The Magnolia Sisters

by Michelle Major

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “THAT DOG DOESN’T look right.”

  Avery gritted her teeth at the not-so-helpful observation delivered in a slow Southern drawl. “She’s fine,” she said without turning around. Instead she concentrated on Spot. “I’ve got a whole bunch of treats in my pocket. Who wants a treat?”

  She tugged on the leash, but Spot didn’t budge. The dog had made it about twenty-five feet across the grassy park in the center of town before dropping to the ground and refusing to walk any farther.

  Avery had purposely parked on the far side of the park to give Spot a bit of the exercise she desperately needed. She’d planned to take the dog for a walk before leaving, but instead she’d taken a minute to check email and her social media accounts, and gotten sucked down the online rabbit hole.

  Spot hadn’t seemed to mind. The dog had nudged her leg until she’d bent and picked her up. Meredith said no people food but hadn’t mentioned rules about dogs on furniture. Spot had scooted closer on the sofa, then curled into a ball at Avery’s side.

  The dog’s presence had been surprisingly comforting as Avery surreptitiously snooped on the Facebook account of the wife of her ex-boyfriend. Sofia posted updates on their young son, Mark, who’d been seriously injured in a car accident that Avery still felt responsible for.

  She hadn’t let herself check up on Tony’s family since she’d fled San Francisco, but somehow Spot’s warmth and rhythmic breathing next to her made her feel like she wasn’t so alone. She and the dog had stayed together long enough that Avery barely had time to shower before she needed to be downtown.

  “You think a dog treat’s a smart plan? Seems to me someone’s already been a bit too generous with the biscuits.”

  “It wasn’t me,” Avery said, realizing she sounded defensive. “And I’m not really going to give her a treat.” She straightened and turned to find a tall, well-dressed man standing behind her, a straw fedora perched on his head. The man’s skin was the color of a perfect latte with a salt-and-pepper beard covering his jaw.

  “So you’re lying to that animal?”

  Something about the teasing note in his tone made Avery smile, despite her frustration with the heat and with Spot. “Do you think she cares?”

  “Nope.” He held out a hand. “I’m Malcolm Grimes, mayor of Magnolia. You’re Avery Reed from—”

  “Keller,” she corrected quickly. “Avery Keller. My mom raised me on her own, so I have her family name. How do you know who I am?”

  Malcolm nodded solemnly. “I was raised by my granny, so I know all about strong women taking care of business on their own. Everyone around here knows who you are. And I googled you.”

  “What did people do before the internet?”

  “Used the phone book a lot more, for one thing.”

  Spot made a soft grunting sound, lifting her head to sniff the air.

  “She caught the scent of the Bagel Buggy,” Malcolm said with a laugh.

  “What’s a Bagel Buggy?” Avery’s stomach rumbled as the warm breeze carried the smell of fresh-baked bread to her.

  “Magnolia’s version of a food truck. They’re more like food ‘carts’ but they work for us. We have a burrito, bagel and pizza buggy. Cyrus, who runs the Bagel Buggy, usually opens first. He does breakfast sandwiches in addition to a lunch menu. We’ll have to make a date for lunch one of these afternoons. As mayor it’s my duty to welcome new residents to our town.”

  Avery frowned. The offer was friendly, not flirty, and she didn’t get any weird “pickup” vibes from the older man. “I’m not staying in town,” she told him honestly. “I’m a waste of a good bagel sandwich.”

  “The Bagel Buggy is never a waste.” He inclined his head. “Don’t be so sure about what you mean to this town or what we might come to mean to you.”

  “I’m here for family business,” Avery said, glancing at her watch. After giving Spot’s leash another tug, which the dog ignored, she bent and scooped the chunky fur ball into her arms. “Nice to meet you, Mayor, but I’m late for a meeting.”

  “I’ll walk to Josie’s with you,” he offered, falling into step beside her. “You understand the Reeds have been a big part of this town and our history for many years now. Niall committed himself to—”

  “How did you know I was heading to the dance studio?” Josie Trumbell owned Josie’s School of Dance. It was one of several businesses in the buildings Avery now owned that hadn’t paid rent for several years according to the financial records she found in the office at the gallery. She threw him a sidelong glance as he cleared his throat.

  “Lucky guess?”

  “Try again.”

  “Josie, Phil and Stuart asked me to talk to you,” he admitted. “They’re worried about how you’re going to handle their leases.”

  “Are they also concerned that they’ve been riding the coattails of Niall’s misplaced generosity for far too long?”

  “Your father understood the importance of a thriving downtown. He was willing to help support others for the good of the community.”

  “How is downtown thriving if the shops and business owners aren’t bringing in enough revenue to pay the bills?”

  “Things changed around here when tourists stopped coming to visit the gallery and the workshops Niall sponsored. But Magnolia is a great place with good people. We’re all doing what we can to turn things around.”

  Avery didn’t like the frisson of responsibility that skittered along her skin. She owed nothing to this town or its well-intentioned mayor. Maybe Niall Reed should have paid more attention to his own life and less to his reputation as Magnolia’s guardian angel, especially when he no longer had the financial means for that sort of largesse.

  “Ignoring reality doesn’t help anyone,” she told Malcolm, not slowing her pace. “It didn’t do much for either of my sisters or me. I’m not sure what you hope or expect from me...”

  “I don’t want to see Josie’s studio close,” Malcolm answered without hesitation. “Or Phil’s hardware store or the bookshop Stuart’s family has owned since his great-grandma retired as the school librarian over thirty years ago.”

  Avery stopped walking, and Spot wiggled in her arms. Finally, something positive about this morning. The dog wanted some exercise. She lowered the animal to the ground, and Spot quickly trotted over to where someone had dropped a half-eaten breakfast sandwich. The dog gobbled up bites of egg and sausage like she was an Olympic competitor.

  “Spot, no.” Avery yanked the leash, half dragging the dog away from the food. So much for positive.

  “Listen, Mr. Mayor,” she said, turning to Malcolm. “As sympathetic as I might be to the plight of a struggling small town, there’s nothing I can do to help your friends.”

  “Are you sympathetic?” His face brightened. “Did you grow up in a small town?”

  “No.” Avery waved the hand that wasn’t holding the leash. “I was raised in San Francisco. We lived in a high-rise downtown, and my mom worked a lot. She’s a surgeon. It was a very important job. But I watched Gilmore Girls back in the day. I get small towns.”

  Malcolm threw back his head and laughed, a cackling sound of joy and disbelief. “Lordy, girl. Watching a television show about small-town life is like seeing a photo of cotton candy. It looks good but you sure can’t understand the sweet scent or the joy of spun sugar melting on your tongue unless you experience it firsthand.”

  Avery bent down and picked up Spot again. “I’ve never had cotton candy.”

  “Excuse me?”

  She shrugged. “My mom didn’t believe in sugary treats.”

  “What’s a treat without sugar?” Malcolm shook his head.

  “I don’t like things that are messy. Like cotton candy. Or children.”

  “Small-town life is messy,” Malcolm said gently. “Life is messy.”

  �
�Not mine,” Avery told him and resumed walking. “It never has been, and I’m not starting now.” She spoke the words, hoping the confidence of her tone would convince them both. Her world in the past month barely resembled the life she knew. “I couldn’t help the business owners even if I wanted to.”

  She held up a hand when he would have spoken. “Which I don’t. I don’t have the money to float them or the clout Niall apparently had with the bank. They aren’t going to allow me to continue skipping mortgage payments.”

  “These are good people, Ms. Keller,” Malcolm said, and there was no mistaking the plea in his voice.

  “I’m not arguing that point. I wish there was more I could offer.”

  Did she? This town and the people in it meant nothing to Avery. If she had the ability to help the businesses turn things around, would she take it?

  She shook off the thought. It didn’t matter because there would be no opportunity for her to help. “I appreciate you taking the time to introduce yourself,” she told Malcolm. “I hope whatever happens to Magnolia after I sell Niall’s property ends up being for the best.”

  “Me, too,” he agreed, not sounding at all convinced.

  “It’s a beautiful area,” she said, unsure why she felt the need to give him some hope but unable to stop herself. “My background is in business management, and for my senior project in college I did a marketing plan for a small town in northern California. It was just outside wine country so it needed marketing and advertising that would entice tourists to make the stop.” She shrugged. “You have so much to offer here. It’s past time to look beyond Niall Reed’s reputation as a draw for Magnolia. That might have worked a decade ago, but it’s not enough.”

  “I like the way your mind works,” Malcolm told her. “We need some innovative thinking around these parts. In fact, you could help—”

  “Not me,” she said, holding up a hand to cut him off. “I’ve already told you I’m not staying in town. Now I need to get to the meeting. Have a nice day, Mr. Grimes.” She readjusted Spot in her arms and started across the street.

  “Call me Malcolm,” the mayor shouted as she got to the other side. “All my friends do.”

  “Bye, Malcolm,” she said, waving over her shoulder.

  She’d planned to stop in the gallery but bypassed it and headed directly toward the dance studio next door. As she opened the door to enter, Carrie emerged from the gallery.

  “I need to talk to you,” Carrie called, motioning her away from the door.

  Avery glanced toward the front of the gallery and lifted a hand. “Late for my meeting. I’ll stop by after,” she said and walked into Josie’s dance studio.

  Spot gave a tiny yip, and Avery felt her mouth drop open as she took in the lobby crowded with people, all of whom seemed to be staring straight at her. “Um...hello,” she said softly.

  “You’re here. Late, but here. Thank heavens.” A tall woman who might have had a dancer’s build at one time hurried forward. Her graying hair was pulled back into a low bun and she had pale skin and ruby-red lips. Despite being at least twenty pounds overweight, she moved with the innate grace of someone who’d spent her life at a barre. “I’m Josie Trumbell and you must be Avery.”

  Avery gave a slight nod.

  Josie waved toward the people smiling hopefully at the two of them. “We’ve been waiting.”

  “I thought we had a meeting scheduled.” Avery noticed that Josie seemed intent on not making eye contact with her. “To talk about your lease,” she added even though they both knew why they were supposed to meet.

  “Tried to warn you,” Carrie muttered from behind Avery’s left shoulder. She hadn’t noticed her sister enter the dance studio behind her.

  “And who is this adorable creature?” Josie reached out her red-tipped fingers to scratch between Spot’s ears. The dog preened like the attention was her due.

  “This is Spot.” Avery leaned closer to Josie. “Why are these people here?”

  “They’re the parents of my students,” Josie explained in a voice that carried. “The children have something special planned. As many who could make it came in early just for you.”

  “Oh, no.” Avery tucked Spot under one arm and held up her free hand. “This is a business meeting.”

  “How can we discuss the studio’s future until you understand what my classes mean to this community?”

  “I’m sure they mean a great deal. I just don’t ca—” Avery broke off when the crowd surrounding them seemed to surge forward at her words. She had the sneaking suspicion she might be subjected to an old-fashioned tarring and feathering if she didn’t make time for whatever Josie had planned.

  This wasn’t fair. How could she be expected to care about a bunch of people she didn’t know? Magnolia wasn’t her town, and she hadn’t made the mess of Niall’s finances. From what she understood, he’d raked in plenty of profits from his art back in the day. Maybe if he’d been more responsible with how he handled his money, the people who’d depended on him wouldn’t be in this predicament now.

  She glanced at the faces of the parents in the lobby, a sick pit opening in her stomach. She didn’t want to be the bad guy again, especially not in this situation. Her gaze snagged on a pair of green eyes. Gray Atwell gave her an almost imperceptible smile along with an encouraging nod. Was Violet part of this stunt?

  Had he known Avery was being set up this way? Not that he owed her any loyalty, but it still stung.

  “I don’t have a lot of time,” she lied to Josie. All Avery had was time. Time and a growing balance of credit card debt.

  “Then let’s get started.” The older woman took Avery’s hand in hers. Josie’s grip was sure, her skin soft in the same way Avery remembered from her mother. “Available students in each class, from the tiny toes to the teens, have put together a short demonstration of their current program. It will be like a mini recital.”

  “Oh, joy,” Avery muttered.

  Josie squeezed her fingers, tucking Avery and Spot closer against her side. She smelled like some sort of overflowery perfume or lotion and Avery could just imagine the multitude of wee dancers in Magnolia who’d grown up only to have the scent of roses carry them back to their childhood. She almost laughed at the fact that this woman holding her hand had reminded Avery of her mother. Melissa Keller didn’t hold hands. She rarely showed any sort of physical affection, unless straightening Avery’s school uniform counted.

  Josie and Avery walked into the open dance studio, which was bright and welcoming with large windows, polished floors in honey-colored wood and a row of ballet barres in front of a wall of shiny mirrors. “We hold our seasonal recitals at the elementary school,” Josie explained. “But this will do for today.”

  “It isn’t going to change anything.” Avery felt compelled to say the words out loud.

  “Maybe not,” Josie agreed with a sad smile. “But the kids wanted to try.”

  Avery plastered a smile on her face as Josie led her to a row of chairs situated against the far wall. What else was she supposed to do? The parents followed, filling in the seats around her, although no one sat directly beside her until Carrie and Gray approached. Her sister took the seat to Avery’s left and Gray to her right. Spot remained in her arms, happy to be cradled like a baby. Avery tried to take comfort in the dog’s steady heartbeat. At least someone was happy with this turn of events.

  “Sorry,” Carrie mouthed, patting Avery’s leg as she tucked her purse under the chair.

  “Nice mini cow,” Gray told her. He reached out to scratch Spot’s back, earning a soft snuffle from the animal.

  “Did you know about this?” Avery demanded under her breath.

  He shook his head. “Not until one of the moms called me to say she was picking up a few of the dance class girls early from school.”

  His words eased a bit of the tension spiralin
g through her. “It’s ridiculous,” she whispered.

  “Josie has a special way with the kids,” he countered gently. “She’s an institution around here.”

  “I’m not debating that. But—”

  She broke off as Josie introduced the first group of dancers. Five young girls and two boys filed out from a door at the other side of the studio. They couldn’t have been more than three years old. The girls wore pale pink leotards with tulle tutus, tights and soft ballet slippers. Several of them looked nervous while a couple of the girls offered gapped-tooth grins to the audience. One of the boys, a skinny towhead, waved at his parents.

  Spot perked up, shifting in Avery’s arms as if intrigued by the performance. They watched as the kids began to move through the choreographed positions. Avery had expected it to be adorable. She wasn’t completely unaware of the charm of children even if she typically remained immune to it.

  But Gray had been correct. Josie was amazing with the kids. Her love for dance and teaching it was palpable. None of the kids was going to give Misty Copeland a run for her money, but each of them danced with an infectious joy that couldn’t be denied.

  After a few minutes, the music ended. The first group of dancers bowed and then filed out of the room, replaced by the next class. Violet appeared, still sporting Avery’s braids from yesterday. She waved to her father, beamed at Carrie and then shot Avery an angry death glare.

  Avery tugged on the ends of her hair and mouthed, “Nice braids,” earning an eye roll from the girl.

  “You know she’s five,” Gray whispered, leaning in. “You’re supposed to be the adult.”

  Oh, yeah, Avery’s girlie parts wanted to shout as Gray’s heat and masculine scent washed over her. All grown woman right here.

  “Kids shouldn’t be coddled,” she answered instead, then bit the inside of cheek, hating that she sounded like her mother.

  “Dad used to say the same thing,” Carrie told them both. “That’s a strange coincidence.”