His Southern Sweetheart

by Carolyn Hector

  Tuesday morning, Amelia woke up on one section of the L-shaped couch in the TV room, lying against Nate’s broad chest while he stretched out on the other half. His soft snoring soothed her. A heavy arm draped protectively around her and his fingers spanned against her hips. Black stubble was sprinkled across his chiseled cheeks.

  Between the opening of the kitchen and the stairs, the grandfather clock ticked away. If she were working, she would have been up before the crack of dawn, prepping her camera crew about what she wanted filmed. Sleeping in was not a luxury she could afford. She wondered what Natalia was up to or if she was getting along with William. Rory hadn’t called to give her an update and the restriction on contact worked both ways. No one was to call her. She hadn’t even heard her phone ring once.

  Thinking of her phone, Amelia reached for hers off the square glass coffee table. She pressed the buttons for the screen saver to come to life. The half beat of the light flipped on, then turned off. She caught a quick glimpse of the problem. She needed to charge her phone; if only she remembered where she placed her bag with her charger.

  Amelia peeled herself away from Nate’s grip with a bit of ease. As she rolled over onto the white carpet, she went on her hands and knees, careful not to wake him. Thankfully the black leggings and the off-shoulder red Alabama shirt in which she’d fallen asleep absorbed the irritating material of Grandmamma’s carpet. Nate shifted with a snort and his right hand sought the comfort of her body. Amelia reached up and grabbed one of the fluffy throw pillows braced against the back of the couch and slipped it under his hand. A pout tugged at the corners of her lips when the plump material seemed to satisfy Nate. His steady snore continued.

  Jealous of a pillow? Disgusted with herself, Amelia headed off down the hall beyond the steps, toward the area now designated for the new study. They’d set up the room with a desktop computer; on the beige wall, Nate had hung one of the flat-screen televisions they’d found elsewhere in the house. A small leather couch folded out in one corner. Maybe this Christmas everyone would gather here for the holidays. Amelia stopped in her tracks. Since when did she think about coming here—period?

  Just because Emily was courteous to her did not mean she was welcome back into the fold of Southwood society. Not like she wanted to be welcomed back. Amelia opened some of the drawers in hopes of finding a charger. She then headed into her grandmamma’s new room looking for a charger. She didn’t want to run up the stairs unless she had to. Since her episode in the car with Nate, Amelia doubted her legs would take the unnecessary stretching of the steps.

  Hopefully Grandmamma wouldn’t yell at her for searching her drawers. Nate had suggested they move the drawers down individually but clearly he did not understand how picky Grandmamma was. So completing the backbreaking task worked out better than being killed by Grandmamma for allowing a man to see her personals. Before she even delved into the big dresser drawers, Amelia sat on the edge of Grandmamma’s queen-size bed. When she and her parents had come to live here, Amelia remembered sitting there getting life lessons. Of course, now Amelia realized Grandmamma’s life lessons were more warnings about how to treat others and how she expected to be treated. Nothing stuck.

  Sighing, Amelia reached for the drawer of the nightstand. Expectedly, she found a Bible. This was the same Bible her grandmother carried to church every Sunday. The cover was worn, the pages frail and filled with yellow highlighter marks. A faint trace of Chanel No. 5 rose from it. Amelia smiled and reached around in the drawer for anything feeling remotely like a cord. Some form of plastic scratched her fingertips. Amelia pulled her hand back to investigate the culprit. What she found caused her to jump off the bed. Condoms! She glanced down briefly and remembered this dresser used to be in her bedroom upstairs. Were these her condoms from years ago?

  “Kill me,” Amelia groaned, shoving them to the back of the drawer.

  “Everything okay?”

  Amelia spun around and died a few more deaths at the sight of Nate’s bare chest again, leaning against the doorjamb. How did one really say what she found? That she was having sex in high school in her grandmother’s house? If her father didn’t exist, Amelia would have been positive her grandmamma had never had sex in here. Now either she didn’t know what the condoms were for or she left them in the drawer to one day fall down the steps, knowing Amelia would be the one to come here and move things around. Sure, the latter seemed more outrageous, but Amelia worked in reality TV; she knew crazy.

  “Oh, nothing,” Amelia said sweetly, plastering a smile across her face. Her eyes traveled to the V stemming from the muscles of his stomach.

  “Were you looking for something?”

  In attempt to nod her head and shake it at the same time, Amelia ended up rotating her head in a circular motion. “Um, yes, but never mind. Good morning, did I wake you?”

  “Yes, when you left my side.” Nate crossed his arms. The tribal tattoo seemed to ripple across his arm and chest. “Did my snoring wake you?”

  “No, I’m used to waking up this early.”

  Nate’s eyes widened. “This is early for you?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s almost eleven,” he smirked.

  Amelia widened her eyes the same way he had. “You’re kidding me.”

  He reached into the front of his jeans for his cell phone and swiped the screen. Besides the time, the first thing she noticed was the photograph of two adorable girls in a selfie pose with Nate. “Your nieces?”

  “Kimber and Philly,” Nate said proudly. “They’re in school now, or should be, provided my brother got up in time.” She must have squinted her eyes because Nate nodded his head and took her by the hand. “Trust me, it’s happened in the past. Let’s get some coffee in us and then we’ll head over to Grits and Glam Gowns.”

  Amelia sat at the kitchen table and watched Nate make his way around the room. She toyed with the vase holding the long-stemmed daisies he’d brought her yesterday. Will she ever be able to look at daisies again without thinking of him? Inhaling deeply, Amelia focused on Nate’s backside. He was comfortable in here. He might as well be; he’d nearly set it on fire and then cleaned every spot like a professional. There was no trace of smoke at all. Grandmamma would never know what happened, let alone that someone else tried cooking in her kitchen. God, how the old woman complained whenever Amelia’s mother tried to help out and prepare a meal, Amelia thought bitterly. When the coffee finished percolating, Nate poured them each a mug and joined her at the table.

  “So when you’re not sleeping in until eleven,” Nate asked, “what time do you normally get up?”

  “It depends.” Amelia shrugged her shoulders. “If I’m working as a field producer, the perfume ad for the Ruizes kept me pretty busy since we were filming out on location. The ads for the perfume were going to be shown on an upcoming episode. I’d have to film every moment of their lives, including getting into their rooms before they woke up.”

  “Sounds boring.”

  “To most,” said Amelia, “it might. But I campaigned to be on their show. Their storyline is incredible and not one typical in the realm of reality shows.”

  “Because they’re not simply beautiful people, but also business folks, as well?” he asked and immediately explained. “Turns out the sixteen-year-old watches your show and she loves them.”

  “Well, you have to love the Ruizes,” said Amelia.

  Nate propped his elbows on the table. “No, I don’t. I know them, remember?”

  “Oh, yes,” Amelia said, grinning sheepishly. “You were going to tell me why your brother and Natalia were meeting that night.”

  “Nice try.” He shook his head.

  Amelia rolled her eyes. “Damn.”

  “Maybe she’ll be in town for the Crystal Coquí Ball,” he said, smiling over the rim of his coffee. “By the way, my mother is looking forwa
rd to meeting you. She already worships the ground you walk on.”

  Heart speeding up, Amelia shook her head back and forth. “What?”

  “My ma believes everyone needs to be introduced to the Puerto Rican life, and you’re a pioneer in her eyes, thanks to your show, Azúcar. So, Labor Day weekend you’re coming with me.”

  The way he stated she’d come with him somehow excited Amelia. A flash of desire quivered in the pit of her belly. The last thing she wanted was to allow him to think his machismo turned her on, so she rolled her eyes and took another sip of her coffee. She was surprised how naturally the rest of their conversation grew. She learned more about his family and the girls. Kimber was a handful and Philly had him wrapped around his finger. Nate didn’t elaborate on why he had not attended college after his high school graduation and she for once didn’t press the issue. Amelia wondered if she would have wanted to go off to another school right after enduring a campus shooting. The story editor in her wanted to create a reunion of everyone affected by the school shooting. Had any of the survivors sought the arms of a fellow survivor, and had the relationship lasted? Did anyone stay in town after the shooting? Judging from the twitch in Nate’s jaw whenever she alluded to the event, she figured it best to leave her ideas alone.

  After they shared a few stories and two cups of coffee, Amelia headed upstairs to shower, offering Nate the bathroom downstairs. Ready to spend more time with Nate, Amelia dressed in a pair of ivory lace shorts and a matching short-sleeve top, and since she was heading to a glam shop, she put on some heels. Nate greeted her with a whistle and met her at the bottom of the steps with a kiss. He’d changed out of his jeans into a pair of khaki cargo shorts and a button-down preppy green Oxford opened at the throat. For a man, his feet, encased in a pair of tan canvas flip-flops, looked pretty damn good.

  In the span of forty-eight hours since Nate had arrived on the property after following her, they’d gone from awkward silence to a passionate episode in his car to now holding hands as he drove down the back streets toward town. Dread no longer flashed in the pit of her stomach as the folks walking down the street waved. She didn’t think about what anyone had to say to her about her past. The only thing that concerned her was what Nate’s beloved family would think of her.

  Any indication they might hold some form of resentment against her was washed away the moment the bells over the door of Lexi’s shop chimed and everyone cooed all over her. For starters, Lexi was a dream. Amelia slightly remembered seeing photos of her in the gossip headlines about a scandalous beauty queen. Whatever Lexi’s past, Amelia had no room to judge, especially when the tall blonde towered over her and wrapped her arms around her shoulders.

  “I am so happy to finally meet you,” Lexi Pendergrass said dramatically. “It’s about time someone else starts a ruckus around here besides me.”

  At the beauty queen’s emphasis on finally, Amelia glanced nervously over Lexi’s shoulder toward Nate. As Lexi pulled back and straightened, she shook her head. “Didn’t Nate tell you about all the trouble I’ve stirred up around here?”

  “I don’t get into the gossip.” Nate rolled his eyes toward Amelia.

  “I’ve had my own brush with Southwood scandals,” Amelia said.

  A tall, beefy man literally waltzed over to them. “Southwood Scandals,” he said. “I like it. Andrew Mason, at your service.”

  “Nice to meet you, Andrew.” Amelia took the man’s meaty hand. “I’m Amelia Marlow.”

  “Oh, girl, I know all about you,” Andrew gushed. “I’ve followed your career since your show, The Real Divas of College Park.”

  A warmth of embarrassment rose from Amelia’s chest to her cheeks. “Not one of my finest.”

  “What’s this?” Nate leaned back to get a better look at her.

  “One of the first shows I produced.”

  “With the cattiest women in the world,” Andrew interjected. “But the best times were when you had to step on camera and yank those women apart. Talk about a weave war.”

  Lexi cocked her head to the side and grinned. “You’re embarrassing her, Andrew. Go away.” She took Amelia by the arm and led her through the rows and racks of dresses—not ones Amelia thought were appropriate for a wedding. “Don’t fear. I’m in the middle of remodeling.”

  A good storefront makeover was what Lexi apparently needed. For starters, she had too many dresses in one area, separated by colors. Amelia practically walked through a rainbow before Lexi brought her to the back of the store to a set of steps.

  “I’ve got some dresses up here.”

  Amelia followed Lexi up a set of wrought-iron stairs winding their way up to an open-floored loft. All types and sizes of mannequins filled the room with different styles of dresses. Short dresses made for children, long, prom-style dresses and wedding gowns hung in clear plastic wrap from satin hangers.

  “Did you sew all of these?” Amelia asked in awe.

  “I did.” Lexi nodded and surprised Amelia by blushing. “I wish my niece didn’t leave for school early. We call her the Dress Whisperer. Oh, I have a great idea. Stand over there.” Lexi spoke a mile a minute and pointed toward the red couch shaped like a pair of lips.

  Reluctantly Amelia stood by the couch. A gold-laminated oval mirror hung over the brick wall behind the couch. Lexi stood in front of her and used her phone to take a photo of Amelia. The flash blinded her momentarily.

  “Sorry, but I’m going to send this to Jolene.”

  “Your niece?”

  Nodding, Lexi waved her hand to the couch and gracefully folded herself into a director’s chair. “Tell me about yourself, Amelia. Nate mentioned over the phone about you being from here but not wanting to come back.”

  “Well,” Amelia started, not wanting to offend. Lexi hadn’t grown up in Southwood like she did. Lexi’s parents were well-off and sent her away to boarding school out of state; she came home to Southwood with her friends for the summer. She’d come back and made something of herself. “I’m not fond of being back here.”

  “Bad memories?”

  “Let’s say I don’t expect to be inducted in the town’s hall of fame any time soon.”

  “Girl, you either?” Lexi slapped her long leg. “And my folks are on the committee.”

  Amelia decided she liked Lexi and her spunk. “So are you in the pageant business or the wedding business?” She waved her hand toward the mannequin with the long white train.

  “Both. Right now the pageant world is hot but it’s about to die down since school’s started. I’ve always loved to sew, and original pageant dresses are the way to go for a one-of-a-kind.”

  “O-O-A-K.” Amelia grinned.

  “You know your pageant terminology.”

  Amelia shook her head and confessed, “I know my reality show competition. Why haven’t you been on one of the shows?”

  “No way. Those shows take away the good and put an evil spin on something innocent.” Lexi’s hand covered her mouth. “I’m so sorry,” she mumbled.

  “No offense taken,” Amelia said with a laugh. “A lot of shows do prey on people. I can’t say I’ve never gotten my hands dirty when I started but I’d like to think I’ve grown.”

  “With Natalia Ruiz’s show?”

  Aware now of the history between Natalia and Nate’s brother, Amelia pressed her lips together. Of course Lexi saw the story on the Real-A-Tea blog—as well as Amelia’s oversight. The irresponsible anonymous blogger was a bane in everyone’s existence. The person behind the computer screen had a mole at every reality show.

  Before growing angry again, Amelia swallowed her feelings. “Yes.”

  “She’s a beautiful woman.”

  “She is,” Amelia agreed. Amelia studied the beauty queen’s face for a moment and tried to gauge a read. Nate was still tight-lipped about the reason Natali
a had met with Stephen. Did Lexi know? “You’re not worried about her and Stephen?”

  “Nah.” Lexi waved off the notion without a wrinkle in her face. “What I am worried about is the Keaton wedding.”

  Ah, a girl concerned with business first. Amelia liked her even more. “Are you afraid something is going to happen?”

  “Well, I’ve had a lot of rave reviews and new customers brought in because of the pageant business, but the last wedding dress I believe jinxed me.”

  The ivory dress on the mannequin with its sweetheart neckline and full skirt was beautiful. Every intricate stitch was perfect. “I swear I won’t attend the wedding.” She held two fingers together in the air.

  “Not you,” said Lexi, reaching out and playfully waving off the notion with a flick of her wrist. “You better come. We’re about to pick out the best dress, if Jolene will ever text back. I’m talking about the last dress I made. The bride disappeared.”

  Amelia pressed her lips together and watched through half-closed eyes as Lexi fretted. “What do you mean disappeared?”

  “I mean, slipped out the back door and no one has heard from her.”

  “Where was this wedding?” Amelia sat up straight. “Was this in Orlando?”

  “Yes, how did you know?”

  “When I’m not working, I live there in an apartment. Well, used to.” Amelia shook her head to get to the point. “Are you talking about the Ramos-Montenegro wedding?”

  “You know Grace?” Lexi’s mouth gaped open.

  “I know the groom, well, the-would-have-been-groom, Ricardo.” Amelia sank into the cushions of the red couch and briefly explained her job at MET and how they were going to document the life of the young congressman, and the footage filmed leading up to the wedding and the ceremony itself would be aired on their network. Amelia had offered to edit the footage, but with the bride disappearing, her project had ended. She’d pitched an idea to Rory about trying to find the bride, a local chef, but Rory thought it was too soon.