Love, Alabama (Alabama Series Book 2) Page 9

  She disentangled her wrist slowly, fighting the urge to snatch it away like she’d been burned. “Um, no. That can’t happen, as I told you earlier. I’m not in the market.”

  He shrugged and grinned. “Just wanted to make sure.”

  She wiggled her fingers in a playful wave. “See you on the set, Romeo.” Then, she turned and resolutely walked into the house, not allowing herself to glance back.

  Because he had no idea how much she wanted to drag him inside, fling him onto her down comforter, and do all the naughty things. He really did inspire new feelings within her. Deep down, carefully suppressed feelings she’d managed to keep control of for these past years. Why him? Why now?

  It did not bode well. Emma was rather afraid her horny genie was out of the bottle. God help her.

  She remembered then she’d silenced her phone at the hospital. The second she turned it back on it lit up like the Griswold’s yard at Christmas. Texts, voice messages, missed calls and Facebook messages galore. All from her family, of course, wanting to know if everything was alright, if and how they could help, and did she need them to come stay with her? And many demands to call back or text immediately and let them know she was okay.

  So, she dialed her mother first. “Mom? No, no. Everything’s alright. Judith fell and broke her ankle and hit her head at the studio.”

  Her mother, a woman whose nerves were carved from pure granite when it came to stressful situations said, “Candy from the front desk over at the hospital called your sister, Jo Jo. Sounds like a real sad mess. Where’s Judith now?” Her mother asked.

  “She’s out of surgery now, and the doctor says she should make a full recovery in a couple of months.”

  “Months? Lordy be. Was it that bad?” Her mother sounded concerned.

  “Yes, unfortunately it was.”

  “Honey, how are you holding up? I know that must have been mighty upsetting for you.”

  “I’m okay. Matthew showed up right about the time things were headed South, but he helped keep it all from blowing up.” Emma stretched out on her sofa; every muscle ached.

  “Well, I imagine with all three of those girls in the midst, it could’ve turned into a real brouhaha.”

  “Mom, Judith was very badly hurt.”

  “I don’t mean to be unkind, dear, I simply have known those girls their whole lives. You know I wish Judith well in her recovery.” Mom wasn’t a mean-spirited person, so Emma knew her comments weren’t intended to be spiteful, only honest.

  “I know you do; and yes, there was a ton of drama from Jamie, as you might expect, but nothing I couldn’t handle. She was worried about her sister. Please tell everyone I’m okay and I’ll talk to them tomorrow. Thanks, Mom. Love you.” Emma was ready to hit her bed fully dressed at this point.

  “Oh, and Emma?”

  “Yes, Mom?”

  “I hope you’ll invite that young man to the wedding as your guest. Sounds like a good one to have around.”

  No strength left to argue, she said, “I’ll think about it.”

  “Good night, darling—get some rest.” Oh, her mother was a sly one, alright.

  “’Night, Mom.”

  Chapter Eight

  ‡

  The next week flew by with pageant contestants doubling and tripling their private and semi-private lessons. Several festivals and big pageants were coming up, including the junior Miss Alabama and Miss Alabama pageants. So, the official “pageant season” began for Emma. Her busiest time of the year left her little time to do much more than maintain her studio and fall into bed exhausted each night. She did run over to Cammie’s cooking show set early in the mornings on shooting days and do her sister’s makeup and hair. Emma trained one of the girls Cammie had hired to do her touch-ups in between scenes.

  The network had finally hired a clothing stylist/makeup artist/hair stylist from New York to take over the job next week, so it would lessen Emma’s long hours a little once that happened. It seemed no one wanted to make their home in Ministry, Alabama. Hopefully, the girl would understand that in Ministry purple hair, multiple piercings, neck tattoos, and Lord knew what else might travel down from the big city in the name of style wouldn’t quite fit in here. Emma had never heard of one person handling all those roles on a set before, but it seemed whomever they’d found fit the bill. Personally, Emma hoped so.

  Not that she minded making her little sis shine; it was just getting hard to fit everything into her day. Plus, there was that not insignificant issue of fighting her ever-growing attraction to Matthew. The less she saw of him, the better. He seemed to make it his mission to put himself in her path every time they were in the same vicinity.

  “I’m going to miss our mornings together,” Cammie said, as Emma was putting the veil of finishing powder to make her camera-ready.

  Emma grinned. “Me, too. It’s been a fun few weeks. I hope they don’t bring in a hippy freak to style you.”

  Cammie made a face. “I hadn’t thought about that. Maybe I should ask Brent at the station who it is they are planning to send.”

  “I was just kidding. I’m certain that whomever they send, she will be perfectly capable. Or I’ll have to whip her into shape.”

  “You’d be the one to do it, that’s for sure.”

  The announcement came that Cammie was needed on set.

  “Oh, gotta go. Thanks again.”

  “Sure, kiddo.” Emma waved her toward the set.

  “Hey there, can I walk you out?” She’d turned her back, just for a second.

  “How do you do that?” she asked.

  “What?” He was pure innocence.

  “Sneak up on me like that.” She frowned.

  It was better than climbing him, which was what she wanted to do.

  “Have dinner with me.”

  “I can’t.” She began walking toward the foyer with him beside her. “I’ve got a late evening at the studio.”

  “After. I’ll pick up food and meet you at your house. You’ve got to eat.” She made the fatal mistake; she looked him in the eye. Damn it.

  “Soul food?” she asked, almost in a whisper.

  “You got it. See you around nine.”

  “Uh. Okay.” Crap. Now what had she done?

  Then he leaned down and whispered in her ear, “Oh, and this is a date.”

  His breath was hot and traveled down her neck. It made her shiver and it made her burn. How had that happened? Before she could protest, he was headed back toward the set, whistling.

  She hadn’t wanted this, had she? No. Liar. She wanted it all right. She wanted him with every tiny ounce of the stuff that made women want men. The long, long dry spell she’d forced on herself but blamed on Tad’s underlying threats were the problem. She was responsible for her current situation. But what would this mean for her immediate future?

  Without daring another glance backward, she made a very stealthy exit, trying her best not to make a sound or stir any attention toward herself that might garner notice. Her brain was entirely too full of thoughts to make small talk or big talk.

  Emma put her car in gear and headed toward the rehab wing of the hospital where Judith had been moved. Emma picked up a small nosegay of yellow daisies to bring with her. The plan was to stop by and check on the injured woman and then swing by Mom’s house and check on Big Al. Judith’s surgery had gone better than the surgeon had predicted. She’d be wheeling around with the aid of a tiny leg scooter and a cast in a few days. The head injury, once cleaned, had required a couple stitches, but wasn’t a concussion, according to the neurologist, thankfully.

  Of course, Emma was nowhere near off the hook where Judith was concerned. Hopefully, there wouldn’t be a lawsuit. If there was, Emma was well-insured, but in a town like this, Emma would have to tiptoe around, flatter, and for lack of a better term, do some serious ass-kissing to save her business’ reputation and her own. Rumors and gossip were unavoidable, and Emma depended on Judith and her family’s goodwill not to do a
number on her. Emma understood owning a business had its risks—and serving clients like Judith was one of them. When somebody got hurt in your place, you were responsible… period.

  “Hey there.” Emma called as she knocked lightly on the partially opened door. She almost hid her tiny nosegay of daisies when she noticed the room was so filled with the kind of oversized, fresh flower arrangements Emma had only seen at weddings and funerals. She wanted to ask if someone had died, but bit her tongue just in time. That wouldn’t help her case.

  “Oh, hi, Emma.” Judith’s leg was elevated and was held in place by a complicated-looking contraption that was moving it every few seconds as it hummed. Judith did not appear pleased, if her pained expression was any indication.

  “How are you feeling?” Emma asked gently.

  “I’d be a lot better if the stupid doctor didn’t insist on torturing me with this thing out of the dark ages. Can’t they just put a cast on it and let me go home?”

  “It does look like something from the dark ages. When did they say you’d be able to leave?” Emma asked.

  She made a face. “Tomorrow, if I do what they say.” Judith spotted the flowers behind Emma’s back and her expression brightened. “Are those for me?”

  “Oh, yes.” Emma gestured around the room. “Looks like everybody in town’s heard about your fall.”

  “Junior League.” Judith rolled her eyes. “They know I’m in charge of membership and half of them want me to write sorority rec letters for their girls heading to college in the next few years. Suck-ups. I think they all wanted to see who could send the biggest arrangement.”

  Emma laughed behind her hand. “I almost asked who died, but didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”

  Judith burst out laughing. “Maybe somebody died and I can donate these ass-kisser flowers to their funeral.”

  They both laughed. Then, Judith winced. “Ow.”

  “Oh, are you alright?” Emma moved closer, genuinely concerned.

  “The pain meds have been so good that I forgot myself for a minute,” Judith said. “Look, Emma, I know I can be a pain in the butt most of the time. Truth is, everyone expects it. But I’m not going to sue you, so you don’t have to keep coming over to check on me. I fell off my high heels. It’s not the first time, won’t be the last. The attention’s been nice. Most of the time, I have to be bitchy to get anyone to notice me.”

  Emma thought that was terribly sad. “Judith, I don’t know what to say. I hate to see you in pain, and I really am concerned.”

  “Would you have bothered to visit me if this”—she motioned to her foot and then to the bandage on her head—“hadn’t happened at your place?”

  Emma wasn’t a liar, which was what made her hesitate a split second before answering.

  “That’s what I mean. And I appreciate your honesty. Maybe I don’t deserve real friends, only ones that compete with each other to stay in my good graces for what I can give them. Anyway, I don’t blame you, and you won’t be hearing from my attorneys, or my husband. So, rest easy.” Judith gave her a sad smile.

  Emma might sometimes exude a tough, confident exterior, but in so many ways, she felt exactly like Judith had just described herself. “Judith, I’d like for us to be friends, real friends. I know how you feel. My best friends are my sisters because I don’t trust many other women’s motives. What do you say?”

  Judith eyed her suspiciously. “Do you want to be in Junior League or have a daughter that wants to be in a sorority?”

  Emma crossed her heart. “Not me. I wouldn’t be caught dead at a Junior League meeting—no offense. And, I might ask for a recommendation in about twenty years for my as yet unborn daughter. But that’s looking less and less likely.”

  Judith smiled. “Alright, Emma Jean Laroux. We can be real friends. If you don’t tell anyone my secret.”

  “What secret?” Emma asked.

  “That I’m not really as big of a bitch wagon as I pretend, and that I work it for attention and to keep the phonies guessing.”

  “I’ll take it to my grave,” Emma said solemnly.

  “If you have any deep, dark secrets you need to share, I’m a relative Fort Knox. I gossip with the best of them, but never reveal a confidence. I’ll bet you’ve wondered why Sadie and I are such good friends. Well, it’s because she knows the real me. She’s a sweetie, by the way. My sister, too.”

  “I’m glad to know that. I like them both.”

  Judith stuck out her hand as if to shake on a blood oath. Emma took it.

  Just then, as they were shaking hands, Judith’s husband entered. His eyebrows went up, as if he what he witnessed shocked him to the bone.

  “Oh, hey, Jefferson.” Emma forced him to acknowledge her.

  “Hi, Emma. What are you doing here?” His voice was cool and not especially welcoming.

  “Jefferson! How rude. Emma and I have come to an understanding.” She gave him a look. “From now on, Jefferson, you will be courteous to Emma. We are friends. I know she blew you off in high school. Get over it.”

  Emma’s eyes went wide. Jefferson’s face turned bright red and Emma wasn’t sure what would happen next.

  But he recovered nicely. “Well, Judith, you certainly know how to put a fine point on things, don’t you, dear? Must be the fantastic pain meds.” He turned to Emma, extending his hand in friendship. “Please forgive my rudeness, Emma. Judith has no issue letting me know when I’m behaving like a horse’s ass.”

  She shook his hand. “No problem, Jefferson. Please let me know if there’s anything I can do for Judith while she recovers.”

  Judith piped up. “Just stop by the house and have lunch with me. Being confined is going to drive me crazy, which will make me drive everybody else crazy.”

  Jefferson cleared his throat. “Yes, please do, Emma.”

  Emma smiled at both and made her way outside. Well, that went differently than expected, thank heavens.

  *

  Maureen Laroux was a practical woman. At least she’d always been one up until now. Now, she was planning her wedding to the man who’d fathered her oldest child. Not that he’d known it for the first thirty-five years of Maeve’s life. But they’d gotten past that. He’d left Maureen at the altar all those years ago. It hadn’t been his fault or hers. They’d gotten past that, too. Would they survive this wedding?

  “Darlin,’ I don’t give a bald rat’s behind what flavor our cake is, and you know it,” Howard said.

  She smiled at him sweetly. “Yes, but you deprived me of going through this the first time around. So, my love, you will try this cake and give your honest opinion. Please?”

  He kissed her on the forehead and huffed. Typical man. But there wasn’t anything typical about her Howard. Nope, not a thing. He took a bite and nearly choked. “It tastes like grass from the pasture.” He managed to say after he’d spit it out in the trash. “What in God’s name is that flavor, woman?”

  “It has a hint of basil, I think.” She sniffed it. “Oh, my. More than a hint, I’d say. I’ll pass on trying it and take your word for it, dear.”

  “Hon, let’s just get the white one. That’s all we’ll remember when it’s over anyway.”

  She grinned. “White. Got it. You’re dismissed from cake tasting for now. Have you spoken with Maeve this week?”

  He looked down at his feet as if they could tell him the answer.

  “You’ve got to reach out to her.” She laid a hand on his arm. He was so dear.

  “She scares the hell out of me,” he admitted.

  “I know. All of this has been especially hard on her. But I know she’s not holding a grudge. I believe it’s more about her feeling disloyal to the father who raised her.”

  “I’ve missed her whole life.” His eyes were weary.

  “Not her whole life, and not Lucy’s.”

  “You’re right and so wise, as usual. How did I live this many years without you?” He pulled her into his very strong arms.

  “I do
n’t know. But you don’t have to live another day without me. Aren’t you a lucky guy?” She teased.

  “So incredibly lucky.”

  “I’ll be even luckier when we don’t have cakes and flowers to worry about anymore.”

  “Go. Out. I’ll finish up here.” She shooed him toward the door. “And please call Maeve.”

  “Yes’m.”

  Maureen thought about her children. About Cammie and Grey, now happily married after what seemed like a hopelessly miserable past filled with betrayal and lies. Her situation mirrored theirs in a way. Things had changed so much this year. Ben was still the most eligible bachelor in town, or more like the state of Alabama, to be truthful. But he would be okay. His own stubbornness kept him from finding the right girl.

  JoJo was happily married with two adorable children. She was stable and always had been. Maeve was in crisis, but she had her lovely daughter, Lucy and her husband, Junior, to remind her of what was important. The rest of her siblings had circled around her the minute Howard had entered, or reentered, their lives. They had her back.

  Right now, she fretted over Emma. Emma had flown under the radar these past several years. But suddenly Maureen was seeing some changes in her behavior. Changes could mean instability. Emma had always been a little high-strung, but completely reliable in every way. Well, except around the time she’d stepped down from her title as Miss Alabama. They’d all tried to figure out what had happened, but she’d never really given a good answer, only that she couldn’t go through with it. Then, Tad had broken up with her. Maybe he’d broken up with her first and that had been why.

  Maureen carried a mother’s burden of guilt for not spending more time and care to get to the bottom of things, and for taking Emma at her word. Having Emma away at college had in some ways been easier after their father had passed. Maureen had struggled for such a long time after Justin’s drowning and the children had as well.

  As she sat staring out her kitchen window, sipping on a cup of coffee, she decided to get to the bottom of Emma’s big mystery. Not because she was a nosy momma, but because she really believed Emma was stuck. She hadn’t moved forward with her life. Not with the important stuff.