Page 16

Bailey

I’ve never seen so much floral fabric in one place than when I step through the gate to Andi’s aunt’s house. Aunt Camille — her father’s sister, is hosting the bridal shower in the back garden of her aristocratic mansion in the center of the Garden District. I’ve never been to this part of the city, and while the homes are different and surrounded by trees full of Spanish moss, it reminds me a little too much of home.

Instead of the rich, rowdy history of the French Quarter, this area has an air of pompousness. Probably because I can imagine my stepfather in every single house.

Don’t get me wrong — the houses are beautiful. I’ve just come to find I like the messier lifestyle of the Quarter over the prim and proper ways of this part of town.

The theme for the bridal shower is Southern Belles , something Andi had to dress me for. I’m wearing a dress that falls just below my knees, with delicate sleeves and a cinched neckline that shows off just enough cleavage that Andi’s Mawmaw wouldn’t find it tacky. At least, those were Andi’s words, not mine. It’s pretty, in a sweet way, white with baby blue flowers all over it. She also gave me a low pair of heels and a hat in the same blue as the flowers.

Luckily, Lionel is my date to the event, so I don’t feel completely alone in my lack of knowledge of southern etiquette at garden parties.

Walking up the front sidewalk to the house, it’s hard to imagine anyone actually lives here. The house is a light pink with a white border. It’s large enough to fit a dozen of the house in the Quarter inside and the worst part is that it matches the grandeur of every other house on the street.

“They don’t make them like this in California,” I whisper to Lionel as I slip my hand through the crook of his elbow. I must say, Lionel cleans up nice. He’d gone for a light grey suit with a pink handkerchief in the front lapel. He’d forgone his usual durag, showcasing a head devoid of hair and a striking lack of makeup and eyelashes. He almost doesn’t look like the same person. I don’t tell him, but I like the real version of him better.

Lionel chuckles, his eyes darting around him nervously. “Weren’t you supposed to marry some big lawyer?”

“I wouldn’t say he was big ,” I say, rolling my eyes, causing Lionel to laugh. “My stepfather is the important one.”

Lionel whistles through his teeth as a man in a dark suit, dark sunglasses, and absolutely no expression on his face opens the back gate for us to step through.

“I don’t think we’re in the Quarter anymore, Toto,” he murmurs, his eyes following the groups of women milling around the extravagant garden. Every woman is dressed in some variation of the same dress I’m wearing. Every head is covered with a matching hat similar to mine, only larger, like it’s a secret competition to see who has the neck strength to hold up the biggest one. If I didn’t know any better, I would think I had stepped into the Queen of England’s private garden party.

“Forgive me, but I would like to bolt.” I turn to leave, but Lionel tightens his arm, not allowing me to slip free.

“You ain’t leaving me with all these women. They will eat me alive,” he grumbles so quietly, no one but me will hear him.

I clutch his arm tighter, some desperate part of me using him as a security blanket, like a baby bird, afraid to leave the nest. “I think you’re better schooled in pheromones than I am.”

Luckily, my eyes lock on a familiar face and relief floods through me. Andi hurries toward us, looking elegant in an all-white version of the dress that I’m wearing. There must be a store where they take all women to buy one of these dresses and initiate them into the Stepford Wives club.

“Get me out of here,” Andi grumbles as she approaches us.

I laugh as she takes hold of Lionel’s other arm and steers us to a table full of glasses of champagne.

“I’m serious. You have no idea what I’ve had to endure from Aunt Camille.”

She grabs two glasses, first chugging one and quickly placing it back down before anyone can see and then sipping the other.

“That your daddy’s sister?” Lionel asks, handing me a stem and then taking one for himself.

“ Yes . Speak of the devil,” she mutters, narrowing her eyes at a woman walking toward us.

“Andi, dear, your grandmother is arriving. She would love to have a chat with you before she comes inside.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Andi gives me a half-smile and then hurries off in the direction of the gate we previously entered to see her Mawmaw.

Camille turns to Lionel and I, regarding him with her nose in the air.

“You must be the maid of honor,” she says to me, flashing a bright white set of teeth.

I smile and stick out my hand. “Yes, Bailey Carpenter. You have a beautiful home.”

She fans herself with one of those elegant hand fans that you only see in old movies and daintily takes my hand. “Yes, thank you. We just knew it would be the perfect place to hold Andi’s bridal shower.”

“This is our friend, Lionel,” I say, gesturing to Lionel who looks like he’s stepped straight into the viper’s den.

“Oh, hello,” Camille says, not offering her hand. I get the sense that this is something Lionel’s used to because he doesn’t even flinch. “I don’t suppose you two would be dating?”

“Oh, no,” I laugh, but Lionel cuts me off with something greater.

“We play for the same team.” It takes a moment, but once realization crosses over Camille’s face, I can see she doesn’t like it.

“Oh, well.” She fans herself harder, her gaze searching around the party for anyone better to talk to. “I must be off; I believe my sister is looking for me. It was very nice to meet you both,” she calls over her shoulder before disappearing into the throng of women .

“Why do you let people treat you that way?” I ask, taking a large drink from my champagne glass.

“You don’t think I haven’t dealt with that my entire life?” Lionel asks, cocking a brow at me.

“It’s just not right,” I murmur, as the gate opens and a little old lady steps through with her arm around Andi’s. This must be Mawmaw. “You’re still a person. A good one, at that.”

Lionel chuckles and leads me to one of the tables in the center of the garden. “I’m glad you think so, cheré .”

“Guys, I want you to meet my Mawmaw. Mawmaw, this is Bailey and Lionel. Bailey is my best friend I told you about from California and you’ve met Lionel at the restaurant.”

The first thing I notice about Mawmaw is the bright pink lipstick and perfectly curled hair. The next thing is the spitfire attitude.

“You should marry her, instead,” Mawmaw says, jabbing her thumb at me and raising her brows.

“Mawmaw!” Andi laughs, helping her to sit down in the chair beside me. “You behave over here. I’ll go get you some punch.”

“Better get me liquor if I have to deal with that aunt of yours,” Mawmaw says, huffing as she turns back to face me. “I don’t care much for parties.” She shakes her head. “Especially ones with no alcohol.”

“I can get you a glass of champagne,” Lionel chirps.

“I mean real alcohol. How else are you supposed to put up with family?”

I laugh, nodding in agreement.

“That damned Camille has done it again,” she says, looking around her. “She’s turned something that was meant for someone else into her own party.”

I can’t argue with her. Camille is surrounded by women, praising what looks to be a rose bush at the front of the garden.

“I never liked her, you know?” Mawmaw says, lowering her voice and leaning toward me. “Her son is a delinquent. One of those hood rats.”

“Tell me more, Mawmaw,” Lionel jokes, finishing his glass.

She eyes him. “You don’t want him. He’s missing one of his front teeth because he broke into the house of an old veteran. Pretty ugly now.”

I’ve decided I like Mawmaw.

“Now, you’re staying next to Charlie, aren’t you?” Mawmaw says, raising her eyebrows.

Shit. I’ve done a great job of putting last night out of my mind up until this point. The hickey on my neck that Charlie left burns like it’s a sin, searing me from the inside out.

“Yes.”

“Now, your grandson is quite the looker, Mawmaw,” Lionel interjects.

“He is. I wish he would settle down. Are you single Bailey?”

I almost choke on my champagne and that causes Lionel and Mawmaw to laugh.

“Mawmaw, I thought you had better judgement in friends?” a very, very familiar voice chimes. A strong body sidles up next to Mawmaw, an arm wrapping around her shoulders.

She jumps, surprised, but it’s quickly replaced with a look of utter adoration for her only grandson .

“My dear, sweet Charlie,” she gushes, reaching back to pat his cheek. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“I wouldn’t miss out on seeing the prettiest girl in the world.”

Kiss ass.

Charlie looks up at me for a split second, then back down at his grandmother. My stomach does a flip the moment our eyes meet and I don’t have the decency to be embarrassed. After last night, it’s impossible not to stare.

“Really, though, this one will get you in trouble.”

“Pish posh,” Mawmaw waves. “I like this one.”

My heart warms and I stare pointedly at Charlie, who ignores me.

“Did you know your sister’s wedding dress is pink, not white?” Mawmaw asks, and I’m thankful for the change of subject, even if it is in scrutiny of Andi.

Charlie pauses for a moment and I can tell he doesn’t understand the meaning.

Mawmaw lowers her voice as a couple other older ladies join our table. “In my day, wearing any color but white on your wedding day signified that you were having premarital relations.”

For the first time since I had met him, I can see Charlie is uncomfortable. I chuckle at his expense, seeing his jaw tick.

“Well, you know how it is, nowadays,” Charlie grumbles, looking to me for backup. I raise my eyebrows, refusing to come to his aid.

“Bailey. I need you two,” Andi says, suddenly appearing at my side. She stops, her eyes narrowing on her brother. “This is supposed to be women-only.”

He simply shrugs. “Lionel’s here.”

“He’s basically a girl.”

She has him there.

Andi doesn’t give Charlie time to reply to her before she’s pulling me away.

“It was nice talking with you, Mawmaw,” I call over my shoulder and she smiles brightly, waving her fingers at me.

Andi tugs us into the house and it’s every bit as grand as the back yard. Tall ceilings, intricate plaster work, furniture that looks like it came straight from the estate sale of an eighteen hundreds millionaire’s house.

“What is wrong?” I ask Andi. She’s tugging me so hard she’s about to rip my arm out of the socket.

Andi pulls us into a small bathroom at the back of the house. “I didn’t want to do this here, but I couldn’t enjoy myself, not knowing.”

Lionel leans back against the closed door as Andi tugs open her small clutch and produces a pregnancy test.

“Shit. I should have stayed with Mawmaw,” he groans, turning his back.

“I need your support, guys,” Andi says, on the verge of tears.

“Hey,” I say, rubbing her back. “It’s okay. We’re here for you.”

Andi takes a shaky breath. “Okay.”

“Now, just get it over with so that way you know. Have you been feeling weird?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know. No? But my period’s a week and a half late.”

“Could be the stress,” Lionel says, his eyes still trained on the door.

I nod. “Come on. You take it and I’ll wait for it to turn.”

As it turns out, Andi is not pregnant.

After four minutes of waiting, I finally turned it over and everyone let out a collective sigh of relief.

“Oh, thank God,” Andi sighs, holding a hand over her heart. “I thought I was done.”

“I told you it was the stress,” Lionel says, pushing off the door. “You need to take it easy.”

“I am. Since Bailey’s here, things have been way easier. I think I’m just worried about work and school and this wedding and Tom and Tom’s mom and Charlie and Priscilla and Bailey having a good time and—”

“Okay, enough,” I say, holding up a hand to stop her. “You can’t control any of those things, but yourself. Just focus on you and take a breather. Enjoy your bridal shower.”

She smiles, though it doesn’t reach her eyes.

“I guess I can have another glass of champagne.”

Lionel holds out his arm. “Come on, cheré . I saw wine in that kitchen.”

I split from the group because I need a moment to collect myself, before returning to the party and make my way to the side gate I saw, hoping to step out and have a cigarette. There’s no sign of Charlie in the garden and I’m grateful. Maybe the bastard left.

Hidden by the garden wall, I step out, lighting my cigarette quickly, before anyone can find me.

“Winning my grandma over to your side is no small feat.”

I jump, chocking on my inhale and sputtering. Charlie pats my back, a little too roughly, as I struggle to catch my breath.

“Told you those things would kill you,” he taunts.

“You’re going to kill me,” I wheeze. Charlie steps back looking me up and down and a blush warms my cheeks.

“Looks like you’re raiding her closet, now, too.”

“Your sister picked this out for me. Don’t you have someone else to annoy?” I snap, my hand shaking as I raise the cigarette back to my lips.

“You stepped onto my part of the sidewalk,” he argues, his eyes flashing with that particular brand of Charlie amusement that both annoys the hell out of me and makes my stomach do a backflip off the high dive.

“Allow me to remove myself,” I smile sweetly, taking off down the sidewalk.

“They’ll see you up there,” he calls. “Camille has camera’s all over the front of the house. This is the only place there isn’t one.”

I stop and close my eyes, sucking in a deep breath before turning back around.

“Are you sure that’s the reason? Don’t have any more desires you need to fulfill?”

His eyes flash, a dark look passing over his features. I know he’s remembering last night, just like I am. My stomach belly-flops, thinking of the dirty things he said, the feel of him holding me, getting him to lose even that sliver of an ounce of control .

“Still thinking of me, huh, princess?”

“Only when I applied a pound of concealer to cover your mistake,” I point out, tilting my head to the side so he can see the vanished hickey.

His jaw ticks. “Who said it was a mistake?” he murmurs darkly.

The hair on the back of my neck rises and my body warms. I should be ashamed, lusting over my best friend’s brother at her bridal shower, yet I couldn’t stop the sudden dull throb in my core at the meaning behind his words.

So gently I barely feel him, he reaches out, his fingers grazing the flesh where the hickey is hidden.

“What would your Mawmaw think if she knew what you were doing last night?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

His fingertips graze the soft flesh above my collarbone before moving to the front. He grips my throat, barely touching me, but backing me up until my back hits the wall. My cigarette falls from my fingertips, hitting the sidewalk and billowing up smoke.

Charlie’s lips hover over mine, stealing my breath away. “I seem to remember someone desperately grinding on my cock until they came, screaming my name.”

My heart beats in my ears. My mind goes hazy as heat blossoms in my core. My nipples strain, painfully hard against the front of my dress. Instinctively, I arch into him, my breasts grazing his chest. Charlie’s eyes are dark and volatile, like he might snap at any second and take me right here on the Garden District sidewalk.

“You think you’re the first man to make me come from fucking me? I did all the work last night,” I point out, my breathing ragged. “I fucked you.”

Charlie’s other hand reaches for me, gripping my hip hard enough to bruise and pulling my front against his. His erection presses into my stomach and a heavy weight settles between my legs.

“Go back to the party or you won’t be able to walk for your shift tomorrow.”

He releases me, stepping back and stealing his warmth away. I stumble, catching myself on the wall as my pulse hammers in my chest. Charlie walks across the street to his truck.

“Just remember,” I call to him. “Mawmaw likes me.”

I don’t wait for him to turn back around. I don’t have to. I saw the tension in his shoulders and it brought joy to me to know that I could have even an ounce of an effect on him like he does me.

“There you are,” Andi says as I rejoin the table in the garden. “Did you get lost and get directions from a sucker fish?”

My hand darts to my neck. That fucking asshole.

“I burnt myself with my curling iron this morning. I must have wiped off the makeup.”

Lionel hides his amusement by sipping his cup of tea, but Andi seems to buy it, though, she doesn’t have much of a choice when Camille announces it’s time for presents.

Lionel chuckles, reaching under the table to pat my knee. I can tell what he’s thinking and I agree with him wholeheartedly.

Charlie and I are playing a dangerous game and sooner or later, one of us is going to lose. Something tells me it’ll be me.