by Ava Miles
“What do you think of her?” she asked, running her hands along its body. “I’ve named her Pearl.”
“I think you still drive like a bat out of hell, and this convertible is bound to make it worse.” A slow smile stretched across Susannah’s face as she ran her hand over Pearl’s white body. “But I love her. Your Christmas bonus really must have been hefty.”
“It was,” she said grandly, buffing her nails on her teal jacket and blowing on them. “My boss loves me.”
Shelby counted her blessings everyday. For the last five years, she’d been the personal accountant for Gail Hardcrew, one of Nashville’s leading entrepreneurs. Gail had inherited the money from her daddy and first husband and used it to create places she’d want to patronize involving her three favorite past times: food, clothes, and personal grooming. Now she owned two restaurants, three fashion boutiques, and four hair salons.
“You make me want to get a convertible,” Susannah said, running her hand along the frame.
“You should,” Shelby said, “but not like mine. We can’t be car twins.”
Her sister snorted as she finally stopped admiring Pearl and pulled her into a hug. “I love you, but not that much.”
“It’s too chilly to pop the top today, but I had it down yesterday. It’s been warm for January.”
“It has,” Susannah agreed as they linked arms and walked to the coffee shop. “I almost brought out the open-toe shoes, but I’m behind on my pedicures.”
Shelby laughed. “What have I told you about trailer-park-trash toes? They’re just not done. Mr. Sex-On-A-Stick wouldn’t go for it.”
Her sister slanted her a glance. Just like she’d expected. Heck, she’d been waiting for this moment ever since Susannah had told her about the scheduling of their first consultation. Nudging her, Shelby gave her a saucy wink. “So…how was Jake yesterday?”
Susannah nudged her back and led the way to an open table in the corner. “You can ask, but I may not answer. He’s a client, Shelby. No more calling him Mr. Sex-On-A-Stick. That stops now.”
Since her pout was her signature, Shelby gave it her all. “Oh, poo. You’re no fun!” Knowing full well that Susannah wouldn’t respond, she plopped down onto an open chair and placed her purse in the adjacent seat. Southern women never put their handbags on the floor.
“Let’s order,” Susannah said, still standing. “You’re going to make me get the drinks, aren’t you?”
“Yep,” she answered with an extra bit of sugar in her voice. “If you’re not spilling on Mr. Sex, then you’re buying.”
“I’m buying,” Susannah said and rummaged through her bag for her wallet before setting it down next to Shelby’s.
“Cappuccino.” Shelby kicked her feet up on Susannah’s chair.
Her sister narrowed her eyes. “Don’t get too comfortable.”
“I won’t, honey,” she drawled.
When Susannah walked off, Shelby almost laughed. Her sister’s chin was in the air, almost as if she were an aloof queen. It suited her as the oldest girl in the family. Susannah had a royal way about her, while Shelby considered herself to be more of a Southern belle.
A paper coffee cup snapped down in front of her.
“Are we really not talking about Jake Lassiter?” Shelby asked Susannah, removing her feet from her sister’s chair.
“We’re really not.” She seated herself grandly.
Sisters could be so annoying sometimes. “But he’s adorable. And he likes you. It’s obvious.”
“Shelby, I swear,” Susannah said with an aggrieved sigh. “He hired me to be his decorator. He wouldn’t have done that if he wanted to ask me out.”
Opening three packets of sugar, she dumped the contents into her cup. “I’ve noticed the way he looks at you. I know things.”
“You don’t. We’re not talking about this.”
There was an edge in her voice, one Shelby recognized all too well. “But you thought he was going to ask you out, right?”
There was no sign of her sister’s usual warmth in her green eyes. “I’m going to take my tea on the road if you’re going to keep this up.”
That wiped the pretend pout off her face. “Susannah. Level with me, and then I won’t bother you about this again. You’re upset, and I hate seeing that.” In truth, she was worried about her sister. She’d seen the way Susannah looked at Jake—it was rare.
“I’m not upset,” her sister said with little conviction. “Really. I won’t deny that his place is going to be a big job though.”
“And?” Sometimes Susannah needed to be prodded like a cow.
“Oh, fine!” she said, setting her tea aside. “He seemed troubled. His home is bare, like Army-barracks bare. I invited him to come to church with all of us to hear Mama this Sunday, and after initially saying no, he agreed.”
Now that was interesting. Why would he have said no at first? Maybe he wasn’t a church-going man, in which case he might not be right for Susannah after all.
“I’m glad he’s going,” Shelby said diplomatically.
“This doesn’t mean he’s interested in me. He just needs…I don’t honestly know. He’s lonely and still hurting from his time in the war.”
“And you want to help him.” Then the light bulb went on in Shelby’s head. “Like J.P. helps in his own way by writing songs with Jake. You’re going to do it with your heart and your talent of making a house into a home. Are you finally going to admit you like him that way?”
Susannah took her time brushing her hair over her shoulder.
“You know you can’t hide anything from us, right?”
“I don’t want to admit it,” Susannah said quietly.
“Why not?”
“Because I can’t tell how he feels about me.” She pressed a hand to her forehead. “I didn’t tell you and Sadie because I didn’t want you two to make fun of me.”
Or pressure her. She knew Susannah, who was thirty, had been receiving plenty of pressure from the old biddies at church. Shelby was glad she had a couple of years left before the big three oh—not that people didn’t still comment about her being single. Her usual reply was that she wasn’t even thirty yet. She was going to need a new excuse then.
“I’m sorry we made fun of you,” Shelby said, grabbing her sister’s hand. “In the beginning, we didn’t know you liked him. Now that we know you do, and that you’re unsettled about it, we won’t tease you anymore. I promise.”
Susannah studied her to see if she meant it and then sighed. “Okay. I appreciate it. He reminds me of some of the veterans at church. He’s hurting, Shelby. I mean…he’s sleeping on a mattress on the floor with nothing but white sheets. No dresser. No lamp. It was horr-i-ble. In all my years of decorating people’s houses, I have never seen anything like it. And it’s not like he doesn’t have money.”
Sleeping on the floor? Poor Jake. She never would have guessed he was hurting that much, particularly since he looked so confident on stage. But her focus right now was on Susannah.
She knew that tone.
“It’s not your job to save him, you know.”
“I only invited him to church…”
Everyone knew where that kind of thing led. You didn’t invite a man to church if you didn’t have a glimmer of hope you might save him. It was so Walk The Line.
“Can we talk about something else, please?” Susannah asked.
Shelby nodded. “So, I like your new dress,” she said, gesturing to her sister’s navy sheath. A brown leather belt cinched her tiny waist. “I wish I could wear something like that, but it would make me look like a hippo wearing a girdle.”
“Oh, hush,” Susannah said with a frown. “I wish I had your curves. I’m like an ironing board.”
“No, you’re not.”
“And you aren’t that curvy,” her sister added to be sweet.
“I know,” she said because it was expected. She did know she wasn’t horribly curvy. She just wished her boobs and hips didn’t st
ick out so far.
Susannah took a sip of her tea, so Shelby decided to change the subject.
“Have you thought about passing on the job with Jake? If it’s going to bother you this much, maybe you should bow out.” Not that her sister would.
“I thought we weren’t talking about this anymore,” Susannah said.
“Just a thought.” She picked up her cappuccino and took a healthy sip.
They fell into silence. Susannah started making faces at the baby at the next table, getting the little one to laugh. Shelby grabbed her phone and checked her voicemail. She knew the infant ruse well. Children always took a shine to Susannah—and vice versa—so playing with them was her favorite and most used delaying tactic. Her sister would answer her when she was ready.
“I can’t say no to him now,” Susannah finally said when the baby went back to trying to steal her mama’s spoon.
“If you could say no, would you?” Shelby pressed, setting her phone aside.
“No.”
“Well, that cinches it. You’ll decorate his house, be his friend, take him to church—and maybe, just maybe, his spirit will mend.”
She didn’t dare give voice to the rest of her thought—that Susannah and Jake might fall in love and give in to their obvious attraction to each other—but it pleased her to imagine it. Since she wasn’t interested in anyone right now, so she had to enjoy life vicariously.
“Be his friend,” her sister mused, wincing when she drank her tea. “It’s cold.”
Shelby rose. “I’ll have them heat it up.”
Her sister looked horrified by the notion.
“You’re such a novice,” she said with a wink. “They’ll offer to make you a new one for free. It’s good business.”
As she took off for the counter, a little girl with pigtails and a pink dress shouted, “Daddy,” and darted across the coffee shop, nearly colliding with Shelby. A well-dressed man beaming a smile as bright as sunshine snatched the girl up off the floor.
The pinch to her heart dredged up something she’d been stewing over for a while now. Should she find out what had happened to her father? No one else in the family seemed to want to know, but she’d never stopped thinking about it. Maybe it was because she barely remembered him. She always found herself wondering what he looked like now and where he was living. Was he even alive? In some of her fantasies, she spun a tale of how he’d died of sorrow at a young age after leaving them.
How could no one else be curious?
But curiosity killed the cat, Mama was fond of saying. And the rest of her family might be hurt if she went through with it and tried to find their daddy.
She was between a rock and a hard place.
Flirting with the barista took her mind off her troubles, and she was smiling again when she returned to Susannah with a steaming cup of tea.
“You’re terrible,” her sister said, fighting a smile.
“I don’t see you pushing it away. I could probably drink another cappuccino.”
Susannah took the cup. “You’re too hyper as it is. It’s a wonder you haven’t been pulled over for speeding in that new car.”
She breezily waved the air. “I was yesterday, but I talked my way out of it. All you have to do is bat your eyelashes and say in the sweetest tone ever, ‘Oh, Officer, was I speeding? I didn’t know what the limit was. I was thinking about my poor mama.’”
“Did I say terrible? You’re the kind of trouble that gives the word a bad name.”
“Trouble isn’t bad,” she said easily. “I like to shake things up. Life would be so boring otherwise.”
While Susannah drank her tea, Shelby tried to keep from watching the family sitting on the other side of the coffee shop, but when it came time to leave, she gave them one last look.
The daddy was holding his little girl on his knee as she colored in a coloring book. When he kissed the top of his daughter’s curly blond head and tugged playfully on her pigtail, she had to bite her lip. Had her daddy ever done anything like that with her?
“She’s a cutie, isn’t she?” Susannah said, nodding to the little girl.
“She is indeed,” Shelby replied as they left.
Susannah liked to watch other children when they were in public and dream about having her own.
Shelby liked to watch other daddies and wonder what had become of theirs.
Chapter 5
Jake was sweating like a sinner in church and none too happy about it. Especially since Susannah was sitting right beside him. Her fragrance reminded him of honeysuckle on a hot summer day, and it was so enticing, he found himself grateful for the demure neckline of her simple green dress. Not that he would let his eyes stray today. He might not have darkened the door of a local church for some years, but he still had manners.
J.P., Tammy, and her two children were nestled to his right. The little blond-haired girl, Annabelle, had climbed over J.P.’s lap at the beginning of services to nestle in between the two men. She’d whispered to him in her church voice that she was in kindergarten.
He’d given her a wary smile and tried to edge away. He was sweating, after all, and she was so sweet in her pink dress stitched with little white hearts. Of course, she’d only scooted closer to him, which he couldn’t do much about lest he end up nestled closer to Susannah. People were already watching them with unguarded interest, and he didn’t want to add fuel to that fire. No siree.
His friend and fellow country music star, Rye Crenshaw, sat in front of them with his wife, Tory. Rye had given him a welcoming hug when he’d arrived five minutes before the service.
The temptation to chicken out and skip the service had been almost overwhelming, but in the end, Jake had promised Susannah he’d come, and he wasn’t the kind of man to go back on his word. Especially to a beautiful woman.
Correction. Decorator. She was his decorator.
Of course, no one believed that. Rye’s sister, Amelia Ann, had given him a knowing smile before cuddling close to Clayton Chandler, her fiancé and Rye’s manager. They’d gotten engaged over New Year’s after a rough start, and the family couldn’t be happier for the couple.
Then there were Susannah’s sisters, Sadie and Shelby, whom J.P. had tried to protect him from on occasion. They had a little too much of the “fan girl” thing going on. He hoped they wouldn’t ask for his autograph after services, although he expected others might. The whole autograph thing still embarrassed Jake. It didn’t make sense to him why anyone would want his messy scrawl on a piece of paper—or, worse, a photograph.
The church’s hymns were mostly familiar, although there were some upbeat ones he rather liked. In fact, the church seemed downright modern if you asked him. The choir had played “It Is Well” and a song by Toby Mac called “Speak Life.” He’d blended his voice to harmonize with Rye’s, and J.P. and Clayton had joined in. He’d liked singing with his friends. Of course, it had only attracted more attention to their little section in the church.
He wanted to squirm in his seat.
When Reverend Louisa appeared at the pulpit, Annabelle rose up on her knees so she could whisper in his ear, “That’s my grandmamma.”
As he nodded to her serious little face, Jake felt Susannah turn her head toward him. The pull to look at her was impossible to resist. Her moss-green eyes were liquid and soft when their gazes met, and he almost broke his vow and asked her out then and there.
But suddenly he heard, “Grace can save,” and he swung his gaze back to the pulpit.
Susannah’s mama had silver hair that bobbed under a strong chin, the kind that conveyed she wasn’t merely a sweet ol’ Christian lady. No, he expected she could be tough when it came down to it. If that chin didn’t do its job, the red suit she was wearing would.
“I met a man this week who’d lost his wife a year ago,” she began in a voice that was as powerful as it was soft, rather like caramel candies.
“He was wondering how he could ever get on with his life,” she said, and
then paused to scan her congregation. When her gaze came his way, Jake felt like she was staring straight at him.
“His wife had died in a car accident, you see. She was only thirty-two years old. God had seen fit to take her young, which made it all the more tragic. This couple had only been married for two years—not even close to long enough.”
Jake couldn’t help but think about how little time Booker and his wife had been given together. How was Diane even doing? He’d tried to call her a few times, but her voice had told him all he needed to know. It pained her to talk to him. His Army buddies Darren, Monty, and Randy had tried to reach out to her as well, but she’d been no more inclined to talk with them. Jake took a little comfort in the fact that he’d been able to help her out financially.
“I told the man I was so sorry for his loss,” Reverend Louisa continued, “and I asked after his name so I could pray for him. His name was Tommy, and he used to work in construction. Made a good living at it, but he felt like all his dreams for a family had died with his wife.”
Is that how Diane had felt? He knew Booker would have wanted her to find someone else to love. But had she? It really wasn’t any of his business, of course, but he hoped so. Monty had tied the knot over a year ago to a sweet-as-pie waitress after finally getting a handle on his own PTSD. He was the first of their group to get hitched after receiving his disability discharge, and Jake hoped it would turn out okay for him and the rest of his friends. But it still wasn’t fair Booker wouldn’t get his happy ending.
“Tommy said he’d lost his faith,” the Reverend continued, “like some of you have out there, I expect.”
Now he knew she was talking about him. Jake returned his focus to his surroundings. His heartbeat was increasing in speed, and he was sure those around him could hear the pounding. He recognized the signs of his PTSD returning. Anxiety. Disassociation from the present. Anger.