Malcolm turned the information over in his mind. “The mother left, leaving Annie alone?”
Nick frowned. “I didn’t know that.”
“She was of age,” Delaney told him. “No reason Annie couldn’t take care of herself.”
“And all she has left is her daughter Casey?” Malcolm asked.
“That’s right. And trust me,” Delaney said, slowing with Nick as they reached his parked car, “Casey will take to her Aunt Lacy about as warmly as a hawk on a squirrel.”
Surprised by the venom in her voice, Malcolm commented, “That friendly, huh?”
“There’s no love lost between the Owens girls. Annie wasn’t real fond of Lacy growing up, but at least they were on speaking terms back then.”
“And now?”
Delaney squinted against the late afternoon sun and explained, “Annie is the jealous type. She’s jealous of me, jealous of Lacy. Pretty much any female, except Candi Sweeney, and Annie never took kindly to the fact that her younger sister Lacy was prettier than her, or the fact that she stole her boyfriend.”
Malcolm exchanged a knowing glance with Nick. Annie was not an ugly woman, by any definition of the word. She may not have the knockout figure of her sister Lacy, with her slim hips and busty cleavage, but Annie was attractive in her own right.
“Annie is going to become an old maid,” Delaney predicted, “because she can’t see past her own envy.”
Point noted. Don’t bring up Lacy around Delaney.
Nick pressed the key fob and with a double beep, the car doors unlocked. Nick opened the passenger door and Delaney lowered down to the seat. Nick closed the door and turned to Malcolm. “It’s not a good subject.”
“I see that.” Dropping a fleeting gaze toward the seated Delaney, he asked, “Will I be disowned if I cross enemy lines?”
Nick smiled. “You might be.” Placing a hand to Malcolm’s shoulder, he said, “But you’re a gambling man, so I’d suggest you proceed at your own risk.”
“Any idea where I might bump into Lacy on a Friday night?”
Nick grinned and shook him lightly. “The only place in town anyone goes. Whiskey Joe’s.”
Malcolm winked. “Sounds like my kind of place.”
Chapter Five
Candi homed in on the man walking through the salon. Her pulse quickened, her eyes sharpening in alarm. Jeremiah Ladd. While he had changed, matured, there was no mistaking it was him. Here—in her salon. Dressed in indigo blue jeans, ostrich boots and fancy purple-blue shirt, Jeremiah popped like a firecracker as he marched toward her. She gulped, clutched her station’s chair back, noting that several hairstylists were glued to his every move.
Slowing, he drawled, “Candi Sweeney.”
She tightened her grip and said, “Jeremiah.” Candi tried to smile, but standing rigid, the attempt failed. Darting a glance around the neighboring styling stations, she wondered what the women were thinking. Most of the stylists were too young to know Jeremiah, but Ida did. Would she recognize him?
Easy and familiar, he ignored the other women and their clients, seemingly focused only on her as he asked, “How the heck are you?”
“Good.”
“You look great,” he said smoothly, eyes freely roaming her face, her body, over the black dress and apron she wore, clear down to her glossy black toenails.
Nerves fluttered across her breast. Candi remembered Jeremiah and his smooth talking ways only too well. Back in the day, he’d been smoother than a Tom cat on the prowl, a bad boy magnet for the girls. For as long as she could remember, Jeremiah had been the one the girls talked about, flocked to—herself included. She tamped the memory back. But that was then, this was now. “Oh, Jeremiah...” Candi batted the compliment away. “How you do go on. I’m just a hillbilly, you know that.”
“You don’t look like a hillbilly to me,” he observed. “In fact, you put the women of Atlanta to shame.”
Candi nudged her way farther behind her chair, wondering why Jeremiah was here. She’d told him everything he needed to know. There was no reason to stop by and speak to her in person. She whittled a glance around the salon and thought if word got back to Annie that he was here making nice, it would not sit well. Her friend was already unhappy over the fact that Candi had called him. The last thing Candi needed was for Annie to suspect something was going on between them. She shuddered. “Jeremiah, what are you doing in a women’s salon, anyway?” she tried to tease. “I’m sure you have better things to do.”
“Now, Candi. You know I have the hots for you.” He leaned closer and she caught of drift of his cologne. “Always have. And you called me, remember?”
Was he seriously here to make a pass at her?
“Well,” Candi stammered, “you know I did and you know very well why,” she whispered, willing him to understand that this was a private matter.
Jeremiah winked. “I’d like to think it was more than helping out an old friend.”
Candi didn’t like the lust gathering in his eyes. Feeling the heat from shifty glances, she wanted Jeremiah out of her salon and quick. Ida would send word through town faster than a swat on a fly putting Ashley first on that list, followed by Delaney, Annie, Fran—the whole town would know by supper time!
Candi struggled to stay calm. “What can I say?” she began carefully. “When I heard about Ernie signing the property over to Delaney and Felicity I had to call you. It ain’t right!” she cried righteously, hoping it would sway him from making further advances.
Jeremiah smiled, as though he understood perfectly. “Doesn’t mean you and me can’t have a little fun while I’m in town.”
“Jeremiah,” she said tightly, checking for witnesses to their encounter.
“What? It could be just like the old days...”
Candi shook her head vehemently. Please don’t say any more.
When she didn’t respond, Jeremiah pulled back, apparently taking her refusal in stride. “Your loss.” He surveyed the salon in short order and said, “About the property deal. What exactly do you know about it?”
“Nothing,” she replied abruptly, relief streaming through her. “Other than Delaney is trying to get it all for herself and Felicity—like I told you.”
“Those two men with her are the hotel guys, right?”
Candi balked. “Two men?”
He nodded. “Two.”
She smoothed the hair down on either side of her face, knowing the ears of her gossipy coworkers were burning red hot over their conversation. But at this point, all she could do was get Jeremiah out and the only way to do that was to answer him. “Well, Annie told me about the one, man. His name is Nick Harris. According to her, he’s the one who wants to build a hotel on the property.”
Jeremiah’s brow rose. “Must be his partner.”
“Maybe.” Candi nodded, flicking an annoyed glance at Ida, openly staring at her now. “He was trying to buy the property from Ernie before Delaney got her hands on it.”
“Any idea why the old man wouldn’t sell?” Jeremiah asked, searching her gaze. “Seems to me a hotel man could offer a pretty penny for the place.”
“I don’t. But you know Ernie—he’s as hard-headed as they come! The only one he seems sweet on is Felicity.” Jeremiah perked at the mention of Delaney’s daughter. “Felicity plays her flute for him. That’s what Casey says, anyway.” At Jeremiah’s blank look, Candi added pointedly, “Casey is Annie’s daughter.”
Something he already knew.
“Casey and Felicity are friends?” Jeremiah asked, as though surprised by the revelation.
“Kinda. The Parker boys are the common tie between them.”
“Parker boys? As in Morton Parker?”
“Yes. He has a passel of kids and the youngest two are twins, Travis and Troy. Well, they hang out with Felicity and Casey, and Casey gets most of her scoop from the boys.”
“I see.” He swung a conspiratorial gaze around the salon and asked, “Where do I find these boys?”
�
��The twins? Why they’re everywhere, but usually you can find them at Fran’s.”
Jeremiah’s expression closed and Candi realized he would be persona-non-grata there.
“What about Casey?” he asked. “She around somewhere?”
Candi blinked. “Have you not spoken to Annie?”
“Why would I?” he questioned, in what Candi found to be a wholly contemptuous tone.
“Because she’s—” Candi gasped, and cried under her breath, “Annie!”
Annie stood like a stone in the Bangs reception area, her eyes fastened on Jeremiah. She held her breath as she stared, shock swirling through disbelief and curiosity, mixed with an emotion that bordered on hate, which oddly included a murky longing.
Jeremiah turned from Candi, the instant recognition transforming his expression from lazy pleasure to a steely interest. Candi jerked her hands away from her styling chair, the look in her eyes one of sheer desperation. Annie’s brain felt muddled. Fuzzy.
Racing around Jeremiah, Candi hurried down the center aisle toward Annie. “Annie!” she exclaimed and quickly saddled up on her friends’ side.
But Annie only had eyes for Jeremiah. It was the first time she had seen him since he and Lacy took off for Atlanta. Eighteen long years since she’d held the man in her gaze, in the flesh. She’d have to give him his looks. He still looked good, his body lean, seemingly in shape. As he approached, she noted the lines in his face, but rather than old, they added depth, maturity. Jeremiah Ladd looked the same as he had when he left, only older, wiser.
Better. Annie swallowed the lump in her throat and said, “Hello, Jeremiah.”
“Hello, Annie.” He stopped front and center, his glance lingering on Candi’s as though the two shared a secret.
Annie looked to Candi who blurted, “Jeremiah just stopped by—like five minutes ago—wanting to know how to find you.” She dodged his gaze and added, “And here you are.”
Candi fussed with the blonde hair around her eyes, ran her hands down her apron, then slipped them into her front pockets. Wondering why Candi was rambling, Annie turned back to Jeremiah. And why had he come to Candi to find her? Her name hadn’t changed. She was in the phone book.
“How ya been?” Jeremiah asked her. “You work here, too?” Setting hands to hips, he hurled a presumptive glance around the salon, as though he owned one just like it.
“No,” she replied automatically. “I work at Trendz.”
Jeremiah nodded, but didn’t delve deeper. “So listen, Candi,” he said. “We’ll be in touch, okay?”
Like a wet cat with her tail ensnared in an electrical outlet, Candi look horrified.
Smiling syrup and slime, Jeremiah tossed to her, “See you around, baby.”
Annie watched him walk out of the salon, sunlight setting fire to the gold in his hair. The door swooshed closed and he was gone. Suspended in a haze, she stood dumbstruck within the confines of the busy salon. Had that really happened? Her gaze drifting from the front door to Candi, Annie noted the fear squeezing out through the brown eyes of her friend. Questions plagued her. Why had Jeremiah stopped by? Why check with her first? The image of Candi and Jeremiah standing together by her chair crystallized in Annie’s mind. Epiphany pinched. “Is something going on between you two?” she asked.
“No! Why would you ask?”
“Well, when I walked in here, you two seemed awfully cozy...”
“Good God, girlfriend, no way! There is nothing going on between me and Jeremiah.”
At Candi’s fidgety scan of the salon, Annie swept around to see what she was looking at. All eyes were on them, yet no one spoke a word. Humiliation welled deep in her heart. With great effort, Annie turned faced Candi directly. “Candi Sweeney, don’t you lie to me. What was Jeremiah doing here?”
“Nothing, Annie. He stopped by looking for you.”
At the crack in her voice, Annie’s trust shriveled. “I don’t believe you.”
Candi’s demeanor began to unravel. “Annie, it’s true! You have to believe me. There is nothing going on between me and Jeremiah, you know that.”
“What was ‘see you around, baby’ about?”
“Guy talk—loser talk. You know Jeremiah, he’s always tried to have his way with girls.” Annie stiffened. When Candi appeared to realize her mistake, she cried, “Please, Annie, let’s not talk about this here.” Candi grasped Annie’s elbow but she yanked free. Annie didn’t want to go anywhere with her at the moment. “Annie, stop. C’mon, this isn’t like you.”
“This isn’t like you, either,” Annie derided.
“We need to talk about this,” Candi said firmly. “In the lounge.”
The women glared at one another.
“We need to talk,” Candi pleaded.
Reluctantly, Annie followed her friend through the salon, past the hushed glances and into the privacy of the employee lounge. A sole table was littered with cookie packaging, its gray Formica top covered in black crumbs. Four empty chairs sat at haphazard angles around it. Suspicion clawed at Annie, but she was willing to hear Candi out. This was her best friend. Maybe there was a good explanation to why Jeremiah was here, calling her “baby” and not out looking for her. Fleeing, in fact, when he found her. “Well?”
Candi eyed the door, as if someone would burst in any minute and intrude on their privacy. “Annie, I swear I don’t know why Jeremiah was here.”
“You said he was here looking for me.”
“He was—but we never made it that far. He was only here for two minutes before you walked in, seriously.”
“And?”
“And...” Candi dropped to a seat and buried her face in her hands. “Oh, Annie.”
Fear clambered through her. “Oh, Annie what?” she asked, dreading what came next.
Candi lifted her face, tears catching in her mascara, the black smudging across her cheeks. “Jeremiah and I had a one night stand.”
Annie felt the swift kick to her stomach, clutched at a chair to steady herself. “What?”
Candi nodded, shame oozing like sewage from her eyes. “Before he left—after you two were together. I was drunk, it was one time. I’m so sorry...”
Annie stared at Candi. Limbs liquid nothing, her insides were a vacuum. “I can’t believe it,” she uttered, the breath trapped within her lungs.
“It didn’t mean anything. I wish it never happened.”
“But it did.” Hate trickled into Annie’s heart. “You slept with my boyfriend behind my back.”
“It was one time. It never happened again.”
“And you never told me,” she hammered. “You, Lacy, and how many others?” Disgust roiled through her, infusing her limbs with steel. “You slept with my boyfriend behind my back—you two-timing bitch.”
“Annie!”
“I don’t ever want to talk to you again.”
Candi shot up from her chair. “You don’t mean that!”
Annie glowered, anger turning the hate into a molten mess of loathing. “I’ve never meant anything more in my life.”
Lacy checked out of the motel and returned to the diner. Aunt Frannie was having a set of keys to the house made, as well as packing up Lacy’s favorite food for dinner. Didn’t want her to starve, she claimed, explaining there wouldn’t be much in the way of food at her house. Which made sense considering her aunt spent all her time at the diner. Thoughts of a home-cooked meal simmered in Lacy’s mind. It may be diner food, but Aunt Frannie’s recipes were second to none and she an amazing cook, personally supervising the process.
Lacy loved Aunt Frannie. She was generous, fun, and glad to see her. Unlike Annie. Her sister had been downright mean to her this morning and all she’d done was stop by and say hello.
Why don’t you go back to Atlanta where you belong?
It the meanest thing anyone had ever said to her, and coming from her own flesh and blood made it all the meaner. As Lacy entered the diner, bells announced her arrival. Hovering by the hostess stand, she inha
led the scent of greasy cheeseburgers mixed with fried chicken, the sweet aroma of baking biscuits mingling in between. She closed her eyes and expelled a sigh.
The smell was heavenly.
Opening her eyes, she took in the interior. God, but she had missed this place. The red and white curtains were still cut halfway across the front windows, the black and white checkered floors were spotless. Red booths, round counter stools—it was as if she hadn’t missed a single day, the picture of her youth snapped in time, frozen for eternity. Back in high school she’d come by after class for French fries and root beer floats, eggs and biscuits every Sunday after church. Her daddy’s favorite had been the chicken fried steak and gravy, with a side of fried okra and collards, while her momma preferred the chicken and dumplings.
Lacy languished in the memories. She loved it all. Fried chicken, fried okra, plump, gooey dumplings and warm flaky biscuits. She breathed in the scent, reminiscing purely by her senses. Her mood dipped. She should have stayed in Tennessee. Life would have been easier here. Simpler, more pleasant. People here were honest. The air was fresh, the rivers and streams were clean and clear. But she was itchy back in the day and needed a change in scenery. Or thought she did. Catching a glimpse of a familiar face at the bar counter, Lacy caught her breath. Was that Loretta?
Lacy hurried over. Nearing the blonde seated at the food counter, she realized she’d been right. Surprise and delight streamed through her. “Hey, Loretta!”
Loretta turned and beamed, her glossed red lips setting off her perfectly white teeth. Her eyes were a blend of blue and green, favoring one or the other depending on the shade of clothes she wore. Today’s cobalt-colored shirt made them the bluest of blues. “Hey, Lacy-lou. Fancy meeting you here!” Loretta hugged her friend. “I was wondering if I’d see you around town.”
“You’ve come to the right place,” Lacy returned proudly. “This here’s my Aunt Frannie’s diner.”
Loretta’s eyes widened. “You don’t say?”
“I do.” Lacy slid onto the red-cushioned stool next to her friend and asked, “Have you eaten, yet?”
Ladd Fortune Page 5