Sweet Talk Me (27 page)

“I
am
handling it. And I’m telling you that they’re not messing around. The network honchos want to fill the slot
now
and get the PR campaign rolling. I can’t take on the entire network, buddy. They’ve got plenty of people lined up to take your slot. Do you want to risk losing it?”

“I’ll think it over. I gotta go. And Dan?”

“Yes?”

“I’ll call
you
.”

“For the love of—”

Harrison hung up again.
Focus on True
. At least for the next few hours. Now was not the time to think about his career. And after he helped True out, he was heading to the construction site to check on that. He made a quick call to Vince to give him a heads-up.

“We’re making tremendous progress already,” Vince said. “We’ve got the footings poured. The concrete columns are up, and brick masons are covering them today. The beams are in. We’ll be framing the floor this afternoon and tomorrow.”

“Great job. Can’t wait to see it.”

In the kitchen, Gage was in his running clothes and making pancakes for everyone. True and Weezie’s mouths were full, and they were already slicing through their stacks to cram in another bite, just in case they disappeared somehow.

Which they might. The dogs were staring at their plates with devoted concentration.

“Want to head over to the house site with me this afternoon?” Harrison poured himself a cup of coffee and peered over Gage’s shoulder.

“I’d be foolish not to,” Gage replied, stiffer than ever, “as I’m investing in it.”

Damn. He was obviously smarting from what had happened between him and Carmela. Either that, or Harrison had made a huge mistake interfering in his brother’s life. “Hey—you don’t have to spend a dime on this project. I’m happy to cover it.”

Gage flipped over five pancakes in the pan. “No, thank you. I made a commitment.”

Yeah, he did. And Harrison felt like shit about it. “All right,” he said carefully. “Maybe when you see it, you’ll get excited.”

Gage didn’t answer. Just walked to the table and laid a stack of pancakes on Harrison’s plate. They looked beautiful: fluffy and steaming. With a nice dollop of butter and a swirl of Aunt Jemima syrup, they were the perfect breakfast.

They went down like cardboard.

Weezie told everyone she had plans for the day and would be back at dinner. Gage drifted off to his room to work on a puzzle.

“What kind of plans, Weezie?” True sat up on the alert.

“The driver who picked up a bushel of tomatoes for that restaurant in Charleston asked me out to lunch.” Weezie giggled. “We have a lot in common.”

“He did?” It was obvious from the level of panic in True’s voice that her sister hadn’t had a dating life up to this point.

Weezie nodded. “No big deal. We’re going to stick around Biscuit Creek. I told him the Starfish was really good. And then we might shop on Main Street.”

True’s mouth hung half open. “I’d like to meet him first.”

Weezie’s brow furrowed. “It’s too late for that.”

“You should have thought of that before you said yes.”

“He’s not an ax murderer.” Weezie picked up her plate and took it to the sink. She turned on the hot water in preparation to do the breakfast dishes. “He’s just a guy. He’s a sophomore at the College of Charleston.”

“Does he have a major yet?” True asked.

“I think it’s psychology.” Weezie was breezy as she squirted some dishwashing liquid into the water.

“Just make sure you have your phone with you,” Harrison said, “in case you need to touch base.”

“But we won’t be here,” True said.

“Gage will.” Harrison tried to sound calm and reasonable.

“I’ll be fine.” Weezie looked over her shoulder at True. “It had to happen someday.”

“What?” True said, distractedly rubbing behind one of the Lab’s ears.

“My dating.” Weezie turned back to the sink. “When a woman blossoms, men take notice. She’s like a flower. That’s what this book on sex says. It was pretty good. I found it at the library.”

True put her hand over her eyes. “Please, don’t say that. Especially not to
him
. What’s his name?”

“Stephen Tyler, like the rock star, but with a
PH
, not a
V
. And he’s very nice. Please don’t Google him.”

“Well, we don’t want Stephen Tyler,” True said with all sorts of reluctance, “to get the idea that you’re ready to be … plucked.”

Harrison had to restrain a chuckle. “I agree with your sister, Weezie. Let this date be a chance for you to evaluate Stephen and not the other way around. Let him do the work, okay? You just enjoy the compliment of being noticed.”

Weezie wiped down her plate with gusto. “Good idea, Harrison. You’d make a great brother. I wish—”

Harrison sent her The Look. The don’t-forget-what-we-talked-about look.

Weezie shut her mouth just as True stood, almost knocking her chair over, and brought her plate to the sink. “I know you’ll be careful,” True said. “Don’t bring him in the house. And if he acts fresh in the car or starts driving you out of town—”

“He’s not going to do that,” Weezie said.

“Slap him,” True went on doggedly, “and get the hell out of the car. I don’t care if you have to stop, drop, and roll. Just—”

“True,” Harrison said. “It’s time to go.”

She sighed, gave Weezie a big hug, and she and Harrison walked out the front door.

The woman needed this expedition. Boy, did she ever.

A few minutes later, they’d carried their paddleboards out to the dock to set them in the creek. Harrison wished he’d never eaten breakfast at all. It was like he had a rock in his stomach. This house issue was putting a barrier up between him and Gage. Maybe he should have stayed out of it. But that trailer … Gage had been in a definite rut, just as True had said the first night they arrived at Maybank Hall. And what were brothers for but to get you out of one?

“Don’t worry about Gage,” True said. “He’ll come around.”

As usual, she read him well. “I hope so.”

“If he works things out with Carmela, she’ll be a really good influence on him.”

“Let’s hope he does.” Harrison slid her board in. “And don’t you worry so much about Weezie. She’s a smart girl.”

“I know,” True said weakly.

She lowered herself onto it in a crouching pose, and as he handed her a paddle, he couldn’t help noticing that her thighs were sleek and toned.

“Thanks.” She stood and wobbled a few seconds before gaining her balance. The water lapped at the edge of the board, but she was in control. Some of the strain left her face. “Wow. This is cool. It feels pretty stable.” She was wearing Sperrys, some cute nylon hiking shorts, and a clingy little tank top. She looked hot without even trying.

“It should,” he said. “It’s three feet across and ten feet long. It can hold over three hundred pounds, and you’re light as a feather.” He took out his phone. “I gotta get a picture of this. But you have to smile.”

She faked it at first until he said, “Come on! Don’t be an overprotective sister! Now smile for real, or I’ll knock you in the water.”

“You wouldn’t!”

“Yes, I would.”

She laughed at that. “You’re crazy.”

“I know.”

She smiled at him broadly, and his heart zinged around in his chest like a drunken dragonfly. She looked like the old True. Miss Adventurer. He
knew
this outing was going to be good for her.

He put his phone in a ziplook bag and stuck it in his shorts pocket. “All righty. We don’t have long to go. The tide’s slowing down, but it’s taking us in the right direction.”

She put her paddle in the water and moved slowly away from the dock. Harrison got on his board without a problem and followed. They floated down a small inlet that they’d follow out between borders of marsh grass on either side to the big water.

After a full minute of navigating their boards, she called back to him, “This is fun!”

“Isn’t it?” he yelled up to her. He was glad she was taking the lead.

It was a miracle world, this place. Harrison soaked up the peace. The wind skittering across the top of the water. And there was an egret, poised on one leg, oblivious to their presence.

When they entered the main estuary that was Biscuit Creek, the wind picked up. The water wasn’t smooth as glass anymore. It wore little ripples on its surface, like hammered silver.

True’s stance got a little stiffer.

“You okay?” Harrison asked her.

“Fine,” she said. “Just adjusting a bit.”

He had to, as well.

But the paddleboards were an ideal mode of transportation. Neither he nor True had any problems controlling them. She relaxed her shoulders, looked back at him a few times, and commented on the beauty of the water. The sun. She wondered if they’d see dolphins. Harrison tried not to stare at her butt and to look where he was going—although he could have paddled with his eyes closed, and he’d still have floated down the middle of the creek toward Cornelius’s house.

“I feel like singing,” he said.

True laughed. “Go ahead.”

So he sang “Here Comes the Sun.” He and True both loved the Beatles. She even joined in on the chorus.

Good Lord above, this was a perfect morning. He wished he could trap it and keep it forever.

Ten minutes later, they were at Cornelius’s rickety old dock. Landing there was a lesson in humility. First, True tried, and nearly toppled off her board. She shrieked, but then she laughed and he joined in. There was no real danger if either one of them landed in the water. Even so, if someone had to suffer the indignity of falling of the board, he’d rather it was him.

She clambered onto the dock—damn those short shorts of hers!—and held her paddleboard still so Harrison could come in. He had no problem until his board bumped a piling, and then he almost fell off the back.

“Noooo!” True cried.

But he saved himself—walking across stages for ten years had given him something of a cat’s balance—and climbed up onto the silver-gray planks alongside her. He couldn’t help liking that she yelled like a banshee on his behalf.

“I know it’s no big deal if we land in the water,” she said, almost apologetically. “But it still makes me scream when it’s about to happen.”

He knew something else that would make her scream, too, but a gentleman tried not to entertain those thoughts when the woman in question was smiling at him like Gidget in that old-timey surfer movie.

They got their boards up on the dock and went in search of Cornelius. No doubt he’d heard True yelling and should appear any second. His crazy little shack looked almost the same as it had ten years ago—it was tilting maybe ten degrees farther to the east, but it was upright.

Sure enough, a grizzled old black man appeared at the door.

“What the
hey
?” he called when he saw Harrison. “What you doin’ back? I thought you was stayin’ in Hollywood! Or Nashville! Not hangin’ out here with the little people.”

Harrison let out a belly laugh. When he and Cornelius met in the middle of his front yard, he slung his arm around the old man and pulled him into a tight embrace. “Good to see you, brother.”

“You, too.” Cornelius gave him a big slap on the back, testament to the fact that he was still in good shape. “Who’s this pretty girl you got wid you?”

Harrison made the introductions.

“Oh, yes,” Cornelius said, “I knew your daddy well. He was a good man. A very good man.”

True’s face lit up. “Thank you.”

Cornelius beamed at her and gave her a hug. “No way you gettin’ outta here without that.”

When he released her, she smiled broadly. “I’m so glad to meet you.”

“
Yeah.
” Cornelius clapped his hands as if he was preaching the gospel, which he often did at a tiny church up the road. He looked Harrison up and down with those bright eyes of his. “What’s this about? Purely social? Or you got a gig coming up nearby you needin’ a fiddle player for?”

“Actually, it’s my wedding,” True jumped in.

Cornelius’s eyes widened. “You two?” He pointed his finger back and forth.

“No, sir,” Harrison said in jaunty fashion so he didn’t look like he was pining away for True. Which he was, but he wasn’t gonna be a whiner. He’d be nice and cheery if it killed him. “She’s marrying Dubose Waring.”

Cornelius crinkled up his face. “A Waring, eh?”

True nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Cornelius didn’t look too happy. “You’d be the first of the Maybanks and Warings to marry, you know that?”

“Yes.” True’s face turned a pale pink. “Are—are you interested in playing at the reception?”

Cornelius scratched the top of his head a few seconds.

Harrison sure as hell hoped he wasn’t going to say no, for True’s sake. She bit her thumb and waited.

“Why not?” Cornelius finally said. He grinned at True, then at Harrison. “If this boy brought you here, there must be something special about this wedding. Who am I to say no?”

True hugged him. “Thank you! Can you bring some fiddle-playing friends with you?”

He nodded. “I’ll be happy to.”

They worked out the details of the arrangement, and then Cornelius invited them to stay for lunch. “I got some catfish Mamie Howard fried up for me this morning. I think she’s after me,” he told True with a delighted grin. “Her and Lizzie Wilson both. Lizzie made me some corn bread. And I got some fresh green beans from the garden.”

“It sounds wonderful,” True said.

“Cornelius, anytime you and a friend want to come to a concert, you know you just have to let me know,” Harrison told him. “I’ll send a limo here to pick you up, the plane ticket will be at the airport, and I’ll put you up in a nice hotel.”

Cornelius winked at him. “Once I decide between Lizzie and Mamie, I’ll let you know. But I don’t know if that’ll ever happen. They spur each other on. And I get all the spoils. Give all that up for one concert from a boy who used to sound like a frog? I dunno about
that
.”

True giggled.

“My voice was changing,” Harrison protested. “I was fifteen.”

Cornelius cackled. “Me and the boys’ll never forget it. Harrison came over and played his new guitar. He was so proud of himself.”