by Ava Miles
Beau gave the woman his full attention and smiled, practically beaming star power, the kind Arthur had seen in other great celebrities at showtime. After interviewing people for decades, he recognized when they turned it on, and Beau sure as hell had just turned it on. This was a side of Beau he hadn’t seen in France.
“Well, it’s the darndest thing when you realize you’ve been dressing the same way since you were a kid in school. You know I started out in country music when I was sixteen, and it’s like I got trapped in some fashion time warp. While I was in the countryside of France, I came across this man who seemed so comfortable in his skin. He wasn’t wearing jeans and a button-down shirt, like I was used to. Maybe men are different than women, but I decided I wanted a makeover, something new and different to better showcase the man I am now. I was lucky to find a married couple who ran this wonderful boutique. They helped me blend some new threads with my normal look.”
“I’m going to have to borrow that jacket sometime, Bubba,” Rye said with a determined wink. “My wife likes the velvet.”
“I couldn’t pull it off in a million years,” Jake added, smiling.
The commentator laughed. Everyone smiled. Arthur glanced at Caitlyn. She wasn’t smiling. Yet.
“I have to agree with Rye’s wife,” the woman said. “I like the velvet jacket too. And with the jeans and the boots? Ladies, am I right? This is a really good look, Beau.”
Female cries and a shower of applause followed her prompt, and the camera panned to the crowd.
“Y’all are going to make me blush,” Beau said, waving his hand when the camera panned back to the interview. “But thank you kindly.”
“Wait until you see his upcoming wardrobe change,” Rye said. “I’d like to say he stole it from my closet, but this was all his idea.”
“Oh, we can’t wait,” the host said. “You’ll all be performing two songs in just a minute, but we also wanted to talk about the new product you’re promoting.”
Beau nodded. “Yes, but it’s not Ryan Williams’ cologne like the press release said.”
Caitlyn’s mouth dropped open, and Michaela stood up and said, “Oh. My. God.”
“Okay, I’m glad you dragged us all out of bed, Uncle Arthur,” Flynn said, turning his chair around to face the TV. “Listen up, Caity girl.”
“I’m listening,” she whispered.
“That’s been quite a boo-boo,” the host said gently, but her eyes reminded Arthur of a hawk ready for some meat.
“Yes,” he said, “it has. You see, my mama has been my manager since I first started my music career, and it’s a tough thing for me to admit we’ve hit an impasse. I recently learned that Walt Masters wasn’t my real father, and it put some pressure on our relationship. While I was away in France, she made the decision to sign with the Ryan Williams people without talking to me.”
Caitlyn stood up next to Michaela, and Arthur smiled as he saw them reach for each other’s hands.
“My goodness, that must have been terribly upsetting,” the host said.
Arthur could tell the woman hadn’t been briefed on this part of the interview because she fumbled her notes.
“It was, especially since I was in France with the owner of the perfume I still hope to promote. It’s a new venture from Caitlyn Merriam, and it’s called Cherish.”
Caitlyn gasped. “How did he know—”
“I told him,” Michaela said, looking at her sister. “I’ll tell you about that later.”
“Listen to the interview, Caitlyn,” Arthur barked out. If he wasn’t mistaken, Hargreaves’ mouth twitched.
“I wanted to help share this perfume with y’all because the message speaks to me. Caitlyn hopes to make women around the world realize they deserve to be cherished. Not just by the men in their lives, but by themselves. That’s a concept I can get on board with. I figure women work really hard, and they need to be told more often how much we appreciate them.”
Nicely done, Arthur thought. He took another look at Caitlyn. She had tears falling down her face. A good sign. He nudged Clara and noticed she had tears streaming down her cheeks too. Good God. No wonder the other patrons in the restaurant were staring at them.
“I’m guessing this wasn’t just a business deal for you, Beau. The famous picture that blew up over the internet,” the woman said. “That was of you and Caitlyn Merriam.”
“Yes,” he said, a smile touching his face. “I hadn’t planned on falling completely in love with her. I mean, I loved her perfume proposal when I read it. We were like kindred spirits. Her heart was in her vision, much like I always try to put mine in my songs. She’d invited me to visit her farm in France, and I went there to clear my head and write some songs after finding out about my real father.”
“It must have been a horrible shock to her when the press release went out about Ryan Williams,” the woman said, her eyes narrowing.
He shook his head and his sigh gusted out. “Yes, and I can’t blame her. Thankfully, the Williams people have been very understanding. I’ve parted ways with my mama as my manager over the incident. I can’t have anyone speaking out of turn for me, not even my mama. Plus, they deserve someone who believes in their product as much as I do in Cherish.”
“I can’t wait to smell this perfume,” the woman said. “It sounds like every woman needs it. We’ll be back with one of Beau’s new songs after the break.”
Michaela fell back in her chair. “Caitlyn, you’d better get this perfume out fast. Everyone is going to want it.”
She was staring at the TV. “I can’t… I’m not…”
Arthur stood and patted her shoulder. “How about we cross the street and watch Beau perform? We have tickets.”
Caitlyn gaped at him. “We do?”
“We figured if he said something good,” Michaela said, “really good, you might be open to going. This is good, all right.”
“I’d say,” Flynn said, hauling himself out of his chair.
“He really loves me.” Her big green eyes were shining, and she was all gooey now.
“Of course he does,” Arthur said, pocketing the rest of the red hots before Clara swatted his hand away to stop him. “That was never in question. He just got tangled up with his mother’s lies. This is when I tell you he called me from the plane and asked me a question, one I expect came from your Perfume Jedi.”
“What did he ask?” she whispered.
He handed her his ever-ready handkerchief. “What do you do when someone you love lies to you or makes you a party to their lie? The thing is, I think he already knew the answer.”
“He called his mom out on national TV,” she said, blowing into the handkerchief.
“He should have. No one—not even blood—should ever get away with something so wrong. Come on. We have a show to catch.”
Caitlyn took one last look at the TV before running to the front door, calling, “Hurry, everybody.”
“I’ll pay the bill and catch up,” Arthur said, shooing the others from the table, including Hargreaves, who only gave him a bland look. Clearly, he didn’t take to being shooed. Flynn wasn’t all that biddable either—he pulled cash out of his wallet, insistent on paying, and took Arthur’s arm. So long as they were on their way, Arthur didn’t much care.
Caitlyn and Beau’s future was assured.
He whistled the whole way to the show’s entrance, sure he could sweet-talk the producers into letting them backstage and keeping them out of sight until Beau was finished performing. Beau would likely turn into a tongue-tied moron upon seeing the woman he loved. Plus, the young couple deserved a fast exit so they could talk things out and kiss and make up. He was starting to like this gig.
Clara might call herself a budding matchmaker, but he was crowning himself with a new name after today.
He was the Matchmaker Jedi.
Chapter 30
Beau strummed his guitar in one last broad stroke to end the song.
The crowd was cheering, applause
washing over them like a rainstorm. Rye strolled closer. “I’d say ‘Sometimes Country, Sometimes Confident’ is a sure-fire hit. Go change, Bubba. This next one is you alone.”
“She’s not here,” he told Rye, scanning the rows of people again.
“Not yet. Keep up the faith.”
He nodded and strode off stage to change outfits. God, he was shaking. All through the interview and performances he’d hoped and prayed this would change things between him and Caitlyn. But Arthur and Clara hadn’t brought her. Well, he couldn’t blame them. It had been a lot to ask.
He kept his hopes up. She’d hear about the interview. And his performances. If this didn’t work, he’d try something else. He wouldn’t give up so long as she loved him back.
Clayton appeared in his dressing room with Georgia in tow. “Your real dad wants to talk to you after the show. Vander called him first thing this morning. Told him about today’s interview.”
He fumbled with the ties on his leather vest, his heart knocking in his chest. “He did?”
“Focus,” Georgia said, clapping her hands together. “Clayton, did I teach you nothing? You don’t drop a bomb like that on a man before he performs. Beau, we have a minute to get you back out there.”
“Sometimes performers need a kick,” Clayton said with a drawl. “You’re killing it out there, man.”
“Yes, you are.” Georgia pulled Beau by the vest for emphasis. “Okay, Rye has your other guitar. Go out and nail this.”
He rushed out, the show’s staff a blur as they counted down from commercial. Rye held out his new flamenco guitar and took up his position off camera alongside Jake.
The man behind the camera pointed to him, and he smiled at the tiny metal box. “My real father is from the land of flamenco guitar, and I wanted to honor that. This song is pretty special to me, and it’s going out to the woman I call Sunshine.”
He bent his head and let his fingers pick at the guitar, the melody playful yet haunting.
I didn’t expect to find
A love beyond all time.
Didn’t know lavender was as blue as the sky.
Didn’t know I’d yearn to hear a baby goat’s cry.
The country was familiar in a way.
The earth chalky and sometimes gray.
The answers I sought were tough.
I figured I had it pretty rough.
But then I found love among lavender.
The purples and the blues wrapping around me and my woman.
The soil was warm when I laid her down,
And loved her that first time.
Couldn’t believe a love like this could be mine.
But the storm came in.
That blustering north wind.
And it tore at her hair and mine.
I felt her heart break.
Knew what was at stake.
Couldn’t let her go.
I had to be the one to say no.
Tell the storm to go on its way.
With my heart, it would have no sway.
The image I hold dear.
Of her with me in those wild, spicy fields.
That baby goat crying.
The blue sky surrounding us.
Love among lavender.
He sang that last line one more time, his fingers picking at the strings. Opening his eyes, he let himself shrug, trying to come out of that deep place he went when he played. The cries and cheers from the audience washed over him.
Before he gathered himself enough to glance at Rye and Jake, he knew he’d nailed it. Then he froze. Caitlyn was standing beside Rye, who was smiling from ear to ear and pointing at the woman he loved.
The show’s host came onto the stage as he stood on unsteady feet, his guitar slipping in his sweaty hands. “Wasn’t that the most beautiful love song ever?” she asked the audience. “And we’re all loving this leather vest and your new image. If you ask me, more men should show off their chests. Thank you, Beau, for sharing your new songs exclusively with us.”
He could barely do more than nod and say, “Thanks for having us.”
Then he was walking off stage, and Caitlyn was running to him.
* * *
Beau scooped her up off her feet and turned them in a circle.
“Thank God,” she heard him utter three times in succession before he lowered her back down on the ground.
Since her head was already spinning from the mad dash to the show and his beautiful love song, she simply clutched his vest and said, “You went back on your word for me.”
He cupped her face, his eyes a brilliant blue-gray. “No, I kept my word. To you.”
“Way to go, Beau!” Michaela shouted, giving a shrill whistle.
She and Beau looked over. Flynn and Uncle Arthur and Aunt Clara were smiling like crazy, giving each other high fives as Michaela danced in place. Hargreaves gave her brother a pointed look, one eyebrow arched, when he held up his hand. She found herself laughing at the sight. Rye Crenshaw and Jake Lassiter waved at her, full smiles on their faces.
“Yeah,” Rye called. “Go, Bubba!”
The whole crew started to applaud, and then Beau took her hand. “Will you come with me?”
She nodded, and he led her backstage down a hallway to an open door. God bless Uncle Arthur for outing her as Beau’s “love among lavender” and convincing one of the crew to let them hide backstage until he finished performing.
“Georgia. Clayton. Can you give us a moment?” He drew her inside, past a red-haired older woman and a handsome man who looked to be their age. “We can make introductions later.”
The red-haired woman only patted him on the chest as they left. The younger man favored her around the eyes, and Caitlyn wondered if they were mother and son. Then Beau closed the door and held out his hands to her. She took them.
“Caitlyn, it wasn’t right, what Mama did—or what I did in response. I couldn’t lose you over it. I hope you can forgive me.”
She shook her head. “After what you just did? On national television, no less. Beau, you’re more than forgiven. I’m sorry too.”
He drew her to him slowly. “If you’re willing, let’s agree to a clean slate. I’d hoped you’d come today, and I still plan on setting things right with the rest of your family, but there’s something I wanted to talk about with you, and I find I can’t pass up this moment.”
Sinking to one knee, he pulled something out of his jeans pocket. It was a pink diamond, but in the light, it almost looked lavender to her. Being her kindred spirit, she somehow knew Beau had seen the lavender in the stone too and had selected it for that reason.
“I bought this yesterday with a lot of hope,” he said, looking up at her. “Caitlyn Merriam, I love you and promise to cherish you every day we’re together. Will you marry me?”
Cherish her. Exactly like her perfume. It was the sentiment she’d always wanted to feel for herself—and from the man she loved. “Yes, Beau Garcia. I’ll marry you.”
He pulled her down next to him on the floor, her arms banding around him. “You had to up and say my new name, didn’t you?”
“Does knowing it make you feel cherished?” she asked, remembering how he’d looked talking about his real father in the interview.
“Yes, and it gives me peace and excitement too.” He kissed her then, letting it linger until they were both breathing hard. “He wants to meet me, Caitlyn. I just heard.”
She hugged him. “Oh, Beau, I’m so glad.”
“Will you come with me, honey?” he asked.
An old vow came to her mind. “Where you go, I go.”
His blue-gray eyes brightened and then he kissed her again. “Yes.”
She wrapped her arms around him. “The perfume is ready,” she said, her enthusiasm growing.
“So I heard from your sister. Is that what I’m smelling on you?” He kissed the side of her neck softly, inhaling gently, and continued a trail of kisses down to her collarbone. “I love it. Bold. Spicy. Then a l
ittle earthy. I’ll dissect it later, after I’ve finished kissing you—something I can’t imagine I’ll ever be ready to do. But it’s perfect. Like you. Nice name, by the way.”
“I thought it apt,” she said, her heart finding its way back to a steady beat now, not the wild hammering of before. “You’ll be able to get a better sense of it from this.” Pulling out the handkerchief she’d crazily tucked in her cleavage before leaving the house for breakfast, she held it out, the scents of grapefruit and cinnamon making her smile. Those were her scents, and she’d be forever proud of them.
“That’s my handkerchief,” he said, sitting back on his haunches.
She smiled. “No, it’s mine. I couldn’t leave it at the farmhouse, and I wasn’t ready to give up that token from you yet. It was a reminder of a time I wanted to be grateful for, even if we weren’t together anymore. I added perfume to remind myself I was complete nonetheless. Now it seems right I placed it against my heart. Beau, I love you.”
“I love you too.” He took her hand and raised it to his lips. “Well, damn… That makes me feel cherished and then some.”
“Good,” she said, fitting herself on his lap. “That’s how we’re both going to feel. For the rest of our lives.”
“You bet, Sunshine.” He kissed her again, lingering over her lips. “My initials are wrong, though.”
“Details,” she said, tilting her head to the side to give him better access.
“Aren’t you the one who said the devil is in the details?” he asked.
“That’s the old me,” she said with a laugh. “Now I know all we need is love.”
Woven in with a whole lot of cherishing, she thought, as his arms came around her.
Epilogue
Clara surveyed the party in full swing at her brother’s Napa estate.