“Sick? Hydrangea sick on one can of Bud?”
“We were fourteen.” Emma Kate narrowed her eyes at Shelby, but there was a laugh in them. “And Shelby was sicker.”
“I was. I chugged it down as fast as I could because the taste was so hard and sour to me, then I sicked it all back up again. I never did acquire a genuine taste for beer.”
“She doesn’t like beer?” Griff set the pilsners in front of his friends, a glass of water with a slice of lime in front of Shelby, then slid in beside her with his own drink. “That may affect my plans for playing up to you so I can enlist your help in running off with Viola.”
“He’s not altogether kidding.” Matt lifted his glass. “Well, to friends, even when they don’t have the good sense to drink beer.”
• • •
PRIVET SAT OUT in his car making notes. He’d parked across the street from where Shelby had left her minivan. It seemed to him the young widow was enjoying herself, having a glass of wine with an old friend. She wasn’t quite as oblivious as he’d thought, as she’d nearly spotted him.
Now it looked like she was having a double date in the local bar and grill.
And still she’d made no suspicious moves, was hardly tossing money around.
Maybe she’d had nothing to do with it, after all. Maybe she didn’t know anything.
Or maybe she was smart enough to sit tight in Nowhere, Tennessee, until she thought the coast was clear. Considering what was at stake, he could give it a few more days.
For his cut of nearly thirty million, he could spare the time.
9
She had fun, grown-up fun, normal-night-out-with-people fun. She saw glimmers of her old friendship with Emma Kate break through, and it gave her hope that it would beam bright again.
Seeing a man, and he seemed like a good man, besotted—that was the word that came to her mind—over her friend made her glow a little.
She liked the way they looked together, easy and comfortable but with some sparks over the familiarity. She’d seen her friend in love before, but with the teenage angst and drama and wonder that flamed like a comet over a night sky, and was as quickly lost from view. What she saw here struck her as real and grounded, a good, sturdy sapling sinking roots.
If the lost years came home to her not only in the way Emma Kate fit with Matt, but the connection between her and Griff, the obvious brotherhood between him and Matt, she could be grateful they opened that very tight unit to include her for an evening.
Maybe she had to work some to stay relaxed sitting next to Griff—pretty much hip to hip in the little booth. It had been so long since she’d been in close proximity with a man, which explained the occasional belly flutters. But he made conversation easy—they all did. And God it felt good not to talk about herself and her problems for an hour.
She nursed her water to make it all last.
“I don’t think things have changed so much in the Ridge that it could’ve been easy to start up a new business, especially since you’re not . . . local.”
Matt grinned at Shelby across the table. “You mean for us Yankees.”
“That would be a factor. But you do have the cutest accent,” she said, and made him laugh.
“It helps we’re good, and I mean damn good. Then there’s the Emma Kate factor.” He gave her shaggy hair a tug. “Some people were curious enough about the Yankee their own Emma Kate hooked up with to hire us for some odd jobs.”
“Painting,” Griff commented. “I thought we’d never stop painting. Then Emma Kate’s father gave us a boost when a tree fell on the Hallister house. They called him in for the roof, and he nudged them to us for the rest. Their bad luck was our good.”
“That Hallister boy’s family?” Shelby wondered. “The one my cousin Lark’s glued to?”
“That’s the one,” Emma Kate confirmed. “And Granny gave them another lift.”
“Did she?”
“She hired Dewey Trake and his crew out of Maryville to do the Relaxation Room at the day spa, and finish off the little patio. Some this and that,” Emma Kate continued.
“What about Mr. Curtis? He always did her work.”
“He retired about two years back, and even Granny couldn’t coax him out to take this one on. So she hired Trake, but that didn’t last two weeks.”
“Shoddy work.” Griff tipped back his beer.
“Overpriced,” Matt added.
“Granny thought so, and fired him.”
“I happened to be in there at the time.” Griff picked up the story, that easy rhythm. “Man, she lit into him. He’d had about four days on the job and was already running behind, making noises about overruns and delays. A lot of bullshit, basically. She handed him his ass, and told him not to let the door hit it on the way out.”
“Sounds like Granny.”
“That’s when I fell for her.” Griff let out a sigh, ending it on what Shelby would term a dreamy smile. “Something about a woman who can hand somebody their ass just does it for me. Anyway, not to let an opportunity slide—”
“Dewey Trake’s bad luck being your good.”
“Exactly. I asked her if she’d let me take a look.”
“Griff’s our community liaison,” Matt said.
“And Matt handles the accounting. It works. I took a look, asked to see the plans, told her I could have an estimate for her by the next morning, but ballparked it for her on the spot.”
“You were eleven hundred off,” Matt reminded him.
“Ballpark, on the spot. She measured me up—you’ve probably been measured up by Miz Vi.”
“Countless times,” Shelby agreed.
“Fell a little deeper, but restrained myself from asking her to run away with me. Timing’s everything. She said something like: ‘Boy, I want this done before Christmas and I want it done right. You get me that estimate, written down proper, first thing in the morning, and if I like it, be prepared to start work then and there.’”
“I take it she liked it.”
“She did, and the rest is history,” Griff claimed. “Once you get the thumbs-up around here from Viola Donahue, you’re pretty well set.”
“It didn’t hurt that Griff went out and snapped up that old house, and its four overgrown, trash-strewn acres,” Matt put in. “It was just crying, ‘Buy me, Griff, come on! I’ve got tremendous potential.’”
“It really does,” Shelby agreed, and earned a quick, flashing grin from Griff that had those butterflies swarming again.
“You can’t miss it if you know where to look. A lot of people thought—probably still think—I was crazy.”
“That probably gave you another nice, hefty lift. We do prize our crazy in the South.”
“Why, you know that young Lott boy from up to Baltimore?” Emma Kate began.
“He may be addled,” Shelby finished, “but he’s handy.”
She saw Forrest wander in. Checking up on me, she thought. Some things didn’t change.
“The law’s coming,” Griff commented as Forrest walked over to the booth. “Hey, Pomeroy. Is this a raid?”
“Off-duty. I’m here for the beer and wild women.”
“This one’s taken.” Matt squeezed a little closer to Emma Kate. “But you can slide in and get the beer.”
“Beer first.” He nodded toward Shelby’s glass. “Is that water?”
“Yes, Daddy. Did you come from home? Is Callie doing all right?”
“Yes, Mama. She had a bubble bath of epic proportions, talked her granddaddy into two stories, and was sleeping with Fifi when I left. You want another round of water?”
“I should probably get back.”
“Relax. Another round?” he asked the rest of the table.
“I’d take a Diet Coke this time, Forrest,” Emma Kate told him. “I’ve had my quota.”
“You should see it every other Saturday night.” Since he had another coming, Matt drained his beer. “They have live entertainment. Griff and I are talking to Tansy—and she’s talking to Derrick—about adding on—bigger stage, dance floor, second bar.”
“They could use it for private parties.” Now Griff scanned the room. “You keep it all in line with the original architecture, make sure you’ve got good acoustics, good traffic flow. They’d have something.”
“Drinks are coming.” Forrest slid in on the edge of the bench. “How’s that kitchen going for Miz Bitsy?”
“A couple more days,” Matt said, “we’re out of there.”
“You know, my mama’s talking about doing a big master bath off the bedroom. With a steam shower.” He narrowed his eyes at Griff. “You did know.”
“Maybe we’ve had a few words about it.”
“It’s going to eat up Shelby’s old room, and as she has Clay’s now and Callie’s got mine, that’s all the bedrooms there are.”
“Are you planning on moving back in with your parents?”
“No, but you never know.” He shot Shelby a glance. “Do you? So if she gets her way—and she will—and my circumstances change, I’ll be moving into your place.”
“I’ve got the room. You still on for Sunday?”
“You still buying the beer?”
“I am.”
“Then I’ll be there.”
“Griff’s taking out another wall or two at the old Tripplehorn place,” Emma Kate told Shelby.
“Do you think when I’ve lived there twenty years it’ll be the old Lott place?”
“No,” Forrest said flatly. “Hey, Lorna, how’re you doing tonight?”
The waitress served the drinks. “I’m doing just fine, but I’d be doing better if I was sitting down here having a drink with all these handsome men.”
She set Shelby’s water in front of her, bussed the empties. “You watch out for this one, honey.” She gave Griff a poke on the shoulder. “A man this charming can talk a woman into most anything.”
“I’m safe enough. He’s pining for my grandmother.”
Lorna set the tray of empties on her hip. “You Vi’s grandbaby? Of course you are, you look just like her, to the life. Well, she’s sure on top of the world having you home. You and your little girl. I was in the salon today, and she showed me a picture she took with her phone of your baby after Vi did her hair up. She couldn’t be prettier.”
“Thank you.”
“Just give a holler if you need something else. I heard you, Prentiss!” she called over her shoulder when another table hailed her. “Keep an eye on him anyway,” she said to Shelby.
“I don’t remember her. Should I remember her?”
“You remember Miss Clyde?”
“I had her for English literature, twelfth grade.”
“So did we all. Lorna’s her sister. She moved here from Nashville about three years ago. Her husband dropped stone dead from a heart attack at fifty.”
“That’s sad.”
“They didn’t have any kids, so she packed up, came here to live with her sister.” Forrest took a sip of his beer. “Derrick says Tansy’s his right hand around this place and Lorna’s his left. Did you see Tansy?”
“I did. It took me more than a minute to recognize her. Matt said they’re thinking about adding on here, putting in a dance floor and a stage and a second bar.”
“Now you’ve done it,” Emma Kate said as the talk turned to demolition and materials. “It’ll be nothing but construction talk now.”
She liked the construction talk, and the extra half hour she took to sit with her brother.
“This was nice, but I’ve got to get on.”
“I’ll walk you out to your car,” Griff began as he slid over to let her out.
“Don’t be silly. I think my brother keeps the streets of the Ridge safe enough. You can take my seat,” she told Forrest, “spread out a little.”
“I’ll do just that. Why don’t you text me when you get home?”
She started to laugh, saw he was serious. “How about I text you if I have any trouble getting home, all one and a half miles of it? ’Night, everybody. Thanks for the drink, Griff.”
“It was water.”
“I’ll see if I can do more damage next time.”
She walked out happy. Happy enough to roll the windows down despite the chill, turn the radio up and sing along. She didn’t notice the car pulling out after her and following her that mile and a half.
Inside the bar, Forrest switched seats. “Walk her to her car?”
Griff studied his beer. “Your sister’s hot.”
“Don’t make me punch you.”
“You can punch me, but she’ll still be hot.”
Forrest decided to ignore him, shifted his focus to Emma Kate. “It looks like you two made things up.”
“We got a start on it.”
“How much did you get out of her?”
“Enough to be damn sure that dead husband of hers was a son of a bitch. You figured he was, Forrest.”
“Yeah, I figured he was.” Forrest’s eyes chilled; his mouth thinned. “Couldn’t do a goddamn thing about it.”
“What kind of a son of a bitch?” Griff demanded.
“The kind that made her feel stupid and small and kept his money in a tight fist.” The angry heat she’d banked down flashed out now. “The kind who likely had affairs while she was home taking care of the baby—the baby I got the clear impression he didn’t pay much mind to. And there’s more to it, I know there’s more. She didn’t let it all out tonight.”
Emma Kate took a long breath. “I swear, if he hadn’t gotten himself killed, I’d be holding your coat while you kicked his ass, Forrest, or you’d be holding mine.”
“She should’ve done some ass-kicking herself.”
“I bet nobody’s ever made you feel stupid or small.” Griff shook his head. He thought of those sad eyes, and the bright, flirtatious little girl.
His anger went on simmer. It could boil up—long, slow and rolling. If and when it boiled over, it scalded to the bone.
“My sister was hooked up with a guy for a while. Passive-aggressive, manipulative fucker. He twisted her up pretty good, and he only had a few months to do it. No kid involved. People like that, they start off making you feel like you’re the most amazing thing on the planet, you’re perfect, they’re lucky to have you in their life. Then they start chipping away, a little at a time. Got on her to lose weight, and my sis is no pudge.”
“She’s not,” Forrest agreed. “I’ve met her. Your sister’s hot.”
“Well played. This jerk was all over Jolie. Why didn’t she do something with her hair? If she couldn’t afford a better salon since she’s stuck working in some dead-end job, he’d pay for it. His treat.”
“Kick and kiss,” Matt said. “I remember that guy. When Jolie finally broke it off, Griff baited him into taking a swing.”
“I needed to get a punch in, and that way I could say he threw the first.”
“It’s still assault.”
“Shut up, Deputy, it was worth it.”
“Shelby was always so . . . what’s the word?” Forrest muttered.
“Vibrant,” Emma Kate supplied. “She went after things. She wouldn’t walk over somebody to get it, but she’d go head-to-head with you. And if you tried walking over her or somebody else, especially somebody else?” She paused to glance at Griff. “You got your ass handed to you.”
“She’s still vibrant. You two don’t see it maybe because you’ve known her all your lives. But I see it.”
/> Emma Kate cocked her head at Griff. “Why, Griffin Lott. Shelby said her little girl was smitten with you. Are you smitten with the mama?”
“Her brother’s sitting right here, and he’s already threatened to punch me.”
“She’d be your type,” Matt put in.
“My type?”
“Because you don’t have a type, as long as she’s female.”
“Her brother’s sitting right here,” Griff repeated, and applied himself to his beer.
• • •
SHELBY KEPT THE PLAYDATE in the park and enjoyed it nearly as much as Callie. Best of all, she and Chelsea’s mother made an arrangement. Tracey would watch the girls for a few hours while Shelby ran some errands the next day, and two days later, Shelby would do the same for her.
Everybody won a little something.
And maybe, she thought as she once again examined her wardrobe, she’d net herself at least a part-time job.
She opted for a dress—simple lines in pale yellow for spring—and a good pair of nude pumps, with a short white jacket to set it off.
She pulled her hair back into a tail, fastened on earrings with little pearl drops. Costume, as she’d had them since college, but pretty and right for the outfit.
With her mother back at work, she and Callie had the house to themselves, and she didn’t have to explain she was gearing up for a job hunt. If she got lucky and landed one, she’d present it all as a fait accompli.
If she got a job and sold the house? She’d do handsprings up and down High Street in front of God and everybody.
“Mama’s pretty.”
“Callie’s prettier.” Shelby glanced over where Callie sat on the bed, methodically stripping the clothes off two Barbie dolls.
“Baby, why are your Barbie dolls naked?”
“They need to change clothes for Chelsea’s house. Chelsea has a kitty named Snow White. Can I have a kitty?”
Now Shelby looked down at the old dog who snored at the foot of the bed. “And how do you think Clancy would feel about that?”
“He could play with the kitty. My kitty’s name’s Fiona, like Shrek. Can I have a kitty, please, Mama? And a puppy. I want a puppy most.”
The Liar Page 14