Blame It On Christmas (Southern Secrets Series Book 1)

by Janice Maynard

  “I can’t tell her that,” he said, visibly grinding his jaw.

  “Why not?”

  “Because she would insist I book two tickets right now. The woman is like a bulldog, Mazie. Sick or not sick, she’ll grill you until you cave.”

  “Why don’t you borrow a ring from a friend, then. Or pick out something by yourself. It can be anything. Why does it matter?”

  J.B. didn’t like not getting his own way. His eyes glittered. “I’ve never had to work so hard to buy a woman jewelry.”

  Mazie didn’t want to think about all those women. “Sorry to inconvenience you,” she muttered.

  “My mom has spies all over the city. If I don’t do this the right way, somebody will spill the truth and she’ll be devastated.”

  “And you’ll say it’s my fault.” She stared at him, shocked.

  “Maybe.”

  Mazie saw a million reasons why this was a terrible idea. “She came through the surgery really well. Why don’t you just admit the truth?”

  “You mean I should say that I flat-out lied to her on her death bed? Oh, yeah. That’s an awesome idea.”

  “Well, when you put it like that...” Mazie grimaced. That was the trouble with lies. One thing always led to another. “This is ridiculous, J.B. I know Jean Philippe. Not as well as you, maybe, but I’m pretty sure he’s not going to buy my act as an adoring fiancée.”

  “I thought about that. We’ll just tell him that we’ve kept our relationship under wraps.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe your brother doesn’t approve.”

  “Oh, crap.” She rubbed the center of her forehead where a headache bloomed. “I’m going to have to tell Jonathan and Daddy what we’re doing. If word gets back to them that I’m engaged, and I haven’t told them, they’ll be so hurt.”

  “Can your father keep a secret?”

  “Are you asking me if he’s senile?”

  “Well, he does seem to be slipping.”

  Mazie shook her head slowly. “He’s not as sharp as he was, but he’ll understand this. I’ll just have to remind him not to talk about it at all. That’s the safest bet. Besides, it’s only for a week or so...right? Until your mom is recovering well? Then you and I can have a huge fight and end things.”

  “You don’t have to sound so happy about it,” J.B. groused.

  She moved toward the door and stopped to pat his cheek. “It’s going to be the highlight of my Christmas season.”

  * * *

  If there was one thing Mazie knew about J.B., it was that he never left any detail to chance. That’s why he was such a success in business. That and the fact that he was way smarter than his smiling blue eyes and surfer physique might suggest.

  She stood on the sidewalk outside her shop and argued with him. “I’m taking my own car,” she said. “It’s the only plan that makes sense. That way I can drop by the hospital after we do this jewelry thing, and then head home.”

  “A couple buying an engagement ring doesn’t arrive in multiple vehicles,” he said stubbornly. “You have to commit to the role, Mazie.”

  “We’ll improvise. It will be okay.” She wasn’t going to let him push her around. It was a matter of principle.

  “Fine.”

  J.B. wasn’t happy, but she didn’t care. She was tired, and this pretending was breaking her heart. Didn’t she deserve a man who really wanted her?

  As far as she could tell, J.B. was simply being himself...taking care of problems. His determination to bend her will to his shouldn’t have hurt. She knew who and what he was. But her emotions plummeted.

  Jean Philippe’s shop made All That Glitters look like a thrift store. He was a fixture in Charleston. He sold wedding rings and engagement rings, fabulous necklaces and even the occasional tiara. The fifty-something jeweler knew all there was to know about gem stones and their provenance.

  Clearly, he didn’t offer private appointments to anyone and everyone. He was expecting a big sale.

  The store was closed, of course, since it was after business hours. A uniformed guard, fully armed, unlocked the front door and let them in. Then he relocked the plate-glass entrance and stationed himself beside the exit.

  Jean Philippe was effusive. “Mr. Vaughan, Ms. Tarleton. I am honored that I can serve you in this special way.”

  Mazie’s cheeks heated. “We’ll try to be fast. I wasn’t sure I wanted a ring, but J.B. insisted.”

  The older man raised a scandalized eyebrow. “Of course you need a ring. Oh, I know how you girls think these days. You’re independent. You can buy your own jewelry. You don’t need a man. But trust me, young lady, it means far more coming from the love of your life.”

  When Mazie glanced at J.B., he had an odd look on his face. Maybe he was jittery about the L word. “So how do we start?” she asked.

  Jean Philippe glanced at J.B. “Would you like to select a handful of rings and let your fiancée pick from those, or do I—”

  J.B. shook his head ruefully. “I’ll let her have free rein. I trust her.”

  The other man’s carefully manicured eyebrows shot to his hairline. There were pieces in this store that would bankrupt a lot of men. “Well, I...”

  “Anything she wants, Jean. Anything.”

  It was all Mazie could do not to roll her eyes. Her fiancé was having entirely too much fun at her expense. It would serve him right if she picked out the biggest, gaudiest bauble in the store.

  Unfortunately, she was too squeamish to spend that kind of money for a two-week stint of playacting.

  Without much fanfare, she glanced in the nearest case. “That one’s nice,” she said.

  Jean Philippe pulled out the ring she had indicated, a tiny frown marring his forehead. “A decent stone,” he said grudgingly. “But rather pedestrian. It’s only a single carat.”

  Mazie jumped, startled, when J.B. slid an arm around her waist. He murmured in her ear. “I’m a wealthy man, darlin’. We need something that befits my bride-to-be. Something that’s as beautiful as you are. Don’t hold back.”

  The jeweler nodded eagerly. “Indeed.”

  Oh, good grief.

  She stared at the rows of rings blindly, wishing J.B. didn’t smell so good. Also wishing that he would back up so she could breathe.

  One at a time, she pointed out rings. One at a time, the two men shot them down. Finally, she began to lose patience.

  She took J.B.’s arm. “Perhaps we should come back another day when we have more time. I want to visit your mother.”

  J.B. ignored her, his attention riveted on a nearby case she hadn’t perused.

  “That one,” he said. “Top row on the right.”

  Jean Philippe practically danced in his polished cordovans. “Wonderful eye you have, Mr. Vaughan. That is an exquisite yellow diamond from Brazil. The rich color and dazzling clarity are unmatched by anything I’ve seen in the last ten years. Five and a half carats, cushion cut. The setting is platinum, very simple. Designed to showcase the stone, but if the lady prefers something else, we could always reset.”

  J.B. narrowed his eyes and picked up the loupe. “Let me take a look.”

  As he examined the stone, Mazie freaked inwardly. The ring had to be well over six figures. That was a heck of a lot of money for a play prop.

  She tugged his sleeve. “That one’s too much. Be sensible.”

  J.B. turned to face her, his half smile intimate, toe-curling. “It’s you, Mazie. Rare. Unique. Stunning. The stone picks up the sunshine color in your amber eyes and the gleams of gold in your hair.” Before she could stop him, he took her left hand and slid the ring onto her third finger.

  For a split second, the world stopped. J.B.’s hands holding hers were warm, his grasp strong. The ring nestled in place as if it had been sized for her and her alone.


  She swallowed. “It’s beautiful.” The stone was actually heavy on her hand. Weighty. Serious.

  Everything this engagement was not.

  He frowned, perhaps sensing her unease. “We can go with a traditional diamond if you’d prefer. I realize this color is not the usual bridal choice.”

  Mazie knew J.B. was playing a part. He was pretending to care, pretending to consult her wishes. No matter how much she told herself this fairy-tale moment wasn’t real, the little girl inside her who dreamed of fairy tales and Prince Charming was jumping up and down.

  Her throat was tight. “I love it,” she said huskily.

  J.B. turned to the jeweler, pulling his wallet from his jacket pocket and extracting his platinum credit card.

  “We’ll take it.”

  Twelve

  Mazie found a parking spot at the hospital, turned off the engine and sat for a moment, staring at her newly adorned hand. If alien civilizations actually existed, she could probably pick up communications from other planets on this thing. The ring was huge, stunning.

  Even here, in the semidarkness, it seemed to have a life of its own, much like J.B.’s impromptu engagement for his mother’s benefit.

  Before Mazie and J.B. had left the jewelry store, Mazie had been forced to hover for long embarrassing minutes while the two men conducted the business portion of the transaction. The ring came with a two-page appraisal and a fancy box wrapped in plum satin paper and silver ribbon.

  The fact that the box was empty didn’t seem to bother anyone. It was part of the pomp and circumstance of purchasing a ridiculously expensive piece of jewelry.

  She glanced out the window, suddenly aware—as never before—of the possibility of getting mugged in a parking lot. Because she had insisted on having her own car, she and J.B. had gotten separated on the way to the hospital. He might be close by or on the other side of the building.

  As far as she could tell, no was one lurking in the shadows ready to snatch a ring off her finger. Shaking her head at her own vivid imagination, she got out and locked her car.

  Before she could take more than a few steps, J.B. appeared, loping across the pavement. Clearly, he had found a parking spot more quickly than she had.

  “Did you spend most of the day here?” she asked.

  He folded his arms across his chest. “The part of it that I wasn’t having sex with you, Mazie. You can’t pretend it didn’t happen.”

  “Watch me,” she muttered, taking off for the hospital entrance as if she were being pursued.

  J.B. kept pace with her mad dash, but he didn’t touch her. She told herself she was glad.

  In the elevator, they were surrounded by strangers. On the CCU floor, the other three Vaughans kept their vigil. J.B.’s mother was doing very well. The nurses had had her up walking, and all her stats were good. In another twenty-four to forty-eight hours, she would likely be moved to a regular room.

  Alana motioned for everyone’s attention. “Mama wants to tell us something. But we have to make it quick. They’re bending the rules right and left, but we’re running out of goodwill, I think.”

  The five of them entered the cubicle. The two sisters took one side of the bed, J.B. and his father the other. Mazie hung back near the door.

  “Okay, Mama,” Alana said. “What’s up?”

  Mrs. Vaughan looked at her son. “You four have been here most of the day.” She patted her son’s hand. “J.B., I want you to take your sisters and your dad, and go have a nice restaurant dinner somewhere. Not the hospital cafeteria. Mazie will sit with me while you’re gone.”

  They all turned and looked at Mazie. She felt her face heat. “I’d be happy to do that.”

  Leila grimaced. “But Mazie needs dinner.”

  “I have peanut butter crackers in my purse. I’ll be fine.” She curled her fingers around the ring. Maybe she could slip it off for the moment.

  J.B.’s face had no expression at all. If Mazie had to guess, she’d say he was sifting through his mother’s statement for hidden grenades and wondering if it was safe to leave Mazie behind.

  Mrs. Vaughan waved a hand. “Go. I’m serious.” Her voice was weak, but her color was healthy, and she was clearly in good spirits.

  “Okay, Mama.” J.B. turned to Mazie and kissed her on the cheek. “Make my mother behave.”

  “I’ll do my best.” Having J.B. be so casually affectionate after what had happened between them this morning rattled her composure. What would happen if his careful attentions were rooted in truth? Could she trust him? Would she be glad?

  When the room emptied, Jane Vaughan exhaled and smiled at Mazie. “I love that crew, but when they hover, I want to smack them up the side of the head. I’m not accustomed to being out of control. I don’t much care for it.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I understand.”

  “Pull that chair closer to the bed, Mazie.”

  “You probably should rest until they bring your dinner tray. I have things to read on my iPad.”

  J.B.’s mother shook her head. “This may be our only chance to speak in private. I have to carpe diem,” she said.

  Seize the day? Mazie frowned inwardly. “I’m not sure I understand.”

  “I want to talk about my son, dear girl. And your relationship to him.”

  Mazie froze, sensing danger. Here was a woman who had undergone serious surgery. She couldn’t be upset or shocked or any other emotion that would impede her recovery. “Okay...”

  Jane chuckled. “Don’t look so petrified. I know the engagement is fake. You can relax.”

  Mazie gaped at her. “Why would you say that?”

  “Jackson Beauregard is my firstborn. I know him, and I love him. Ever since that stupid woman coaxed him into marriage and humiliated him, J.B. has closed himself off emotionally. I’ve prayed that he would come to terms with the mistake he made, but J.B. is harder on himself than anyone else. He can’t forgive his own youthful blunder. He swore never to let any other woman get that close to him again. And he’s kept that vow. He has multiple women in his life, but to him they’re as interchangeable as a pair of socks.”

  “But...”

  The older woman grimaced. “He was trying to give me a reason to live. And it was sweet of him, dear boy. But I’m not a fool. Nobody does a one-eighty that fast. If he had been falling in love with you, I would have gotten wind of it.” She grinned. “I have spies all over the city.”

  “That’s what J.B. told me.” Mazie paused, trying to understand. “So you’re saying there’s no reason to continue with the charade?”

  “Oh, no, my dear. Just the opposite. I’m begging you to keep up the pretense in hopes that my sweet boy will see that true love is worth fighting for.”

  * * *

  Mazie’s head was spinning. In the midst of this extraordinary conversation, a nurse had come in to draw blood and check vitals. Close on her heels was an employee with a dinner tray.

  When the medical staff finally wrapped up their assigned tasks and left the room, Mazie uncovered the meal. “Looks like a grilled chicken breast, rice and lemon Jell-O.”

  “Oh, goody.”

  Jane’s dour sarcasm made Mazie laugh. “You need the calories to get better. Which do you want first?”

  “If I eat all that dreadful stuff, you have to agree to my plan.”

  Mazie cut up the chicken, added sweetener and lemon to the tea at Jane’s request, and raised the head of the bed. “I’m feeling a little bit under the gun, Jane. You have to understand, J.B. and I are...” She trailed off.

  How exactly did one define what she and J.B. were to each other? She was letting his masculine charm drag her under his spell all over again, and he was using her as a convenient ploy.

  Jane, true to her word, was working her way through the bland food. “Have you slept together?”

  �
�Ah...” A hot flush rose from Mazie throat to her hairline. This woman had endured major, life-threatening surgery, and yet still had the capacity to do an interrogation that would make a seasoned professional proud. “I’m not comfortable discussing that with you.”

  “Fair enough.” Jane finished the rice. “I’m aware you’ve known each other forever, but how did you come to be on a fancy date last night?”

  Mazie chose and discarded explanations rapidly. “J.B. was wining and dining me because he wants to buy my building. It’s smack in the middle of his big restoration project. I’m the last holdout.”

  “How delicious. I hope you haven’t made it easy for him.”

  Were they talking about business or sex?

  Mazie uncovered the tiny serving of Jell-O and added a plastic spoon. “I’ll have to admit, it made me mad that he thought I would simply give him what he wanted. So I’ve been cranky and obstructive. But he’s offered me another property for my store that is lovely. I’ve decided to let him stew until after Christmas, and then give him what he needs.”

  “Well, I’m glad his business dealings are doing well, but I’m more concerned about his emotional well-being. Please let the engagement stand, Mazie. He already trusts you. That’s a huge step forward.”

  “Why would you say that?” She couldn’t let herself believe the fantasy that J.B. actually cared for her. There would be too far to fall when the truth was revealed.

  “No man enters into a fake engagement unless he is absolutely sure the woman in question will let him off the hook when the charade is over. Clearly, he trusts you not to sue him for breach of promise or something awful like that. And he doesn’t have to worry that you’re after his money, because you have plenty of your own. You’re the perfect woman for him.”

  But she wasn’t.