the crinoline. “Have you, by chance, seen the veil?”
Sam pointed upward. “It’s in the top of that tree.”
“Oh, great,” she said, her words riding on a sigh. “I don’t have time to worry about it right now.”
“But the tiara is barely hanging on. Aren’t you concerned?”
“I’ll look for it tomorrow,” she said. She was suddenly eager to use the restroom after hours of trying to convince herself she did not need to go.
She carried the satin dress and jeweled bodice up the two metal steps that led to Darla’s living room. She came to an abrupt halt. “Yikes!” she said.
Sam was right behind her, his eyes glued to her round bottom. He almost slammed into her. “What is it?” he asked, then glanced past her. “Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you. Darla’s grandmother was a big Elvis fan. When she passed away she left her Elvis memorabilia to her only granddaughter.”
“Wow,” Annie said. She stood in the small living room, holding her dress, gaping at souvenirs, collectables, decanters, and various keepsakes of the man who had amassed a fan club of many millions. “I’ve never seen anything like this,” Annie said. Sam stepped inside the room holding her crinoline slips, and the room seemed to shrink in size. “It’s like a museum,” she added.
Sam nodded. “My thoughts exactly,” he said, “but you’ll never convince Darla that it’s a bit much.”
Neither of them said anything for a few minutes. Not only did Annie need to visit the powder room, she suddenly felt self-conscious standing there in her underwear. “I need to get dressed,” Annie said. “After that I’m going to drink about a gallon of water.”
“You must be thirsty,” Sam said.
“Yes, very.” Annie had no desire to explain why she was craving water. She had already shared too much by traipsing about in her underwear. “I suppose the bedrooms are that way,” she said, nodding toward a door leading off the kitchen.
“There is only one bedroom,” Sam said.
“Oh. Well, I hope the sofa is comfortable. I’ll try to hurry.” She went through a doorway and entered a short hall that led to the bedroom. It was neat, the bed made, everything seemed to be in its place, no Elvis memorabilia to crowd the room. She dropped the dress on the bed, and ducked inside the tiny bathroom. After seeing to her most pressing needs, she grabbed a glass on the sink and drank two glasses of water in a matter of seconds.
Annie felt much better. She returned to the bedroom where she’d left the gown in a big lump on Darla’s bed. She knew how excited Darla was to receive it so she spread it out neatly and smoothed the wrinkles. She hoped Darla had better luck wearing it than she’d had. Finally, she opened Darla’s closet and was greeted with a wardrobe that had been popular in the ‘80s. She searched for something that was less trendy at that time.
#
Sam dumped the mountain of crinoline on the sofa and sank into a chair, closing his eyes to block the Elvis clutter. He heard Annie moving about in Darla’s bedroom and hoped she would soon be ready to leave. He could tell she did not like him—in fact, they both seemed to rub each other the wrong way—whic
h was odd since most women liked him just fine. He wasn’t bad to look at, and he was a successful attorney—well, as successful as one could be in a town the size of Pinckney, Georgia—and he was easy going and tried to get along with everybody. He liked to think he could be counted on. Of course, none of that was likely to impress a woman like Annie Hartford.
He had read all about her father in Money Magazine, which had listed his net worth and pictured his iron and steel facility. A blueprint, or diagram of sorts, had shown the sheer magnitude of the facility and state of the art equipment. The man looked like a pit bull; a bully, someone accustomed to have his way or else. The only kind word Sam had read was regarding the Foundation set up in the Hartford name and run by Annie.
What Sam had seen of Annie so far, excluding her hot looking body—was not impressive. She had breezed into town in a stretch limo that was worth only Lord knew what, in a dress that had obviously cost a fortune but meant so little to her that she had given it away. If she was anything like her father then she was bad news; a hifalutin’ society queen whose only interest in a man was his breeding and the size of his bank account. And what of Eldon; her betrothed? How had he taken the news that his bride had sneaked away in her daddy’s limo, just to get out of marrying him? Not to mention all the guests—probably hundreds—who had expected to see a wedding unlike anything they’d seen before. Who had made the announcement that there would be no wedding? All these things raced through Sam’s thoughts like tickertape.
When Annie returned to the living room, she found Sam slumped in a chair, seemingly deep in thought. He took one look at her outfit, a navy shirt dress with large golden sunflowers, thick black socks, red tennis shoes that looked like clown shoe, and just shook his head.
“What?” Annie asked. “Too loud? Darla has a thing for sunflowers and her feet are at least a size bigger than my size seven.”
“Forget the clown shoes. That dress is a little short, isn’t it?” he said, trying not to ogle her long shapely legs.
“I tried on several,” Annie said. “I’m taller than Darla so they’re all short. I didn’t want to spend any more time searching. I know you’re in a hurry to get back to the restaurant before your dinner crowd shows up.”
“Just be careful,” he said. “This town has its share of rednecks and bikers. If one of them takes a liking to you he might decide to make you his woman.” Sam was exaggerating again, but he knew if there was trouble, Annie was likely to be right in the middle of it.
Annie notice he had not taken his eyes off her legs since she had entered the room, and she could not help teasing him. “Why don’t you come right out and say it, Sam. You like my short skirt because you like looking at my legs.”
He sighed and shook his head. “See, I knew you would take it the wrong way. I should have kept my mouth shut and let you take your chances.”
She could not hide her amusement. “So, you don’t like my legs?”
“I did not say that. I think they’re fine.”
“You know what I think?” Annie said, unable to resist, even though it was a struggle to remain straight-faced. “I think you like my legs and want to make me your woman.”
Sam almost gaped, then figured she was teasing. “No, thanks,” he said, coming to his feet. “You’re far too complicated and high maintenance for me.” He headed for the door. “I don’t need all that drama in my life.”
Annie frowned at the somewhat stinging remark as she followed him out. Complicated? High maintenance? Sam Ballard obviously did not know her well, but then, how could he since she had only landed in Pinckney a couple of hours earlier. True, the circumstances of that meeting had been anything but normal so she could not blame him for thinking she had . . . issues.
“Well, now,” she said, after locking the front door and pocketing the key, “I do believe I’ve been rejected by Pinckney’s most eligible bachelor. I hope you won’t mind driving me to the nearest bridge so I can jump.”
Sam laughed as they walked toward the Jeep. “I must write Eldon and tell him what a lucky man he is to have escaped holy matrimony with you.”
Annie got in on the passenger’s side and strapped on her seatbelt. She waited until Sam joined her to speak. “Eldon is probably crying over a bottle of expensive scotch as we speak. He knows he lost the best thing he almost had, a woman with a filthy rich daddy who was grooming him to take over an iron and steel dynasty.”
Sam glanced at her, and his look softened. “So that’s the way it was, huh?”
“Yes, but I don’t want to talk about me,” Annie said. “I want to hear all about your life here in Pinckney. Do you have a girlfriend? Oh, what a silly question; I’ll bet you have a dozen girlfriends,” she said, before he could answer. “I’ll bet you’ve got one special girl, though, don’t you? Let me guess. She is uncomplicated and almost never requires anything of you, meaning she is very low maintenance. I’ll bet her name is Lulu, and she’s got boobs the size of cantaloupes. Am I right?”
Sam shook his head as he turned onto the main road leading into town. “You know, just when I think I could like you, you go and blow it for me.”
They made the rest of the drive in silence. When Sam parked in front of the Dixieland Cafe, Annie politely thanked him for everything and climbed out. “Give Lulu my best,” she said before closing the door.
Sam shook his head as he watched Annie walk into his restaurant. The woman was an enigma. She had just admitted that her fiancé had only wanted to marry her so he could get closer to her daddy’s money and take over the man’s company. If that was the case, why had Annie gone on the run? Why hadn’t her father sent the fiancé packing instead? It sounded suspicious. Annie had already lied once, although he did not hold it against her considering the circumstances; but he couldn’t help wonder what else she may have lied about. He had been fooled once by a woman; he was determined it would not happen again.
#
Darla whistled when she spied Annie in her sunflower dress and red tennis shoes. “Kinda short on you, kiddo,” she said. “Too bad you’re not waiting tables, we’d have to get a Brink’s truck to haul your tips home. However, the shoes might be a turn-off. You want a cup of coffee? It’s fresh.”
“I would love a cup of coffee,” Annie said. “Until I got to your place my poor stomach had not seen food or drink in about sixteen hours. I may have drunk your well dry.”
“Why were you not eating or drinking?” Darla asked.
“That wedding gown is a real bear getting in and out of. Heaven forbid if you have to visit the little girls’ room.”
“What if I have to, you know, tinkle?”
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you,” Annie said. “It’s next to impossible. I did not put anything in my stomach or drink water after ten p.m. the night before.”
“But what if I can’t hold it?”
“You have two choices,” Annie said. “You grab a couple of your closest girlfriends and have them hold up the dress while you, well, you know.”
“Are you kidding?” Darla said. “Two women can’t fit in a bathroom stall with me and that dress.” She lightly bopped her forehead with the ball of her hand. “What am I thinking? I won’t be able to fit in a stall in that dress. What’s the other choice?”
“You have someone call the Fire Department, tell the dispatcher a woman is trapped in fifty pounds of crinoline, and they need to bring The Jaws of Life.”
Darla grinned as she filled a mug with the freshly brewed coffee and placed it in front of Annie, along with a glass of ice water.
Annie added cream and sugar and took a sip. “This is so good,” she said.
“Sounds like we need to feed you before you starve,” Darla replied. “Do you like fried chicken? Saturday is fried chicken night, and our cook, Miss Flo, makes the best in the world. Her daughter, Patricia, works in the kitchen also, and she specializes in biscuits, pies, and various other deserts.”
“But I don’t have any—”
&nbs
p; Darla held her hand up. “Please don’t talk to me about money,” she said, “because I will reach across this counter and smack you.”
“Fried chicken sounds perfect,” Annie replied. “To tell you the truth, I’m so hungry I could eat soggy cardboard.”
“Oh, bummer,” Darla said, “We don’t serve soggy cardboard on Saturday night. That’s our Wednesday special.”
“Remind me to make reservations.”
Darla scribbled the order on her notepad. “I’ll put a rush on it,” she said.
As Annie sipped her coffee, she replayed in her head all that had taken place that day. She had decided to go ahead and marry Eldon after the harsh words she and her father had exchanged in his office the night she’d tried to call off the engagement. She knew married couples who still lived together long after their passion for each other had subsided. What some of them did instead was develop a passion for something else, usually some form of volunteer work. Since Annie already performed volunteer service, she had planned to increase her hours once she married Eldon. Her father would have to find someone else to throw his dinner parties and run his many errands because she would insist on moving, and if Eldon wanted a peaceful marriage, he would go along with it.
Annie thought she had settled it in her mind, but the morning of her wedding she was jolted awake by a suffocating panic attack and a sense of dread unlike anything she’d ever experienced. She realized she did not want to live a passionless marriage; she wanted to know what real and lasting love was like. She would always regret any embarrassment she’d caused her father by taking off like she had, but she would never regret leaving.
Except for Vera. Annie hoped she had not gotten Vera and Snedley in trouble by taking off like she had. She desperately wanted to call the woman, but her emotions were too near the surface to speak to her.
Darla set a plate of fried chicken in front of her. “Looks good, huh?” Darla said.
Annie forced a smile as Darla refilled her coffee. “It looks great.”