The girls stopped their singing and twitched nervously onstage in their matching pink-and-white polka-dot leggings and lightweight pink sweaters. “Tell me you hear this new high-pitched dolphin sound they’re doing, Waverly.”
Thankful for the distraction, Waverly turned away from the window—again. She needed to process the thin, strange twinge in her heart. This man turned his back on her, abandoned her without a word. What did it matter if Dominic returned to Southwood?
“Maybe we need to take a break?” Waverly offered, standing up. Her coral-colored toes wiggled in her brown leather gladiator sandals as she headed toward the break room. Lexi always kept snacks and drinks in the fridge to rehydrate herself after a jog around town while getting her back to her prebaby body. Waverly wished she’d look as good as Lexi had the day after giving birth. “We’ve been going at this for a half hour straight.”
This was her last appointment for the evening at Grits and Glam Studios. Waverly loved working with the local children, molding them into the perfect presenters onstage for pageants or whatever the need. Lately, with the Christmas holidays rapidly approaching, she’d donned her vocal coach hat when she wasn’t campaigning for votes for the runoff.
As if on cue, Andrew poked his blond head in from the kitchen. His cheeks were rosy and blue eyes sparkled with mischief. “Did someone say a break?”
“You know what?” Rhonda asked, standing up and smoothing down her red dress with gold accents. “We should probably head on over to church.” Her announcement evoked a whine from her girls. “I can’t see wasting your time anymore, Waverly.”
“Don’t leave,” pleaded Andrew. Waverly cocked a brow at him. “Waverly’s just received a special delivery, and I can’t imagine her keeping these to herself.” He stepped back into the kitchen. As the reigning Miss Southwood, Waverly often received bouquets of flowers or signature dishes from any event she attended. The flowers always went back to the newly opened Southwood Elderly Care Community Center. The food, Waverly often shared.
“I’m sorry for the interruption.” Waverly offered a smile of apology toward Miss Rhonda, the formal name she called her when they were in the studio. On the rare occasions Waverly hung out at happy hour, Miss Rhonda became Randy Rhonda on account of how crazy things got when her twins were with their father for the weekend. “I’m not expecting anything.”
“Don’t be sorry,” said Rhonda, patting Waverly on the back. “When other people get surprises, I feel like I’ve received one, as well. And this will give me something to report back at prayer services.”
Waverly gave Rhonda the eye—the one she learned from her mother, Jillian Leverve. Rhonda, also being a mom, recognized the eye and held her hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay. I’m just going to get my prayer on. My lips are sealed.” For emphasis or plain old show, Rhonda made a zip-and-lock motion with her hands against her lips.
Suddenly, the mouthwatering scent of sweet, decadent chocolate danced through the air. The twins squealed in delight, causing Waverly to spin at her piano bench. Her mouth nearly dropped to the floor at the oversize bouquet of cupcakes carried in by Andrew. The six-foot-plus assistant’s entire upper body was concealed by the cupcake arrangement. Only his legs and hands were visible.
“Can we receive the surprise, too, Mama?” asked Novella.
“Please,” Keisha chimed in, her brown hands folded under her chin as if in prayer.
“What on earth?” Waverly peered around the arrangement of cupcakes: chocolate with chocolate sprinkles or designs, French vanilla with fluffy flower drops, pink strawberry drizzled with chocolate and sliced strawberries. A trail of dark chocolate curls formed behind Andrew from his walk into the studio. A white gift card stuck out from a stem in the center of the peach cupcake and bore her first initial, W. Someone had clout. These cupcakes were made only during the summertime. It had been months since she’d had one.
“Someone knows you have a sweet tooth,” Andrew cooed, winking at the twins. Waverly held the card close to her chest, knowing he wanted to know who sent her these. He scoffed at Waverly’s attempt at privacy and focused on the twins. “Look, girls, these Pretty in Pearlicious Pink cupcakes match your dresses.”
“Someone doesn’t know I’m entering a runoff for the Miss Georgia Pageant.” Waverly groaned. She pointed toward the girls, who squealed in anticipation of her next few words. Waverly raised another brow at Rhonda. “I can’t eat these by myself. You guys will be doing me a favor if you take a few off my hands.”
With a playful dramatic huff, Rhonda reluctantly nodded. “Fine, if we must. But if I can’t fit into my Christmas dress, I’m blaming you,” she said, grabbing a caramel-swirled cupcake and licking off the creamy frosting. “Come on, girls. Let’s go.”
Waverly waited for the bells above the door to stop jingling as the young family left to pull the card away from her chest. Andrew still leered, but he knew all her secrets anyway. A man who knew your true weight was your best friend.
“What’s it say?” Andrew bounced in his red Crocs. “Who are they from?”
The strange feeling Waverly couldn’t describe from a few moments ago came back as she read the letters on the card.
“Holy hell, Waverly.” Andrew gasped. His shoes squeaked against the hardwood floors. “Mmm, Thanksgiving might be over but I certainly know who I’m thankful for. Did you see who reopened up shop across the street?”
No need to turn around. Waverly knew. “Yes.”
“After three months of radio silence, Dominic Crowne is back in town?”
Not able to take it, Waverly turned around to face the window. Her shoulders brushed against the stargazed Andrew. The lamp in the garage flickered above his head. There was no mistaking Dominic’s handsome face or his cockiness. He had the nerve to salute her before disappearing inside.
“Yep,” Waverly said, “and he wants to see me at my earliest convenience.”
* * *
“So do you think your little trick worked?”
Dominic turned toward the sound of his sister’s voice. His eyes needed to adjust to the lights being turned back on inside Crowne’s Garage. Alisha stood by the register and flipped through three months’ worth of mail. By now Dominic’s molars were in perpetual pain after grinding his teeth together to keep from saying something hurtful to Alisha. Thanks to her, Crowne’s Garage had been abandoned for the last three months. Mayor Ascot took it upon himself to post vacancy signs on the doors. Dominic was sure the act was petty and malicious, but he had other things to worry about besides dealing with the cowardly man. When Dominic took off to Arizona, Alisha considered herself to be on vacation, as well. He should have had a clue when he booked her Thanksgiving flight out of Miami. Without telling his siblings, Dominic flew out to care for their estranged father. When the end came near, he called the rest of the family in time, and they buried John after finally getting years of hostility off their chests. Not much of a great Thanksgiving weekend. Dominic chartered a flight for him and Alisha to return to Southwood this morning. Their brothers, Darren and Dario, were coming back to Southwood for the holidays in a few weeks.
“Tiffani told me you paid her folks a lot of money for the cupcake arrangement you sent over,” Alisha went on. “What did you write in the note?”
“I wrote in the note,” he began, “for her to come over at her earliest convenience.”
Dominic didn’t expect to see Waverly anytime soon. She probably hated him for leaving her in the dark for three months. After the runoff announcement back in August, he had every intention to speak with her, but the call about his father’s near-death experience took precedence. Dominic would have been damned before letting his father die without giving him a piece of his mind. He took off without a word, fully expecting to bury his father before September rolled around. Damn John Crowne and his penchant for hanging on to dear life and linger
ing just until Thanksgiving. Dominic had embarrassed himself by not getting in touch with Waverly.
Because of his visit to John’s alleged deathbed in August, the man hung on to life for a few more months, causing Dominic to break his promise to Waverly. He’d promised to help her out in gaining her Miss Georgia crown. He hated having to go back on his word. He felt like a heel for doing so, especially with John being the reason. Dominic had seethed with burning anger when John did not die right away. Dominic had wanted to curse the man and return to Waverly. But the moment Dominic had stormed into John’s hospital room and locked eyes with his father, something changed. John Crowne, barely sitting upright, began bawling and apologizing. He was embarrassed for anyone to find out he’d caved so easily. For the first time in his life, Dominic experienced forgiveness and in doing so, a Zen feeling had washed over him. He needed to stay for closure. By October, Dominic had decided on what was best for Waverly and her quest for her next tiara. He’d kept tabs on her winning over crowds at the Labor Day picnic held in the park, judging a Halloween contest for the kids at Four Points General Hospital and arriving on a float for the Veterans Day parade. Dominic even went as far as following the pageant world on social media. Waverly stood out from the other Southern pageant queens forced into the runoff. If everyone voted today, she would win hands down. Even the vicious memes of Waverly losing her Miss South Georgia crown died down and were replaced with other things going on in social media.
In order for Waverly to continue on her successful pageant path, Dominic wondered if it was best to stay away. Besides, Waverly probably hated him by now or at least wrote him off. Dominic didn’t blame her. He’d dropped everything for a man who never gave his family a second thought. Dominic and Waverly had been on the way to something—what exactly, he wasn’t sure, but they had a deep connection.
Alisha scoffed and tapped a political flyer for a local election on top of the credit card machine. “She’s Miss Southwood. Tiffani says she’s rarely in town, you know, doing all those beauty queen duties and campaigning to secure her spot for the Miss Georgia Pageant.”
“I know exactly who she is,” Dominic bit out, trying to remember Alisha’s naïveté. She had no clue of the damage her vacation had done. He should have told her from the beginning about John’s illness. Dominic had meant to protect his siblings by not telling them about John at first. He’d left a note at Crowne’s Garage for Alisha that he’d had to leave town. Alisha had assumed Dominic went off on another business trip. “I’m the one who made sure she got the tiara.”
“You bought her the dress and paid the entry fee under your bogus Miss Crowne’s Garage title,” Alisha said with a droll eye roll. “I’m pretty sure her beauty had a lot to do with it.”
Ah yes. The thought of Waverly’s pretty heart-shaped face made him smile, wiping away all the frustration. A few moments ago he’d been able to spy on her before the power kicked back on and exposed his position like some stalker. When he stepped outside to get some air, he’d spied her long legs, the same thing that had attracted him the first time they met. Tonight Waverly had been wearing a pair of sandals that wrapped around her calves and went up to her knees. One day soon he was going to find out how nice it was having her legs wrapped all the way around his waist.
“Hey.” Alisha snapped her blue-painted nails in his face. “Earth to Dominic. Keep or throw away?”
Dominic focused on the flyer for the election they’d just missed. “Throw it away.”
“What do you have here?” Dominic picked up one of the stacks Alisha sorted.
Hamilton the pig grunted at his feet, almost causing him to trip. “Move, pig.”
“Don’t be mean to him,” Alisha said, poking out her bottom lip. “He’s been through a lot.”
A lot, meaning Hamilton had to fly out to Arizona with the rest of the animal cargo. Alisha didn’t get an official letter claiming her need for emotional support. “Whatever, Alisha. I still can’t believe you put him in a suit for Pop’s funeral.”
“You got mad at me for putting him in a tutu, so make up your mind.”
“I’m trying to make up my mind as to whether or not I’m going to fire you,” Dominic growled. Thank God he was able to make it to city hall this afternoon to get the lights to the business turned on, and that they’d honored his six-month advance payment by turning them on a few minutes ago.
“I didn’t realize your bill wasn’t automatically paid out of your account. You ought to keep a record of it.”
“Like a bookkeeper?”
Alisha’s light brown face lit up. “Yeah, exactly.”
Pressure built against his temples when he gnashed his teeth. Dominic resisted pinching the bridge of his nose. Alisha had been through a lot already. Reminding her she’d screwed up his business wasn’t going to help. Did she maliciously leave without making sure someone was in charge? No, Dominic answered himself.
“You started up Crowne’s Garage out on your ranch a year ago,” Alisha went on, defending herself. “I figured when you opened a garage in town, you were good with the banks and they just worked the light bill into your rent. How was I supposed to know?”
“Don’t worry,” Dominic said finally. “I’m sending you to school to learn.”
Dominic ignored the protesting whine from his sister, aware she hated school. Funny, considering that school had saved him from a life of misery like his father. In the last few conversations Dominic had with his father, John explained his fear of not being good enough for his family since he did not have an education.
“I hate school,” Alisha announced. “I’m not good at it like you.”
“You’ll learn to love it.” Dominic pushed away from the register and stormed off into his office to change into a work jumper. He didn’t have a lot of overalls in the shop—another thing messed up when he’d left Alisha in charge. She forgot his dry cleaning. Tomorrow he’d have to go to the cleaners and pick up his overdue items. Alisha was still sorting the mail when he came back through the garage. She rolled her eyes. Dominic expected the silent treatment for the next few days. No skin off his nose; Dominic welcomed the silence. He went back to work, stretching his six-foot-five-inch frame down on the rolling creeper.
And in his absence and with Alisha’s mistakes, Dominic lost his mechanics and additional staff. Dominic reminded himself to take responsibility for the demise of Crowne’s Garage. He never should have left Alisha in charge. Hell, it was a good thing he’d bought her condo flat out; otherwise she’d be out of a place and would have to move in with him at the ranch.
Dominic didn’t realize he’d been so engrossed until Alisha kicked the bottom of his work boot. “I know you can hear me.”
“I’m working, Alisha.”
As if to verify, Hamilton crawled underneath the old vehicle and sneezed, stirring up more dust and dirt. Dominic tried to move out of the way of the pig and ended up cutting a line, which leaked thick black liquid on the front of his coveralls.
“What are your plans with Waverly?” Alisha asked.
With a clamp, Dominic stopped the leak, but he’d still stained the material of his coveralls. Dominic maneuvered his shoulders to get out of the top portion. “What?”
“I need to be clear,” said Alisha. “I mean, if I run into her, I need to know what to say.”
“I don’t need you to help,” Dominic grunted. “I can manage all by myself to ask Waverly to help me look good in front of everyone.” The sneeze he’d been holding in blasted out, causing Dominic to hit his head on the pipe above him.
“Bless you.”
That did not sound like Alisha’s voice.
Using his feet to help roll him out from underneath the car, Dominic found himself staring up at Waverly’s equally shocked face.
* * *
The original bravado Waverly felt disappeared when Dominic
rolled out on the wheeler and stood up. A hard lump formed in her throat, causing her to lose focus and her words. Had Dominic’s muscles got bigger in his absence?
Dominic leaned against the hood of the car she’d seen Mr. Myers, the retired high school history teacher, drive around town on Sundays. A slow, cocky grin spread across his face. “You came.”
From where she stood in his garage, braced against the back of a maroon Toyota, Waverly cocked her head to the side and admired the pair of coveralls he wore. The front was opened and pushed down, exposing the white T-shirt that stretched across the taut muscles of his chest and gripped those giant biceps of his. Waverly licked her lips and dragged her eyes from his body.
“I was curious about what you needed to say to me.”
“I’m sorry,” Dominic breathed.
Waverly shrugged. “For what? You didn’t do anything.”
“I abandoned you.”
A lump formed in Waverly’s throat. “You were embarrassed. I understand.” She was ashamed of her actions. Dominic didn’t want to be around a woman with so much drama.
“Embarrassed?” Dominic choked. “For what?”
“My behavior at the hospital.”
“Your behavior?” He laughed. “You mean the way you went into full-on beast mode at that brat? You never looked sexier.”
Feeling naked, Waverly folded her arms across her chest. “The words sound like a compliment but your tone is more insulting.”
“Never insulting.” Dominic’s deep, calm voice sent a ripple of chills down Waverly’s spine. “The city loves you. They voted you Miss Southwood.”
Waverly waved off his flattery with the flick of her wrist. “I was voted in by a panel of judges, one of whom happened to be your fraternity brother.”
“Are we going to stand here and argue over your popularity again?”
A Tiara Under the Tree Page 9