Dirty South (A Blue Collar Bad Boy Romance) (13 page)

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Mrs. Hunt was the one to show Boone into the den when he
arrived tonight to see my dad, but now I can hear my dad ringing his bell again,
and I guess she must be busy. I head downstairs and down the hall.

"Oh, hey, Boone," I say as I push open the door.
He's had time to shower since earlier today, and is now wearing khakis and a
pale blue polo.

"Hey, Callie. Good to see you again," he replies
from a chair next to my dad's bed.

"Stop chewing your nails," my dad snaps. I lower
my hand. I hadn't even realized I'd been doing it. "Disgusting
habit," he grumbles. I take a deep breath, feeling stung. I know he's been
in a worse mood because he's been cooped up in here, but sometimes it's hard to
take.

"Did y'all need something?" I ask.

"Water," my dad replies. "Boone?"

"Water's fine for me, too, thanks," he says. I nod
and head back into the kitchen and grab two water glasses and take them back
into the den. The TV is on when I get back, and Boone and my dad are staring at
it as I set down their glasses.

"See? They're saying it could make landfall just south
of Savannah," Boone says.

"There hasn't been a hurricane here since 1979,"
my dad replies. "We can't push the opening." I turn my attention to
the weather report, and the swirling mass of clouds moving north toward the
coast that the reporter is gesturing to.

"Well,
if
we push it back," Boone argues
patiently, "then it would also be safer for you to make an
appearance."

"The two of you need to stop treating me like a
child," my father says, gesturing to Boone and me. "It's my company,
and we're having the gala on Saturday as planned and I will be there to cut the
ribbon."

"Dad, maybe—" I try, but he cuts me off.

"Grace, please show Boone out. I need to get some
rest." With a glance to me, Boone stands.

"Alright, Mason," he says. "Glad to see
you're doing better." I hold the door open for him, and then close it
behind us before I walk with him down to the front door. With my dad safely
ensconced in the den, I simply walk out the front door with him and cross the
street into Forsyth Square like we planned earlier.

"Doesn't the air feel different to you?" Boone
asks, tilting his face up and turning his nose this way and that.
"Thicker, somehow."

"That's how it always is in the summertime here,"
I reply with a shrug. He reaches forward to take my hand, and I pull away.
"Somebody could see us."

"Mm," Boone murmurs, his eyes glinting in the
lamplight. "Is that what you've been worried about?"

"What do you mean?" I ask, though I already have
an idea.

"You've been distant lately. At first I thought you
just needed to spend more time with your father, but I don't know."

"Well, he's really sick. He almost died."

"I know that. Do you blame yourself?"

I rub my face with my hands, feeling exhausted. "I
don't know."

"Do you blame me?"

"Can we just drop it?" I snap.

Boone narrows his eyes, but his tone is calm when he speaks.
"If that's what you want."

"Why are you even seeing me?" I burst out. As the
words leave my lips, I wish I could take them back, even as I recognize I've
wanted to know the answer for a long time. Long before Virginia questioned
Boone's intentions with me.

"Callie... are you seriously asking me that?"

I raise my chin defiantly. "Yes."

"Because you're smart. And exciting. And kind. And you
always surprise me. And you ride a horse like it's an extension of your body. And
you're my equal, but you're also better than me, too, somehow. And I could go
on, but first I want to know why it's suddenly so important for you to
know."

I pause, feeling adrift. I heard him say all those nice
things, but I felt like he was talking about someone else. I couldn't actually
digest anything that he said.

"I just... I need some time..." I stammer.

"Callie, what are you saying?" he asks, stepping
toward me and sounding alarmed.

"It's just all been too much lately. I can't even think
anymore," I gasp, stepping back.

"Are you breaking up with me?"

"I just need...I need..." I struggle for words. I
don't know what I need, is the truth. Maybe I just need something to control so
I don't completely lose it. "I just need a little break."

"A break."

"Yes. I need to be able to see things clearly."

"A break," he says again, and my heart lurches,
but I've already come too far. His face hardens. "Alright."

"I'll just... I'll call you, okay?" I say, backing
away toward the house. He doesn't reply, and before I know it, I've turned
around and am walking back up the steps and closing the door behind me.

I hurry up to my bedroom and slam the door shut. I can hear
the sound of my dad's bell ringing but I ignore it. I kick off my shoes and lay
on my bed and stare up at my ceiling.

I feel calm for the first time in a long time, but also a
curious nothingness. It's like my heart felt too much, so I just cut it out and
threw it aside. If I think of Boone, my heart starts to feel again, so I'll
have to be very careful not to think of him at all.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

I sit in the basement with a blanket pulled up over me as I
watch a
Real Housewives
rerun. I hear the door at the top of the steps
open and don't move.

"Callie?" I hear Mrs. Hunt call. "Your friend
Lynn is—oh, here she comes."

There's a flurry of footsteps on the stairs and Lynn crosses
in front of the TV, her hands on her hips. "Jeez, it's worse than I
thought," she says, looking down at me.

"What is?" I ask, feeling confused by her sudden
appearance.

"You. I would've been mad that you haven't answered any
of my messages for the last week, but lucky for you, I'm very understanding and
know there have been some extenuating circumstances. Mrs. Hunt says you haven't
been taking care of yourself."

"I'm just busy looking after my dad," I reply.
Lynn sits down on the couch next to me.

"You have a full-time housekeeper," she points
out, not unkindly.

"It's not just you. I haven't been talking to
anyone."

"Including Boone?" she asks, raising her eyebrows.
I nod. "I ran into him and I thought he looked like shit."

"He does?" I ask softly. "I think I might
have really fucked up, Lynn," I say, squeezing my eyes shut as if that
will make my problems go away.

"Did you break up with him?"

"I don't know what I did. I just felt so overwhelmed,
and then I saw Virginia, and my dad told me he's not giving the business to
Boone, and it's never made sense that he's interested in me, and it just seemed
like one less thing I could worry about. But it's just worse now."

"Wait, what about Virginia? You're going too
fast."

"You can't tell anyone this, okay?" I ask. She
nods. "My dad told me that he's not handing over the business to Boone.
I'd always assumed that when he retired, or... you know, that Boone would take
over."

"Why doesn't he want Boone to be in charge? I thought
he's been great for the company."

"He has been, but my dad is so full of himself that he
can't really see it. Plus, I think he's worried about Boone not being the right
fit for the company. You know, because of Boone's family stuff and everything.
He says he's not 'CEO material'."

Lynn sighs and rests her head on the back of the couch.
"I love this town, but sometimes I really hate it, too."

"I know what you mean."

"So does Boone know?" Lynn asks.

"Well, I don't think so, but what if he does? What if
that's why he's interested in me?"

Lynn pauses for a moment, then leans in. "Honestly,
Callie, I think that's fucking bonkers."

"What?"

"That. Is. Fucking. Bonkers. Did Virginia put this into
your head? Are you trying to suggest to me that Boone secretly knew who you
were the whole time and had some sort of grand scheme to marry you so that
eventually he'd inherit the company?"

"I don't think it's that crazy!" I protest, though
I am starting to doubt myself. "I mean, the business is worth hundreds of
millions of dollars
.
"

"Callie, it says far more about you than it does about
him that you're willing to believe something like that. I mean, is it so hard
for you to believe that he loves you?"

"He doesn't—"

"And what's more, you love him!" she practically
crows.

"I never said that!"

"Why did you even move back here then?" she
challenges me.

"Because I got a job here!" I reply furiously.

"Oh, yeah? Is this the only city with graphic design
companies? Did you apply anywhere else?"

"Well, no, but, well, the thing is, I wanted to be able
to—" I stutter.

"—To be able to see the guy you've been obsessed with
ever since you were a teenager," Lynn finishes for me.

I widen my eyes and sit back. "No, no. That's not
right. I didn't move back here for Boone... did I?"

"Yup. You sure did," Lynn says.

"Oh my god," I murmur, covering my face with my
hands. "That is so crazy of me."

"No, what's crazy is how you're fucking it all up
now."

"Even if I am fucking it up and—"

"Which you definitely are."

I shoot her a death glare but keep going. "Even
if
I
am, and I wanted to get back together, I don't even know if he'd have me. I
basically broke things off without any explanation."

"Well, you can explain tomorrow."

"What, you mean call him?"

"No, you'll see him at the gala."

"What gala?"

She looks at me like I've lost my mind. "The River
Street opening gala. It's tomorrow night."

"No... What day is today?"

"Friday. Haven't you been going to work?"

"Yeah, but they don't care what I do anymore now that
they know my last name. Are you sure it's Friday?"

"Yes! Now stop feeling sorry for yourself and get up!
No offense, but you have some major cleaning up to do if you think you're going
to win Boone back."

"Do I look that bad?"

"Honestly... you don't look great. Luckily for you, I'm
a lipstick lesbian. Come on, we're going to get mani-pedis. Do you have a dress
yet?"

"Oh, God, a dress," I moan.

"Are you kidding me?" Lynn sighs. "Alright,
mani-pedis will have to wait until tomorrow. You're coming over to my place
right now."

Chapter Thirty

I glance out the window next to the front door at the grey,
threatening sky. If my father weren't throwing the social event of the year
tonight, I'd be worried that people would stay home under the threat of an
oncoming hurricane, but it seems nothing can stop Savannah from partying.

I glance down at my dress again, making sure my breasts are
still in place. I almost started laughing when Lynn showed me the dress because
it is so unlike her fashion sense, which runs more toward sweet Americana than
this dress, which is strapless, cranberry-colored satin, and low-cut. She
explained it was from a party the year before, and her mother had bought it for
her in an effort to get her to dress more sexily. Lynn, of course, refused to
wear it, and it sat in her closet in a garment bag until now. It fits pretty
well, except around my breasts, which feel like they are constantly ready to
jump out.

I hear my dad walking slowly toward the foyer from the den.
I brought him his tuxedo earlier, at which point he promised not to overdo it
tonight. He always loves to be the center of attention, so I'll believe it when
I see it.

He appears at the end of the hallway and pauses. He looks
good in the tux. He's lost some weight since his heart attack, so it actually
fits him now, though I think he still looks a little pale. He looks at me
askance, frowning.

"You... you look lovely, Grace," he finally says.
"Very grown-up."

"Thanks, Dad. Lynn Woodall loaned it to me. You ready
to go? The car's waiting out front."

My father nods, and holds out his arm when he reaches me.
I'm not sure whether he's being traditional or if he wants me to help him down
the steps out front, but either way, I take his arm.

In the town car, we're both quiet. My father seems tired
already, and I'm nervous about seeing Boone tonight. Is he going to ignore me?
Make his anger with me clear? I raise my hand to my lips to chew my nails
before I remember the manicure I got today.

We pull up to 100 River Street. The lights are glowing in
the grey twilight, giving it a ghostly feel even though the building is
brand-new. My father and I are on the early side, as he wants to be there to
greet people and cut the ribbon before the gala begins. I look around,
wondering if Boone is already here.

I spot him speaking to a woman with an earpiece in her ear.
Of course he beat us here. He works harder than anyone I've ever met, and yet
he still looks immaculate. My stomach jumps as he turns toward us and I catch a
look at his face. He's combed his hair back to keep it out of his face, but he
still has just a tiny bit of scruff. I think his beard hair must grow at a
record rate. His tux is less traditional than my father's, more slimly cut, and
he wears it with a white pocket square and black tie instead of a bowtie. It
suits him perfectly.

He sees my father and me and gives my father a small nod. He
finishes speaking to the woman and heads over to us without looking in my
direction.

"Good to see you out and about, Mason. You're looking
well," he says, shaking my father's hand. He turns to me and I search his
eyes while trying to communicate some measure of how sorry I am through mine.
"You too, Callie," he adds, shaking my hand. I feel electricity run
through my body as our palms touch, but his eyes have a reserved, distant look
in them. "The press would like a few words with us, Mason, before all the
guests arrive," he says, turning back to my father.

They head over to a line of reporters, and I stand awkwardly
back, watching them speak together, and my father clap Boone jovially on the
shoulder. I'm clearly not needed here, and the air is so humid that it feels
like a fine mist is settling on my skin, so I decide to step around the ribbon
and head inside.

The lobby of the building is covered in clean, white marble.
A band is set up along the back, with tables on the sides and a dance floor in
the middle. In each direction, two long hallways extend to the retail spaces,
which are open and brightly lit, so that the gala attendees can see all the new
shops.

One of the caterers gives me a glass of champagne, and I
stand at a cocktail table in the front corner as night falls and the guests
begin to arrive. The cameras from the press line flash and I watch as everyone tries
to pose with Boone and my father, the men of the hour. A crowd forms in front
of the ribbon, and after a short speech that I can see but not hear, my father
cuts the ribbon with a pair of giant ceremonial scissors. The crowd streams
inside, and fills the space so quickly that no one has time to realize that
I've been standing in here alone.

I watch Boone pass me, surrounded by a small posse of
beautiful young women, and frown. I was worried about having the chance to talk
to him by ourselves tonight, but maybe I should have been worried about far
more. Like the possibility that he's already moved on. What if he's already
sleeping with other women? Could I really blame him?

I do a double take as I spot a familiar face in the midst of
my fog of anxiety. "Sheila!" I call out.

She turns and smiles with relief as she sees me. "Hey,
Callie, you look gorgeous," she says, kissing me on the cheek.

"I love your suit!" I comment, admiring her black
satin suit, with its cigarette pants to show off her high heels.

"Is it too... obvious? I hate wearing dresses, but I'm
not here in an official girlfriend capacity."

"Oh, who cares if it is. You look fabulous," I
reply, taking her arm and leading her over to my father's table. "You sit
with us, that way no one can say you don't belong."

"Thanks, you're a lifesaver," she says, squeezing
my hand as we sit down next to each other. My father's eyes flicker over in our
direction, but he doesn't say anything. A four course dinner is soon served,
and I try my best to focus on Sheila and the other people at our table, my
father's vice presidents and their significant others. Boone commands a
separate table just next to us, and he seems to have attracted the younger,
more fun crowd. I can't help but look in his direction with every burst of
laughter that comes from their table, even though I know that looking at him
isn't doing me any good and is just leaving me with a crick in my neck.

After dessert is served, a woman's voice gets on the
speaker. "Ladies and gentlemen, I'll hope you'll get out of your seats and
onto the dance floor for this next one," she says, and I groan as I
recognize the singer from that date I went on with Vernon but that ended in
Boone's bed. She had a gorgeous voice, but I don't need to be dragged into the
past just now. I glance over at Boone, but he's staring at her in a way that
makes me wonder if she's my competition, too.

I look around the room as couples stand up and take to the
dance floor. I catch Lynn's eye and she smiles at me, but then I notice Vernon
staring back at me from the same table, and I blush and look away. I don't know
if escaping my past is an attainable goal for tonight. A laughing jumble of
bodies passes me, and suddenly Boone and his whole table have hit the dance
floor. I turn back in my chair, resolutely looking down at my plate.

"Lynn looks beautiful tonight, doesn't she?"
Sheila asks me.

"She does," I affirm, and we fall into a sad, but
comfortable silence. The orchestra starts up the first strains of "Moon
River," and we both sigh at the same time. I glance toward the dance
floor, and my heart constricts as I see Boone's arm around Virginia's tiny
waist, and her hand in his. I can't see his face, but she's looking up at him
with a glowing, beatific smile.

"You want to dance?" I ask, nudging her arm.

"Seriously?"

"We're both sitting here thinking about other people,
and I don't know about you, but I'm about to lose it. I bet it'll make us feel
better."

"But what about—"

"I'm just so tired of caring about what everyone else
thinks, aren't you?" I ask, standing up and holding my hand out to her.