Southern Charmed Billionaire (25 page)

She actually was right.
 

“Thank you, Ashley, I appreciate your advice, I do. Listen, um. Do you have a business card or anything?”
 

“Certainly do.”
 

I liked her candor and I had a feeling I’d need this reminder.
 

“Listen, um, this may be last minute, but do you maybe want to help me out tonight? I’m bringing my cupcakes and I could use an extra hand for staging while and if I mingle or dance, or whatever.” The last words got out mumbled.
 

“For real?”
 

“Yeah.”
 

“Hell yeah! Seriously hell yeah.”
 

“Okay, I’ll get you on the guest list. I just need you to represent my cupcake line. Who knows, maybe you’ll meet someone special.”
 

And because God knows Claire certainly wasn’t capable of minding her Ps and Qs!
 

Chapter Twenty-Six
 

Kate
 

It was a scene straight out of a movie. (
And when was I ever going to stop making this comparison?)
 

I found a way to make myself laugh, even in midst of the despair nature I found myself conflicted in. It was a strange dance, to be delighted that the elite of the elite in Charleston were happily eating my cupcakes, and to actually be able to say, “Yes, these are from Kate’s Kitchen and I’m Kate.”
 

It was a delight for strangers who weren’t obsessed with social media and the Internet to not have the faintest idea of who I was. What a breath of fresh air!
 

I was briefly liberated in this freeing state. I enjoyed the big band music with its members all dressed in white. With the romantic dreamy keys and the clarinet sassed off melodies, they made sounds that would make even one in the gravest of moods want to dance.
 

The female singer was fantastic. Her voice reminded me of the singers Atticus and Lacey had played and introduced to me. They were the classics, I guess. But even in my delighted observation of this storybook party, my nerves were wrecked. I still hadn’t seen
him
yet.
 

And damn it, even in my anger, I still thought of him the entire time I got ready for this party.
 

“Might I have this dance?” A light touch rested on my shoulder. I was about to object when speaking of the devil appeared right in front of me.
 

I looked down to see a well-manicured hand, but not just any hand: his hand. My body knew that hand, and remembered his magic touch. My body melted, buzzed with electricity and wanted to be held against him once more to feel that connection.
 

People were watching my reaction, so I decided to say yes. He pulled me close to him in firm, possessive manner. But I would not let his body play mind tricks on me.
 

“Women do get weary…wearing that same drabby dress…” A male’s soft croony vocals dressed the scene to a slower tempo. A trumpet decorated the background. The ambience was so romantic, a part of me almost refused to be angry, to be anything but
joyful in this magical happy night filled with music, delectable food, the finest of champagne and drinks for one of the kindest, wisest men on the planet.
 

But damn it, I was a Scorpio and that just was not how we’re wired!
 

“Kate, I’m really sorry about what my sister and Clarissa did. What they said.”
 

He spun me around while he kept his grip firm on my side. He pulled me closer to him, so close my face had to be pressed against his face and I could feel stubble teasing against my flesh. My naughty mind could not help but flash back to that secret elusive room where our bodies crashed into each other and we were not two lovers, but two animals in one hungry need for each other. To the night where the same face was between my legs causing me to see stars, galaxies, and other dimensions.
 

Even in my anger, another emotion won with rivaling intensity—desire. Lust. It wrestled with logic and lost.
 

Smelling his signature scent as it engulfed me, making its claim on me, was sweet.
fucking
. torture.. I cleared my throat, fighting against the struggle. Fighting against the scenes that were seared for eternity in my heart and mind.
 

“Are you now? Because funny, I really couldn’t tell that.” I shrugged my shoulders despite feeling fiery anger inside.
 

His voice penetrated my ear, deep, low, and pleading; he purposely wanted to plead his case while wetting my panties.
 

“I tried to get you to stay. I promise I did. But I had to stay at the country home Sunday night. I couldn’t miss my recording session for my EP that I’m…” He trailed off, then rerouted his words. “I called you a thousand times but you wouldn’t answer. You knew I couldn’t fly over in the ‘copter. It was too dangerous. The roads were barely drivable. I had a session in the studio and Michael drove all the way just for me to get this take in time, and that’s after flying all the way from LA. And I also had to track my guitar takes on Monday so Jackson could pull me a huge favor to edit and mix everything in like twenty hours. But I seriously called you every hour on the hour.”
 

I thought about what he just said and the craziness of it all.
 

I had to stay at the country home. I couldn’t take my copter.
 

I’d never grow accustomed to this world and its ludicrous ways. Well, regardless of the world I did not understand, I did understand music being with my cousin’s band
the last three years. I understood sessions and important producers. And with him thinking Granddaddy was dying, I knew of the importance of tracking it in time.
 

I really did.
 

“And even if I had the time, Granddaddy took our driver to an urgent doctor’s appointment in Charleston yesterday. The rest of the staff had Monday off in honor of Easter weekend.”
 

My stomach tightened thinking about poor Granddaddy Atticus, traveling like that in the icy weathers and snow storm just to invite me to his birthday party. And then my heart melted at the thought.
 

“But as soon as I finished tracking, I did drive the three and a half hours back to Charleston on those icy roads just to see you, to check on you. But you weren’t home. In fact, you never came home.”
 

He pulled me closer, as if that were even possible. But now I couldn’t see his face as our bodies melted into each other. His hand slid down my waist just a little lower than safe levels. He was melting my ice. The heat of his hands made my body feel things no on else had ever made me feel before.
 

“Where were you?”
 

“I was out. You know the whole world thinks I’m an escort. My dream book was published like it was a child’s joke. Yeah, you better believe I went out. And we did come home eventually.”
 

My anger escalated a bit and I sounded bitchy and snappy, but I didn’t care.
 

“We?”
 

I shrugged my shoulders hoping to make him jealous of someone else.
 

“Thank you for coming, in spite of everything. Granddaddy is really fond of you.”
 

“Just your grandfather?”
 

He spun me around and allowed a small fraction of a distance between us to allow me to look into his eyes. God, those piercing eyes made me weak in my knees.
 

“Look, Kate. There’s a lot I want to say to you. I just can’t at this moment right now.”
 

“Why? Really? Because two nights ago standing there exposed like that in the kitchen, when you had plenty of time to say something, anything! You sure seemed like
you were as quiet as a church mouse.”
 

“Why are you so mad? Tell me? What is it really?”
 

“What is it really? Everything. I don’t belong here. I don’t know how to act right. I don’t have the right manners, apparently. Those are not taught in one month; those are inbred.” I threw out some examples, counting them off with my fingers. “I slouch. I interrupt people. I’m too loud. My voice doesn’t sound like honey.”
 

“It’s not a good idea,” I continued. “And then, you made me feel things I’ve never felt before. How’s that for honesty? We’re not a good idea.” My head shook no fast.
 

“Why don’t you let me be the judge of what is right for me.”
 

“Well, then. What is right for you? Aside from how you appear to the press. The entire world. I’m just like an accessory to you,” I retorted. “I thought I could handle it, handle lying. But I look at your grandfather, and I really like him. I just can’t lie anymore.”
 

In my intensity I had failed to notice the music had stopped and there was a bit of reprieve from the magic.
 

“Look, hold that thought. Please. I have a toast to make now. Don’t leave this spot. Please.”
 

“Hi,” the bitch’s voice ricocheted off the grand ballroom like nails on a chalkboard. “It’s me, Granddaddy’s
favorite
granddaughter.”
 

It was the bitch of all bitches, Brittany.
 

There were a few chuckles sounding in the room. I’m sure those chuckles were saying, “Yeah right, as if!”
 

“But I really am, y’all. Anyway, I love my Granddaddy dearly, and I know he loves all of you. Here is to love. Here is to Granddaddy.” Her words slurred together and Atticus quickly stepped on the stage as if to save her from embarrassing herself and Granddaddy.
 

“Grandfather is eighty. He taught me to play the piano and guitar. Tonight in his honor I release a personal record, one that I hope he’ll cherish now until Heaven.”
 

My stomach turned at the cruel joke but important lesson poor ole Atticus was pulling on his spoiled grandkids.
 

The acoustic picking was beautiful and reminded me of a fresh spring day;
hopeful, promising. I waited with great interest after all. I’d never heard him perform before.
 

Scars from hearts
 

Torn apart
 

The Brooklyn Bridge
 

Just a kid
 

Now a wom’n
 

Livin’ in the midst
 

Of runnin’ from the pain
 

Of yesterday
 

To tomorrow’s hope
 

Ohhhhh
 

Penny’s for noodles
 

Heat it just right
 

I’ll make it better
 

Taste beef alright
 

Scars that tore
 

She went out the door
 

Into another’s arms
 

Safe, secure
 

She’ll fight through
 

It’s what you do
 

Around the corner
 

Her name in lines
 

Another one please
 

Her talent surprise
 

Just a woman, yet still a kid
 

Her bank was rid
 

Dreams crumble down again
 

Away she fled
 

To warmer flights
 

To warm her shoulder
 

From the frigid nights
 

Cause the second chapter
 

Of your life
 

But when you’re mine
 

Together we’ll fly
 

No deny’n
 

Healed wounded souls
 

Battle scars
 

To dress the night
 

Battle wounds
 

To mend our lives
 

Kissing you
 

Makes it better
 

Loving you
 

Makes me tender
 

Loving you makes me remember
 

Love lost from a boy
 

Long ago
 

Skeleton key
 

Lock the door
 

Now there’s you
 

Cause of you
 

My Brooklyn star
 

Scars you bore
 

Scars we bore
 

Kiss the night
 

Fly for life
 

Kiss the night
 

Fly for life
 

Scars that tie us together
 

The scars that tie us together
 

“Fuck. What the fuck. Seriously?” I hissed. My anger and venom surged to the surface, back and ready to play.
 

My jaw dropped and I wanted to be anywhere but here. But it was so crowded I searched for an exit. Where was the exit?
 

But my things? My cupcake stands etc. I’d just have to have Ashley bring it to my house. I would text or call her. I had her number now.
 

I couldn’t be here exposed like this.
 

I had to get out of here.
 

Chapter Twenty-Seven
 

Atticus
 

I did it.
 

I performed in front of those who’ve known me since a baby.
 

I performed the greatest song I’d ever written and sung with more heart than my entire life.