The Bachelor And The Beauty Queen

“I’m Stephen Reyes,” Stephen said cockily. “I don’t need to make reservations.”

Behind him, he heard a chuckle from Kimber and Marvin. He preferred that over the groans he’d got from them when he’d forced them to dress up for tonight’s occasion. Hell, they needed to give him a medal for allowing Marvin to come along.

Philly couldn’t wait to spend time with Lexi. You’d think the woman walked on water. After the way things had happened between yesterday and today, Stephen admitted there was a slight wave of nervousness flittering in the pit of his stomach from the idea of being with her again. He couldn’t wait to see what kind of attire she concocted tonight.

“I’m sorry, but your name is not on the list.”

Stephen tilted his head to the side as he listened to a maître d’ with a thin mustache and slicked-back inky black hair inform him of his nonexistent reservation. He cleared his throat. “I’m Stephen Reyes.”

“I understand,” the tiny man clipped, “but as you see, we’re swamped. Everyone from the four counties is here tonight. Without a reservation, I can only put you on the waiting list. I will get you in within the hour.”

“The hour?” Nate shook his head, “No, the kids need to get into bed.”

Nate patted Stephen on the back before he had the chance to tell the little man what he could do with his hour’s wait. “Guess you’ll taunt Lexi some other time.”

“Lexi Pendergrass?” the little man repeated.

Both men stopped in their tracks. “You know Lexi?” Nate asked.

The maître d’ smiled widely as he nodded his head. “She is here already.”

“She had a reservation?” Stephen heard himself asking as the man ushered the Reyeses through the ivory-covered white fence.

“No, no, no.” He chuckled with a shake of his head. “Ms. Pendergrass needs no reservation.”

The restaurant’s interior seemed spacious, despite all the full tables. The tables scattered across the black-and-white-tiled floor were each crowded and adorned with white candles and crystal vases with two single-stemmed roses. Somewhere in the background, a live pianist played music over the various conversations and clinking of toasting glasses.

“Hi!”

Lexi appeared. She wore a champagne-colored dress made of some sort of body-hugging silk. The halter top gave him a perfect view of the swell of her breasts. Stephen cleared his throat. Hoping to stamp down the desire bubbling within, he yanked the hem of his black suit coat. The red color of her lips made them kissable and, with her long, blondish hair pulled to the side and secured with a white gardenia, his lips itched to press against her neck. Her maple-sugar skin begged for him to stroke it. The gold accents of his tie and thin stripes in his button-down Oxford couldn’t have matched Lexi’s attire more if he’d tried.

“I’m so glad you made it.”

“We’ve got a special seat for the queen,” cooed Lexi’s assistant from before.

After introductions, everyone started to take their seats, with Philly at the helm. A waiter walked in, carrying a tray filled with champagne glasses. Lexi took two and handed one to Stephen. They lingered uncomfortably behind while everyone else got situated. Stephen took a sip, Lexi staring at him. He willed her to read his mind.

This thing between us isn’t over.

She’d returned the look with a coy smile as those red lips pressed against the glass. Something about this woman irked him to no end. “Shall we?” he said, inclining his head toward the elegant table.

“Much obliged.”

Everyone had taken their seats. Philly sat at the head of the table with Kimber and Marvin to her left, followed by Chantal. Across from them sat Andrew and then Nate. The only remaining seats were next to each other, as if purposely designated for Stephen and Lexi. Stephen wasn’t sure why but he took the seat closest to Nate, thus leaving her to his right, all to himself.

“Lexi,” Nate said, leaning forward, “thanks so much for arranging everything.”

“Oh, sure.” Lexi gave his brother a toothy smile and possibly a flirtatious wink. “I figured, since I have this room as a standing offer, it was probably best to let your brother’s reservation go to someone else.”

“You were lucky to get one,” Chantal said in awe. “DuVernay’s is in the center of the four surrounding counties. It’s tradition for everyone to get all gussied up and come here after the fair.”

“Really?” both Stephen and Nate chorused.

“Don’t act so surprised. We’re small-town, Mr. Reyes, not backwoods,” Lexi said.

Chantal cleared her throat and turned the conversation on to something positive. She made a toast to Philly and to Lexi producing another Ultimate Grand Supreme.

Her words made Stephen think about what Lexi brought to the table for Philly. Obviously Philly had the right stuff because she was a beautiful child. She’d surpassed all the other children in the entire pageant tonight. Did the pageant world mean that much to her? She seemed happiest on the stage. After her parents died, Philly went into her own little world. She stopped talking as much, clung to her dolls more, and now here she sat with a crown too big for her head, the life of the party and entertaining everyone.

It was priceless. No amount of money or cool toys from Uncle Stephen brought the same smile Philly sported while seated next to Lexi. She did this.

The music from the other room filtered through to their area. The big fella, Andrew, cooed over Philly’s crown. Nate chatted with Chantal, while Marvin and Kimber were in their own world. Stephen pushed his chair away from the table and stood up. He reached his hand down for Lexi to take. For a moment, he thought she was going to stab him with her salad fork. Her dark eyes flared at him. The table grew quiet.

“Dance with me.”

“I’m good,” she declined politely.

“I didn’t mean to sound as if it was a request,” he said, trying to smile, “I need to speak with you.”

“No,” she said, shaking her head, “I don’t dance.” Of course she danced. Women with her beauty danced. They were the center of attention on the dance floor, seducing men with their moves. Lexi leaned in close; the sweet smell of gardenias teased his nostrils. “As in, I can’t dance. I’m horrible.”

“I don’t plan on judging your skills.”

He enjoyed the way her eyebrows rose in shock. What he liked even better was that she pushed her chair away from the table and took his hand. A spark shocked his fingers when their hands touched. Flicking them apart after the jolt, Stephen glanced around the table to make sure no one noticed. Everyone stared.

“Are we allowed to dance, too?” he heard Kimber ask. Fortunately Nate vetoed the idea.

Stephen pulled Lexi away from the table and hard against his body. Her soft skin reminded him of rose petals, her irritated glare of the thorns. Their shoes clicked against the wooden dance floor. Her body trembled from the stems of her stilettos. “Your legs are shaking.”

“I don’t like to dance.”

“Yet here we are.” The warmth of her body against his made him clear his throat.

“Everyone is staring,” Lexi responded in a clipped tone. She stretched her left arm across his shoulder. He squeezed her hand and placed his right hand against the small of her back. If his pinkie finger slipped an inch downward, he would feel her tailbone.

“Let me guess, you’re not one to make a scene?”

“I’m a Southern lady. We don’t cause scenes.”

Oh, if only all women were that simple. The women he’d dated lived for scenes. There’d been several occasions where he’d had a drink thrown in his face for showing up to an event late due to work or simply forgetting. Women didn’t like the honest truth. Women liked to play games. Lexi was playing one now. She knew he hadn’t wanted her to come along. She knew that he was going to need reservations for dinner tonight, yet she let him stand there and make an ass out of himself at the fair.

“No scenes, huh.” He mused over her statement. “Is that right?”

She tightened the slack in her arms. “Why did you want to dance with me, Mr. Reyes?”

For a moment he’d forgotten, lost in her dark eyes and the color of her hair. “How do you get your hair so blond?”

“I am sure you did not ask me to dance to find out about my hair-care products.”

He’d dated bottled blondes. There were ways of finding out the truth. A lower part of his body wanted to find out, but his brain tried to focus. “You’re right. I thought this would give us a chance to get to know each other better.”

“Oh, yes, we’re going to be best friends.” Lexi rolled her eyes. “By the way, I know all about your type, too, Mr. Reyes. You like to throw your wealth around to intimidate people.” She shook her head.

A lock of her hair fell down her back, brushing against his arm. “You still want to bring up the dress?” he said, casting a glance back at Kimber. “Let’s talk about the dress.”

Lexi’s eyes flashed wide before falling across the table.

“Yeah, I thought not. I am willing to barter with you.”

That got her attention. She looked at him sharply. “Barter how?”

“Do you believe Philly has what it takes?”

She peered around his shoulder to look at the five-year-old. A sweet smile spread across her face. “I haven’t seen a natural like her in ten years.”

A certain sadness twinkled in her eyes, then disappeared. Stephen was here to make a deal with Lexi, not psychoanalyze her. If she was the best, she was what Philly deserved. “So you would be willing to let go of your grudge against me to help Philly?”

“My grudge?” She stared incredulously, and if she became any stiffer she would break in half. Lexi held her face back in shock as if she’d been slapped. “Do you think I would hurt that little girl’s chances to spite you? Quite the ego you have there, Mr. Reyes.”

“Wouldn’t you?”

The music ended and Lexi stopped moving. “I am not an arrogant ass like you.”

“Did you call me an ass?” he asked humorously. Before she could step away, the music started back up and Stephen pulled Lexi back into his arms. “Uh-uh,” he taunted her, “the music hasn’t stopped, and you don’t want to make a scene by leaving me on the dance floor.”

“You’re such a miserable bastard. Must you make everyone else around you the same?”

“Well, I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.” Stephen twirled her around and dipped her backward. “Get used to seeing more of me, Lexi Pendergrass.”

Chapter 4

Sunday morning, the streets of Southwood appeared to come to a halt. Cars filled the parking lots. As they passed along the bread-box churches with steeples, Stephen searched for one long gold Cadillac, finding it parked in front of her store. His dance with the beauty queen had left him unsatisfied.

For the second morning straight, he had woken up in his pullout bed in his office-slash-bedroom, forgetting he was not a preteen boy with uncontrollable, erection-producing dreams. He needed to get over this odd obsession with Lexi. She hadn’t squirmed enough in his arms Friday night, at least not until he suggested she get used to seeing more of him. Now he couldn’t wait to watch her squirm when he walked through the door. As soon as Nate pulled up beside Lexi’s car, Stephen’s blood began to quicken.

Nate cut off the motor, and before the engine had time to cool down, the girls were out of the car and running toward Grits and Glam Gowns, pressing their faces against the window to peer inside. The leather of the driver’s side seat squeaked, and Nate turned toward him, his left arm cocked on the black leather steering wheel.

“I’ve got this under control,” said Nate. “Find something else to do.”

Silence filled the front seat of the car. A church bell went off somewhere in the distance. Stephen recalled Nate’s eagerness to attend the fair a second night in a row. His brother claimed he wanted to chaperone Philly while she sat in the front of the parade car. Perhaps what Nate wanted to do was catch a glimpse of Lexi. How did Stephen know? Because that was his reason for going to the fair, too. “You’re into Lexi?” Stephen hated to ask, fearing the answer. They never competed for a woman.

“What I am into is this small town. Lexi’s had a hard time here.”

“And you know this how?”

Nate tore his eyes from the glare he held with his brother and stared up ahead. “I repeat,” he sighed, “this is a small town.”

“We came from a small town—” Stephen shrugged, gesturing his hand between the two of them “—on an island, secluded from the world.”

“Villa San Juan is not secluded.” Nate tried not to laugh, pressing his lips together and avoiding eye contact.

“Unless you had a boat or caught the ferry,” said Stephen, glad the tension between them had dissipated, “you were stuck if the bridge went out.”

“Look, all I’m saying is Lexi’s been through a lot, and a lot of people around here won’t let her forget her troubles.”

“Explain to me why we want someone troubled in Philly’s life.” Stephen’s mind grasped the nugget of information. He needed something to shake the feel of her silky skin out of his mind or the scent of her sweet body out of his head.

“If you’re going to act like this, go back to Atlanta.”

“I’m here.”

“What about your house in Berkeley Lake?”

“Just because I didn’t sell my place immediately doesn’t mean I’m not committed to the girls. I told you I’ve already found a place to set up shop here.” He inclined his head toward the shop wedged between Grits and Glam Gowns, and the café.

Nate’s gaze followed, then his mouth dropped open with horror. “What did you do?”

“I made an investment in our future, a future for the girls.” Stephen grinned proudly before manually unlocking the passenger’s side door to step outside into the late-morning heat. Already a cloud of humidity surrounded his frame. He loosened the knot of his yellow-and-gray paisley tie. Perhaps wearing a dark suit today was not the best choice. “You cannot honestly tell me you like working out of the house.”

“Is this about Philly sticking the piece of bologna in the DVD player?”

Stephen chuckled. “No, I am not upset with her for trying to hide a lunch you made. How does anyone mess up a bologna sandwich?”

“We’re not talking about my cooking.”

“Why are you acting so surprised? We need the office space.”

Nate scrambled out of his side and stood in front of Stephen, blocking him from stepping onto the curb. “Remember when I said you need to fix whatever you did wrong? We’re not destitute. We don’t need to continue working for a long while. We’re here to raise our nieces.”

Stephen decided to leave the arguing alone. He listened to the bells over the door until they stopped chiming. The traffic downtown seemed motionless. For a minute, he swore he heard the traffic signal changing colors. In a diner across the street, a few people sat in the window, peering disapprovingly at the newcomer. A few dozen sets of eyes peered out from the drugstore across the street.

He hated small towns. The main reason he’d left Villa San Juan was to get away from everyone always being in everybody’s business. As part of the Torres family through his mother, they were all subject to gossip. A major perk to living in Berkeley Lake was that he barely saw his neighbors. In Villa San Juan, you couldn’t turn a corner without hitting a Torres.

Stephen reached for the set of keys, delivered to him yesterday, in the front pocket of his dark gray slacks. Despite the stares, the town truly was picturesque and moved him to the memory of when he first got excited about scouting out locations. He’d been about eighteen at the time and visiting his grandparents in Puerto Rico when he met an ambitious producer by the name of Christopher Kelly. Christopher wanted to impress his TV studio executive mother with hidden vacation spots, and Stephen, knowing all the beautiful hideaways not on the maps, was the right man for the job. After the success of his travel show for Multi Ethnic Television, also known as MET, people sought out Stephen’s services. Using his shoulder, Stephen pushed against the wood frame of the door still bearing the name Divinity Bakery etched into the glass. Mounds of old newspapers nearly tripped him; dust floating through the beams of sunlight triggered a sneezing attack. The first thing he needed to do was start cleaning. The black-and-white tiled floor needed to go. Stephen preferred hardwood floors and office privacy. The only closed area so far was through the double doors leading to what he presumed was the kitchen, if he didn’t count the short hallway to the left of the closed-off kitchen. Though the electricity was out, making it hard to confirm, Stephen bet the two closed doors down the dark hallway were bathrooms marked with the universal symbols.

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