Sweet Georgia Peach

by Amelia C. Adams

  “Mother says that with my metabolism, I can’t be too careful.” Lacey grabbed a couple of grapes, then stepped away from the table. “I only have one more year to compete, and I intend to make the very most of it.”

  “This is my last year, and I’m doing the same,” London replied. Next to Lacey’s plate, hers looked like she was trying to feed the entire cast of Cats. She refused to feel guilty about that, though. She’d be surprised if Lacey didn’t pass out from low blood sugar before the day was over.

  “Well, I wish you luck. Who knows—maybe one of these young upstarts will take it away from all of us.” Lacey nodded toward a small cluster of girls London had never seen before. They looked fresh out of high school, idealistic. It was hard to believe that she’d ever been that way, but she knew she had been.

  “I didn’t see them at the mix and mingle last night,” London said.

  “That’s because you only had eyes for Kade Smith,” Lacey retorted with a smirk.

  London’s face immediately grew hot. “I don’t have eyes for Kade Smith. We knew each other as teenagers and were talking—that’s all.”

  “That’s not what it looked like to me, and several of the other girls feel the same way.”

  London gripped the edge of her plate a little tighter. “You went around and asked them?”

  “Oh, of course not. I’m just telling you what I happened to overhear.” Lacey nodded toward the other contestants. “I can’t help it if the girls are gossiping. You know how girls are.”

  “Yes, I do. And thank you for the warning.” London worked her way to the side of the room and took a seat, her hands trembling with rage. Who did Lacey think she was? And why did she think she had to be so . . . so . . . mean and hateful to get a crown?

  Chelsea came and sat down next to her. “One thing I hate about my last name being Baker—I’m near the start of every line,” she said. “At least I didn’t pass out or trip or anything like that.”

  “So it went all right, then?” London asked. She needed to pull her focus off Lacey or she’d just drive herself crazy.

  “I think so. They asked pretty easy questions about where I grew up and why I’m competing here, stuff like that. We’ll see how it comes out in print.”

  “I bet it’ll sound great.” London nodded toward the food table. “Do you want something to eat?”

  “Now that I’m finished, yes. My stomach’s been in knots all morning and I haven’t been able to eat a thing.”

  Chelsea moved off to the food table, and London picked at what was on her plate. Now it was her stomach in knots. Even though she didn’t want to admit it, Lacey had gotten to her, and that frustrated her. They were all in their early twenties now, but acting like teenagers. It was like a time warp, and she was more than ready to move on.

  When it was finally her turn, London grabbed her compact out of her bag and made sure she didn’t have anything between her teeth, then entered the side room where the interviews were taking place. The three judges were there too, as they’d been told they would be, and London decided it would be best to ignore Kade altogether. She took her seat at the front of the room and smiled at the newspaper reporters who were there with their notebooks and tape recorders at the ready.

  “Miss Russell, what brings you to the Sweet Georgia Peach competition this year?” one of the female reporters asked.

  “It’s an opportunity to show pride in my community and to give back to a place that has given me so much,” she replied, hoping her answer didn’t sound memorized. But then she tacked on, “In addition, I’m competing in the hopes of winning a scholarship so I can attend law school, which will also help me serve the fine people of Atlanta.”

  “Law school?” one of the men asked. “How did you arrive at that decision?”

  “My sister, Amber, is a lawyer, and she’s always been a great inspiration to me. When I saw how much she was able to help people, I realized that I’d like to be able to do the same.”

  “That’s quite a departure from other things you’ve done in your life,” the man continued. He looked down at a sheet of paper, and London realized that the reporters had a dossier on each of them. “I see that when you started college, you were majoring in fashion design.”

  “That’s right. I’ve always been fascinated by that industry.”

  “But now you’re not pursuing it?”

  “Oh, I’ll always be sketching and making my own clothes. I enjoy it too much. But the law is where my heart is leading me.”

  “And you won’t be changing your mind?” the man persisted.

  “Good grief, Dean,” one of the other men interrupted. “The girl’s not on trial. This is an entertainment piece, not a criminal investigation.”

  “Don’t you think our readers deserve a little depth in these fluff pieces?” Dean shook his head. “It’s not all about dresses and dental work, you know.”

  London took a deep breath. “I’ll answer whatever you’d like me to,” she said, glancing over at the judges. She noticed that Mayor Morgan sat up a little straighter, as though he was finally paying attention.

  Dean lifted an eyebrow. “Very well, Miss Russell. Is it true that your father was killed in a drunk-driving accident that he caused by his own reckless behavior?”

  “Yes, that’s completely true,” she responded levelly.

  “And that he was abusive before then?”

  “I was two when he died, so I have very few memories of him. But yes, I do remember that he had a violent temper, and my sister has told me some stories as well.”

  Dean nodded, seeming pleased, and scribbled notes in his book.

  “I would also like to say that even though my background is less than stellar, I still have the ability to shape my life however I want,” she continued. “In fact, I’d say that my past makes me more empathetic toward others and will enable me to be an even better representative for our community and this program. It’s all about overcoming, ascending, and transcending, isn’t it?” She glanced at Mrs. Fitzpatrick, who nodded.

  “Well, I think we’ve had enough heavy questions for this contestant,” one of the female reporters broke in. “London, do you have any quirky habits or phobias we should know about?”

  London laughed and told them that she didn’t like her food to touch, and the whole tone of the interview changed—thank goodness.

  The judges stood as she passed their table on her way out, and Kade reached out and caught her elbow. “Hey, that was rough, but you handled it well,” he said in a low voice. “I didn’t know they were going to bait anyone like that.”

  “It’s okay,” she replied, shrugging, not wanting him to see that she was, in fact, a little bit rattled. “I don’t have anything to hide.” She just wanted to hide her emotions.

  “Hey, can we get some coffee later or something?”

  She blinked. “I don’t think that’s such a great idea, Kade. I mean, you’re already meeting Chelsea later, and apparently, there are some rumors starting to circulate about us, and I think we should just focus on the pageant, all right?” She took a step back, away from his hand on her elbow. “I’ll see you later at the next event.”

  “All right,” he said as she walked away. Maybe she imagined it, but she thought she heard a note of regret in his voice.

  Chapter Five

  “And the questions, Mom—the questions!” London pressed her pillow over her face for a minute and faked a scream. “I have no idea how this interview is going to come out, but I can’t imagine that it’s going to be good. They asked about Dad, and they asked if I was going to stay in law school. Apparently, because I changed my major from fashion, they think I’m too flighty for the law.”

  “You’ll just have to prove them wrong, won’t you?” Evelyn finished smearing her avocado facial cream under her eyes and held the tub out toward London. She shook her head. She could probably use it, but it felt like too much work.

  “Listen, honey. You’ve always risen above your c
ircumstances, and I have no doubt that you will this time too. Now, I need to turn in—I have another meeting in the morning.”

  London held back a sigh. She was starting to wonder why her mother had even come to stay with her in the hotel—London could have roomed with Chelsea, if it was a matter of not being alone. Evelyn hadn’t been there much at all so far, and hadn’t done any supervising or chaperoning or whatever one might expect from one’s mother when one was in a pageant and facing one’s old nemesis and scary, mean newspaper reporters.

  “I think I’ll go for a swim,” London said, and Evelyn nodded. She looked like a dish of guacamole.

  London changed into her royal blue one-piece suit, put on a robe and grabbed a towel, then headed for the pool. It was late enough that she had it all to herself. The night sky was twinkling overhead as she lowered herself into the water, and she floated on her back and tried to pick out her favorite constellations. After a few minutes, she flipped over and started to swim laps, not stopping until she needed a breather.

  When she came out of the water, she saw Kade sitting on one of the poolside chairs, watching her.

  “You don’t take no for an answer, do you?” She pulled her robe off another chair and put it on, then began toweling her hair. “You can’t tell me that you being here is a coincidence.”

  “No, I saw you come in here and I followed you.”

  “An honest stalker. That’s refreshing.” She sat down and motioned for him to go ahead. “And why did you follow me?”

  He leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees. “I just wanted to make sure you were all right.”

  “I’m very all right. I had a good dinner, I didn’t cry—I’m not unbalanced in any way.”

  His lips twitched. “Good. I’m glad to hear it.”

  London wrapped her towel around her head like a turban. “How was your date with Chelsea?”

  “She’s a really nice girl. Pretty, fun—there just wasn’t a spark there, you know? It was like hanging out with my sister or a friend. I’m glad I met her, though. She seems cool.”

  “She is. She’s my one friend on the pageant circuit.”

  Kade looked curious. “Don’t you know any of the other contestants?”

  London laughed. “Oh, I know most of them. But that doesn’t mean we’re friends. There’s too much emotional competition as well as what goes on during the actual pageant.”

  “Takes the fun out of it, I bet.”

  “Big time.” London unwrapped the towel and ran her fingers through her hair. They must have used extra chlorine in the pool—she could really smell it. “Listen. What I said earlier, about the rumors—the other girls are starting to talk about us. They’ve noticed how much we’ve been chatting.”

  Kade held up both hands. “I don’t mean to get in the middle of any of the drama—that’s not my thing. But we really haven’t talked that much. What, ten minutes last night and a few minutes today?”

  It had been longer than that, but London wasn’t going to argue the point. “Be that as it may, have you spent that much time with any of the other girls?”

  “Just Chelsea. I really don’t mean to make things awkward for you, London. If you’d rather not talk to me anymore, I’ll understand.”

  That sort of sounded like he’d planned on talking to her more, but he was willing to change those plans. Was he seeking her out? Aside from following her to the pool, of course, because that was pretty blatant. But what did he want?

  “I think we’d better go our separate ways,” she said at last. It was so hard to know how to handle this when she didn’t even know what he was up to. He had to be hatching up some sort of plan to totally humiliate her—that was all he did when it came to her.

  “Okay. I can respect that. No more following you to the pool.”

  “Thank you.” She stood up. “Goodnight. I’ll see you tomorrow at the judges’ interviews.”

  He rose when she did. “’Night, London. Sleep well.”

  ***

  Almost as soon as London closed her door, there was a knock on it. She flung it back open in exasperation. “Honestly, if you keep hounding me—” Then she realized it was Chelsea standing there and not Kade.

  “Hi,” she said, feeling sheepish. “Come in. Mom’s asleep, but she wears earplugs, so as long as we’re quiet, we can talk.”

  “Are you sure? You sounded a little upset just now when you opened the door.”

  “Um, that was something totally unrelated.” London stepped aside so Chelsea could come in. They each took a chair over by the window, and London glanced at her mother to make sure she was still asleep. Good.

  “So, tell me how it went with Kade,” London said.

  “He’s amazing. He’s so good-looking, a perfect gentleman, interesting, funny . . . and there’s just nothing there.” Chelsea sighed. “He reached out to take my hand as I was sliding out of the booth, and it was just a hand.”

  “What were you expecting it to be?” London asked with a chuckle.

  “Well, a hand, of course, but there was no chemistry at all. And then he kissed my cheek as we were saying goodnight, and again, nothing. I was so disappointed.”

  London was relieved. After hearing Kade’s report, she was worried that Chelsea would come in all starry-eyed and in love, and that her feelings would be crushed. “But you had fun?”

  “We had a lot of fun. It just wasn’t romantic fun.”

  “I’m sorry.” Even though London was glad that her friend was safe from the terror of Kade, she did wish that she’d been able to do something nice for her as a thank you for not being insane. “If I think of any other super-hot football players I know, I’ll be sure to introduce you.”

  “Just make sure they aren’t gaga about you first.”

  London blinked. “What are you talking about?”

  Chelsea gave her a “you’ve got to be kidding me” look. “Kade. You. You and Kade. Come on, London.”

  “I honestly don’t know what you mean.”

  “That guy is totally hung up on you.”

  London couldn’t help it—her jaw literally dropped. “You read that very, very wrong,” she said at last. “We don’t like each other. Not at all. We can’t even be frenemies because there’s not enough ‘fre’ in there. He’s not hung up on me. Trust me.”

  “Then why did he bring you up every other sentence all through dinner?”

  “He did?”

  Chelsea nodded.

  London was beyond flabbergasted. “Uh . . . maybe he was looking for something the two of you have in common,” she said at last. It was the only explanation she could come up with, the only thing that made sense.

  “If you say so.” The look on Chelsea’s face said she absolutely did not believe her. “Hey, I heard that the reporters were kind of rough on you today. Is everything all right?”

  Oh, great. Another rumor being circulated. Well, maybe this one would drown out the other ones because it was true. “It was nothing, really. One of them asked about my dad, and I just told them the truth.”

  Chelsea winced. “I would have burst into tears.”

  London thought about that for a second. “You know, I guess I’ve just had to deal with it for so long that it’s a part of my life. I was rattled, definitely, that they even knew about it—I don’t like it when people are nosy. But it wasn’t as terrible as it sounds.”

  “You’re awesome, London.” Chelsea glanced at her watch. “Oh, and I’d better go. See you in the morning!”

  “See ya.”

  London washed her face and put on her pajamas, then decided to go ahead and use some of her mother’s green face goop. It couldn’t hurt, and it might even help. The problem was, though, that it made her want a giant bowl of tortilla chips.

  And what on earth was all that about Kade? Chelsea must have been exaggerating—he did not spend their whole date talking about her. That was just crazy.

  Chapter Six

  “Wow. This looks a ton better t
han it did yesterday.” Kade stood at the top of the stairs leading to his flooded basement. All the water had been pumped out, and there were fans sitting in the corners. Thank goodness it was still concrete down there. If it had been a finished basement, and they’d had to rip out carpet . . .

  “Yeah, the guys worked hard.” Dillon gave a nod and then stepped back into the kitchen, where the plans for the house were laid out on the counter. “I wanted to ask you about the cabinets while you’re here. I need to get back to Jean—she’s not feeling so great.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. Anything I can do?”

  Dillon shrugged. “Nothing comes to mind, but I’ll let you know if I think of anything.”

  Kade spent another thirty minutes talking to Dillon about kinds of wood and taking measurements and choosing paint colors, then realized what time it was. He sent his best wishes to Jean and jogged out to his truck. When he’d been asked to judge this pageant, he’d thought his schedule was pretty clear because the team wasn’t in training just then. He hadn’t planned on this house project being such a big deal. It was one of those live-and-learn things, he guessed.

  As soon as he entered the hotel, he noticed Mrs. Fitzpatrick standing in the lobby, tapping one foot on the floor. He was pretty sure it was just for dramatic effect—he’d never seen anyone actually do that naturally.

  “I’m really sorry, Mrs. Fitzpatrick,” he told her as he drew near. “I know I’m coming off as unreliable—”

  “Mr. Smith, aren’t you aware that we have a tight schedule? We have to be ready for the pageant itself on Friday night, which is being broadcast live on a local channel, and we don’t have time to wait for you and your so-called emergencies.” She fixed him with a look. “All the contestants are waiting in the anteroom, your fellow judges are waiting in the interview room, and none of us are impressed by your behavior.”

  Kade ducked his head. If this lady ever wanted to coach for the NFL, she’d be good at it—she could bring a whole field of football players to their knees. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled.