“What if your mother asks?”
He shrugged again. “Then I’d tell her that I like you and plan to spend as much time together as possible.”
“Won’t she get after you for taking up with—”
“Don’t put yourself down again!”
“I’m not!”
He scrubbed his fingers across his forehead and through his hair, leaving choppy, short spikes in front. “Are you being ‘Scarlett’ when you think people are judging you?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that you took a different name and you dyed your hair. I imagine that you took on a new persona. Inside, though, I know you’re sweet and caring. You like people or you’d have a different profession.” He leaned toward her and took her hands. “Who are you really?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, why won’t you tell me your real name? Why do you try to keep me from getting any closer to you?”
She pulled her hands away. “There’s really no mystery. We both know I’m only here for a few weeks. Why do you need to know my name?”
“It’s not that I need to know,” he said, running his fingers along her arm, taking her hand in his even as she resisted. “It’s that you need to tell me.”
She shook her head, looking away from his kind, gray eyes. “I’m happy with who I am.”
“Oh, sweetheart, I am too. I’d just like…No, I shouldn’t say that. Let me just say that if you wanted more, I’d be more than willing.”
“I can’t want more right now. I already want so much.”
He sighed. “I know. L.A. and success.”
She looked at their joined hands. “It’s my dream.”
“I understand. Sometimes, there’s room for more than one dream in your life.”
“I don’t see how that could work.”
“I don’t know, either. But I have dreams, too.” He tipped up her chin. “Dreams of you.”
She jumped up from the couch, overwhelmed not by his touch, but by his words. “I need to go. I need to think.”
He rose from the couch and stood beside her. “I’ll walk you home.”
“No! I need to be alone.”
“I understand. I’ll walk you to the salon and leave you alone. I promise.” He reached down and rubbed her arms, smiling in a sad way, as if he knew how confused she was. “Although, I’d love for you to stay with me.”
She nodded, hugging her arms around herself. “I’ve got a phone call to make.”
James grabbed his jacket and slipped it on. “If you need me, you can call me, too.”
“I know.” And she did. James was super dependable. One of her top priorities, for as long as she could remember, was learning to depend on herself, not someone else. That was part of the “be true to herself” philosophy she’d adopted when she’d realized she was different than her brother and sister.
And a disappointment to her parents.
At the back door of the salon, James shielded her from the wind with his body. In the illumination from the security lights mounted high above, she looked into James’s eyes and felt a combination of excitement and dread, a fluttery feeling in her stomach and a tightness in her heart.
It would be way too easy to let herself fall for him. And then she’d be here in Texas, going nowhere in her career. Or in the life she had planned for herself.
James kissed her with tenderness and passion. She leaned into him, kissing him back, giddy with the promise of passion that would be unfulfilled, at least for now.
“If you change your mind, call me or come back to my apartment.”
She nodded, then unlocked the door and went inside. She could see him in her mind’s eyes, waiting on the back porch until she’d locked the deadbolt.
Her smile faded, though, when she remembered what she needed to do. She hadn’t called home in several days, and then just to let her parents know she’d had some “minor car trouble” that had delayed her trip.
Settling on the sofa, she scrolled through her cell phone address book until she found “Folks.” As the phone rang, she imagined what they might be doing. Her dad was probably watching TV while her mother wrapped Christmas presents.
“Hi, Mom. What’s up?”
They chatted for a minute or so about how her parents were getting ready for the holidays. They were putting up a smaller tree this year, for one thing, and giving gift certificates instead of presents, for another.
“Gosh, I’ve only been gone a couple of weeks, and already you’re downsizing.”
“Just a little,” her mother admitted. “It’s just not the same now that we’re empty nesters. Of course, that will change when your niece or nephew is born.”
“I guess I really will be an aunt.” Aunt Scarlett. She liked the sound of that.
“I hope you can come back when the baby is born.”
“I’m not sure.” She didn’t know if she’d have the money to fly home or the ability to take off days from work.
“Um, Mom, you know I really like what I’m doing. Styling hair. I’m good at it, too.”
“Yes, I know.” She could almost hear her mother sigh.
“I know you and Dad aren’t thrilled with my choice, so I was just wondering…if I wasn’t a stylist, what would you have wanted me to be?”
Her mother paused as if considering the question, then said, “I’m not sure. I mean, you don’t like math and you didn’t enjoy studying that much.”
“I didn’t enjoy studying old facts and dates and things that don’t apply to real life.” She’d been fine at cosmetology school at learning techniques, formulas and regulations.
“Well, yes. But when you get an education, you have to take some classes that don’t immediately apply to what you want to do.”
“I have an education,” Scarlett defended.
This time she heard her mother sigh. “I meant a college education.”
“I know what you mean. So, you never did answer my question. What would you and Dad have preferred that I become? I know you’re not happy that I’m a stylist.”
“We’re not unhappy. We just think you could be so much more.”
“Like what?”
“Well, perhaps, if you’d wanted to, you could have been an attorney or a teacher.”
“Believe me, Mom, I would have made a terrible attorney.” After seeing how conservative and…and stuffy James was, she couldn’t imagine leading that kind of life. And, heaven forbid, she couldn’t be in any kind of business or corporate setting.
“A teacher, then. You like children.”
“I suppose. I had a little girl in last week, as a matter of fact.” She told her mother about Hailey, ready to divert this conversation to what was actually going on in her life, not what someone else wanted from her.
Scarlet realized her mother hadn’t said anything for a few moments. Then she heard a sniff. Was her mother crying?
“Honey, that is so sweet. I never thought about all the ways your job might affect people. But no matter how important your career is to you, please think about coming back for the birth of our first grandchild.”
“I’ll do what I can. I’d better go now, Mom.”
After Scarlett disconnected and placed her phone back in the pocket of her hoodie, she slumped on the couch. Only the lamp on the countertop across the room kept her company. Loneliness pressed around her.
At the restaurant, she’d felt alone with Raven and Troy. Even after James came in and sat with her, she hadn’t felt as if they were a couple. As if she belonged. Talking to James had made her want to call her mother, but that, despite her mother’s praise, had only made her feel more isolated from the family.
Maybe there was something in the way she made decisions that made her different. She didn’t want to feel isolated, did she? She didn’t think so. She enjoyed the feeling of belonging in a salon. She made friends with her coworkers. She enjoyed meeting new people.
So, what made her feel so alone? Had
she really pushed James away with flippant remarks? Maybe. But part of her personality was being cheerful. Her friends had called her spunky. That was true; she had spunk or she wouldn’t be moving across the country alone.
She sat for a while longer, the silence and darkness pressing closer and closer until she jumped up from the couch. Perhaps this was a good time to be honest with James, at least about her feelings at the moment.
Within a few minutes she climbed the metal stairs and stood at the back door of James’s apartment. When he answered her knock, she stepped into his arms.
“I want to spend the night with you,” she said against his warm chest. “I want to be with you.” For now.
She felt him smile against her hair as he held her close. Then he pulled her inside and closed the door.
“GOOD MORNING.”
Scarlett’s head shot up. “What time is it?”
“Not even six o’clock yet,” he replied. “It’s still dark outside.”
She relaxed back to the pillow. “Oh, good.”
“I think you should move in with me until it’s time for you to leave. This is a much better mattress than that sofa bed back at the salon.”
“True,” she murmured, closing her eyes. “But what will the neighbors say?”
“The men will be jealous. The women will—”
“Be jealous, too,” she said.
He smiled. “I’m not so sure about that. I’m not exactly a sex symbol around town.”
“That’s only because they haven’t slept with you.” Scarlett moved closer as he stroked her cheek. She frowned. “Or, at least I assume most of them haven’t graced your bed or the back seat of your car.”
“None that are currently living here,” he said. “I can’t say that I was a perfect saint in high school, but the girls in question graduated and moved away.”
“How about Jennifer Wright?”
She’d been Jennifer Hopkins when they dated. “Girlfriend, not lover.”
“Oh. Good. Her daughter, Hailey, is very sweet, and it just blows the whole family image to think about you and Jennifer together.”
“So, anyway,” he said, getting back to his point and away from the issue of old girlfriends, “my bed is much more comfortable. Stay with me.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Oh, and one more thing. My parents are going to Wichita Falls to visit friends and do some Christmas shopping. I’ll be at the house for the weekend. Come stay with me there.”
“I need to work on Saturday.”
“Then come after you get finished for the day. I’ll cook you a meal, and I promise you won’t have to sleep on the lumpy couch.”
“No?”
“No. You’ll be snug as can be.”
“With you.”
“Upstairs, under the eaves.” He kissed her cheek. “Old farmhouse. Very quaint.” He pulled the comforter down and kissed her shoulder. “Lots of quilts.” His hand crept lower and cupped her breast. “If that’s not enough, there’s always heated massage oil.”
Scarlett giggled and pulled the covers up. “Okay! I’ll come out to the ranch with you.”
“I’ll be in Graham most of the day today, getting ready for Monday.”
“Okay, Judge James. Maybe you could get a TV show.”
“Doubtful, since I’m only a judge for a week.”
“Yes, but you might be one when you grow up.”
He playfully swatted her bottom. “Don’t be snarky. You’re younger than me.”
“Yes, but I know what I want to be.”
“Yeah, I know.” And she was going after it in California, but he didn’t voice that depressing thought. She was here now, and he planned to take advantage of their relationship for as long as possible.
“Will you have dinner with me tonight?”
“Sure. As I said before, you’re a great diversion, and my options are limited.”
He ignored her flippant remarks. He knew he was more than a diversion, even if she didn’t want to admit it. “I wish I could take you out to a really nice dinner at a fancy restaurant, but we’ll have to settle for Dewey’s.”
“That’s fine. I don’t have the wardrobe with me for fancy restaurants.”
Sometime later, as he cleaned up the kitchen after breakfast, she came out of the bathroom looking young and fresh without any makeup. Even her hair appeared softer, with curls instead of spikes.
“We’ll have a good time this weekend. I’m looking forward to you seeing the ranch.”
“Me, too. I like animals. Did I tell you that?”
“No, but I’m not surprised.”
Later, as he drove to Graham, he thought about the coming weekend. He didn’t really have any massage oil, but he’d get some. Yes, he rather liked the idea. He’d have to make sure he and Scarlett didn’t slide out of his double bed, though. And he’d have to remember to wash his own sheets, rather than leaving them for his mother to find.
He felt like a kid again. Or at least a horny teenager.
This weekend, instead of simply feeding the few cattle, the two old horses, the three dogs, the small flock of chickens, the miscellaneous ducks and birds, he’d have a new activity: making love in his old bedroom. Something he’d always wanted to do.
When he was married, Babs had never wanted to stay at the house with his parents. He’d been irritated at the time, but now he was glad. He wouldn’t have any old memories to erase before making new ones with Scarlett.
Not that she could ever be confused with anyone else.
Chapter Eleven
James went to Graham for a final meeting with Judge Bell and staff at the county offices before assuming his position on Monday. There weren’t many cases scheduled for the week, but two attorneys were fighting over evidence in a conspiracy to commit fraud case, and they could file motions that had to be heard. The fraud involved a significant inheritance, a bogus relative and a phony corporation.
“Let’s get lunch,” Harve Bennett, the district attorney, suggested as the morning meeting wound down. “How about the tearoom across the street? We can walk there and get back here fairly quickly, so we can be finished before the sun sets.”
That was fine with James, since all he thought about outside the judicial system was meeting Scarlett for dinner and taking her back to his place.
As the group of men walked past the Confederate memorial, a determined-looking older man marched up to them. “I want to talk to you,” he said gruffly.
“Since when do we have to bring in outsiders?” he asked Judge Bell. “Especially ones still wet behind the ears?”
“Milton Bastine, I don’t think you’ve met James Brody in person,” Bell said.
James extended his hand, but the older man ignored him. “I don’t need to meet him to know what’s going on.”
“Nothing is ‘going on,’” the judge said.
“You’re still upset that I ran against you last year,” Bastine declared. “That’s why you brought in an out-of-towner.”
“This is the Young County court, not the Graham court. I think you’d be wise to remember that, Milt.”
“This is the county seat. Besides, I have forty years more experience than this pup,” Bastine said, pointing at James with his thumb.
“Watch it,” Judge Bell warned. “You’re talking about a soon-to-be sitting judge.”
“Oh, you don’t scare me. Either one of you. You’ll regret not choosing experience over his pretty-boy looks.”
“Mr. Bastine, if you have an issue with my qualifications,” James said, “perhaps we should talk about it privately. I don’t think the public sidewalk is the right place for what appears to be a jealous confrontation.”
The judge smiled, but Bastine became even more furious. “You’ll regret mocking me.”
“I don’t think so,” James replied coolly. “Hopefully, I won’t see you before me in court.”
Bastine turned an alarming shade of purple, spun on his heel and stalked back
to his car.
“That man has some anger issues,” James said.
“You’re right. He’s jealous,” the judge agreed.
“He’s a bunch of hot air,” another lawyer added.
“Don’t let him worry you,” the district attorney advised. “He barely has any clients, and none of them will be before the bench next week. I’ll see to that.”
They watched Bastine peel out of the parking area, way too fast for safety, especially considering his age and probable lack of reflexes. But that was a job for the police, not the legal teams, so they continued on to their lunch with no more incidents.
By the time James finished his meetings for the day and stopped by the drugstore, he was more than ready to see Scarlett.
THEY ATE DINNER Friday night at Dewey’s, then went back to James’s apartment to sleep in his comfortable bed. Not that they went to sleep right away, Scarlett remembered the next morning. He’d rubbed her tired feet, massaging away her stress. Then he’d worked his way up her legs, creating an entirely different kind of tension.
As she prepared for work on Saturday morning, she knew she was looking forward to the weekend—and to spending that time with James—much more than she should. To get herself grounded, she used her cell phone to call Diego, just to check in. She didn’t think anything could have happened to change her status as a new intern arriving in January, but she should make certain.
Sure enough, he was looking forward to her arrival. He commiserated about the car trouble, but didn’t offer to help. Not that she’d expected him to. She wasn’t his employee yet, and car trouble went beyond employer-employee relationships, anyway.
Hopefully, she’d make friends with her fellow stylists at the salon. She’d be the “new girl,” but she was intent on fitting in quickly.
After all, hadn’t she slipped right into the situation here at Clarissa’s House of Style? If she could fit in here, she could fit in anywhere!
As she dropped her cell phone into her pocket and adjusted her Santa hat so it flopped just right, Clarissa and Venetia came in, bringing with them cool air and a hint of evergreen.
“Good morning!” Clarissa bustled forward, taking off her coat and gloves. “I swear, it’s a real treat to come in to fresh brewed coffee, the lights and heat already on,” she said, giving Scarlett a big smile.
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