The Dirty South

by Penelope King

  The moment I pass through the oak entryway and look around, I sense a relief I haven’t felt in days...weeks even. After motel living and being cooped up in my car, this cozy cottage is most appealing. It’s decorated in soft, neutral colors, with dim lighting, and I immediately feel welcome and at home. The only downside is Colton’s presence, which seems somehow magnified in the small house.

  “It’s fully furnished, as you can see,” he drawls. “I know the kitchen ain’t much. But you have full access to the one in the main house day and night. It’s huge.”

  I nod, and try to put as much physical distance between us as I can. But the place is too small to spread out very much. Just a cozy main area with a stone fireplace, a tiny dinette with a mini-fridge, and a counter with some basic appliances. Off to one side is the bedroom, with a dresser and a queen-sized bed that fills practically the whole space, and next to that is a bathroom.

  I wander over to the window and pull back the curtains. In the distance I see two more bungalows like mine lit up amongst the trees.

  “That’s my place there,” Colton says quietly, and I almost jump out of my skin. I hadn’t realized he’d come right up behind me like that. “And Willie stays in the middle one. We’re the long-termers. Short-termers and overnighters stay in a special section of the main house. The other building is a sort of garage slash storage unit that Willie and I use.”

  I nod and try to compose myself, but his eyes hold me hostage. They are such a soft, pretty shade of pale blue, while the rest of him seems so hard and masculine. Why does his energy still feel so much bigger than it should?

  I nervously lick my swollen lip, and he glances at my mouth. “Who’s Willie?” I ask quietly.

  Colton surprises me again with an easy grin. “Willie’s great. You’ll meet him if you come to breakfast tomorrow.”

  “Breakfast?”

  He nods and heads toward the door. “Served hot between seven and eight. Before or after then, you’re on your own to make whatever you like. No Sundays, but The Dirty does a great brunch.”

  “Umm, okay. I’ll try and make it. I’m still getting used to the time difference out here.”

  Colton cocks his head and studies me for a moment, and I’d give anything to know what he’s thinking. His eyes briefly flash a stormy blue.

  “I’ll get your things now,” he finally says. “Make yourself at home.”

  *****

  I feel a gentle shaking, and my eyes flutter open as I drift into consciousness. It’s dark, and someone is leaning over me, saying my name.

  I gasp and sit up, quickly turning my head as I try to orient myself.

  “Cady… don’t be alarmed, it’s okay. It’s just me,” the husky voice whispers.

  I swallow and rub my eyes, making out his silhouette in the shadows. He’s standing over the bed and touching my shoulder

  “What is it? Is something wrong?” I gasp out. My heart is pounding wildly in my chest.

  “No, everything is okay… don’t be frightened,” he whispers back. “Do you know where you are?”

  “Yes, I know where I am… do you? Are you lost?” I scoot away further, thoroughly unnerved. “Why are you here?”

  “What’s your full name?”

  “What?”

  “What’s your full name?” he repeats.

  Oh God, is he some sort of twisted rapist killer or something?

  “Cadence Jane St. Claire,” I whisper, my voice trembling.

  “What’s my name?”

  American Psycho?

  “Colton Lassiter.”

  “Do you know where you are?” he asks again.

  I gulp. “Yes, a guest house at Magnolia Manor.”

  “Do you know what day it is?”

  “It’s the middle of the night! For the love of God, what’re you doing here?”

  “I just needed to check and make sure you were okay.”

  “Make sure I’m okay?” I sit up straighter, totally wide awake now. “I was asleep! I was perfectly fine! Why would you come in here in the middle of the night and wake me up?”

  “Had to make sure you didn’t have a concussion,” Colton says gruffly. “I know you refused medical treatment, but you did have quite the blow earlier. Needed to make sure you could wake up easily and didn’t have any memory problems. That coulda been a bad sign. You seem fine though.”

  He starts to walk toward the door.

  “Wait a second,” I say, more calmly. Colton pauses and turns his head, and I see his profile in the shadows. “Thanks for checking in on me.”

  “Go back to sleep,” he replies, and then disappears. I hear the front door close and the gentle click of the lock.

  I lie there, wide awake, my heart racing.

  For a while I toss and turn, trying to rid my mind of the memory of Colton standing over me in the dark. And as the sun starts to rise, I finally, somehow, manage to drift off to sleep again.

  Chapter 7.

  It’s nearly noon when I drag myself out of bed and into the living room. All my luggage is stacked neatly just inside the front door, and on the counter is a big silver key and a note.

  “This is to the side door of the kitchen. Laundry is behind the walkway. Willie is usually around and so is Della Mae. Ask them if you have questions.”

  The note isn’t signed, but I know who it’s from. I read it several times, surprised at the elegant script and the smooth, round lettering. For some reason it seems at odds with the dirty grease monkey image. I had figured he’d be more of the chicken-scratch kinda guy.

  After doing some light unpacking, I get in the shower and luxuriate under the hot steam. Despite last night’s interruption, I feel well-rested and refreshed. It’s nice to be in a place that doesn’t remind me of Brandon everywhere I look. Even the air feels better in here just knowing he hasn’t breathed it. Or touched anything. All my memories here will be new.

  I put on a pale yellow sundress and some blue and white sandals, then twist my hair up in a bun. I’ve already had my first taste of the humidity here in the South, and I’ve learned that however many degrees it is outside, it’ll feel even hotter.

  A light dusting of makeup and some Vaseline for my lips and I’m good to go. I’ve never been one for the glam. Sometimes I had to get all dolled up for benefits or functions with Brandon’s family, but while I admit I enjoy playing Cinderella on occasion, it definitely isn’t my favorite way to go through life. I’m happy to see the swelling on my lower lip has mostly gone away, and except for the dark red line across the bottom of my mouth, I look as good as new.

  My cell phone buzzes and I check it. Two missed calls and several texts. Quickly I tap out I’m here, I’m alive, I’ll call you in a little bit twice. I definitely need to eat and have some coffee before calling my parents and Stacia.

  I fiddle for a minute with the house key Colton left before sticking it in my purse and grabbing the truck keys instead. I don’t feel like fending for myself this morning. The Dirty South is only a few minutes away, and the food last night was delicious. And cheap.

  Colton is out in front of the garage at the Grease Monkey when I pull the truck into the lot next door. He’s wearing a tight white tank, and I notice that the swirls of ink I saw last night also heavily decorate his shoulders and upper biceps. And when he turns around, I see the artistry continues across his shoulder blades and down his triceps.

  His whole look is just so alpha bad-boy, I find myself slightly surprised that this is the same guy who woke me up so tenderly in the middle of the night to make sure I was still breathing. Normally guys with tattoos aren’t my thing at all. They just seem to be trying too hard to be the macho badass. But for whatever reason, I don’t get that vibe from Colton. He doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy who’d mark up his body just for the sake of impressing others.

  But what the hell do I know.

  I get out of the truck. He must’ve seen me pull up, or at least heard me, but he still has his back to me. I watch him r
un his hands absently through his slightly too-long hair, and I get a sneaking suspicion that he doesn’t even own a hairbrush. Unlike Brandon, who spent so much time preening and making sure his perfectly-styled hair was always just right, with not a strand out of place.

  Note to self – never again fall for a guy who needs more mirror time than I do.

  I grunt and slam the driver’s side door as loudly as I can.

  Colton nonchalantly glances my way, then continues working on some fancy old-fashioned car almost as if he hadn’t even seen me. But I know he did. And I know this shouldn’t bother me, but it sorta does.

  I push through the heavy oak doors of The Dirty South. It’s considerably less busy today, and I notice how different the energy is compared to last night. It’s late enough that I probably missed the weekend lunch crowd.

  The same waitress from before breezes by, and her face lights up when she sees me. “Hi, again! Sit anywhere you like. I’ll be right with ya!” She gives me a big smile. She looks to be around my age, and she really is quite pretty, despite the liberal use of eye makeup.

  I haven’t been sitting thirty seconds when she comes back over and pours me a hot cup of coffee without even waiting for me to ask for it. She gives me a wink. “I know the look, sweetie. I’m just gonna leave the pot here for ya.”

  That’s last night’s big tip talking.

  I chuckle under my breath. “Do I look that bad?”

  “Nah, I’m only teasing ya.” She grins and swishes her hands. “But the coffee here is the best for miles, and you seem like you could use a treat.”

  “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

  “Take your time, I’ll be back.”

  I nod and pour in the cream and sugar. She’s right… this truly is some of the best coffee I’ve had since…well, in a very long time. My spirits immediately start to lift, and I feel my head beginning to clear a little.

  I decide on the Belgian waffle with strawberries and a side of bacon and eggs. I’m not sure where my crazy appetite is coming from, but at this rate I’m very shortly going to outstrip my law school weight gain. And right now I don’t even care. Not that that extra padding, added to my already curvy physique, was all bad. I definitely got my fair share of appreciative looks from plenty of guys. Of course it never mattered then. I was too busy wasting my time looking only at Brandon. And he was obviously looking… elsewhere.

  The waitress comes back, and I love how she doesn’t even bat an eyelash when I give her my huge order. After she leaves I pick up my phone to text my mom. I just can’t deal with her live yet.

  ‘I’m here. So far so good. Just getting settled now.’

  A few minutes later I read…

  ‘Have you heard from Brandon?’

  I sigh and set the phone down on the table. No, Oh good, glad you made it there in one piece. No, Wonderful, I hope you’re happy out there! Nope. Just, Have you heard from Brandon…

  I slowly rub my temples and close my eyes. I think she and dad are taking the breakup worse than I am. They had such dreams of their only daughter becoming the in-law of a powerful governor and probable presidential candidate. And they knew that it was all a lie… that I was just being used as a prop. They knew and they didn’t care.

  I take that back… they cared when I found out the truth. And when I wanted no part of it. Then they cared. But not because my heart was shattered and my world was exploding and my head was spinning off into orbit. That wasn’t their big concern.

  “Men cheat, Cadence,” Mom had scolded me as she admired her reflection in the mirror. “You’d better get used to that fact real fast, or you’re going to have a very unhappy life. And if you make the mistake of equating sex and love… especially in a marriage… you’ll be miserable and single forever.”

  “You wouldn’t care if Dad cheated on you?” I’d asked her through my sobs. Even though my situation was totally different. And she knew it.

  She’d just raised a haughty eyebrow and smoothed some blush over her cheeks. “I’ve always turned a blind eye to your father’s indiscretions, and I’m much happier for it.” Then she turned to face me. “Powerful, strong men… them straying… it’s hardwired into their DNA. They need to fill their sexual desires somehow, and no woman… no one person on earth will ever be enough for that type of man, nor should you want to bear that burden alone. The sooner you learn to accept that, the sooner you can have a happy life. One with Brandon. The way it was always planned.”

  “Planned?”

  “You know… you are so perfect together. Everyone says so. You will be the envy of all your peers. You’re both so attractive and talented and smart, with great jobs lined up… brilliant futures—”

  “Mother! What are you even saying?! Brandon was more than just cheating on me! My future was supposed to be with him, and now that’s gone!”

  She had abruptly turned away and begun coiffing her silky blonde mane. I swear, she spends more time in the hair salon in one month than most women do all year. “Like I said, once you realize that sex and love aren’t the same thing, you will quit making life so hard for yourself and everyone else. Why don’t you just grow up?”

  “If growing up means living a lie I’d rather stay a child, thank you very much!”

  I’d left her house that day in tears and hadn’t spoken to her directly since. That was over a month ago… shortly after I’d discovered the truth about Brandon, and then had learned the even more horrific truth that my parents had known almost the whole time. I was hoping that my mother would come to her senses… stop being the power-hungry, social-ladder-climbing monster that had essentially robbed me of a real mother. But no such luck. Of course not.

  Dad at least had the heart to pretend to feel badly for me, and had set this whole thing up with his friend Sheldon so I could get out of town for a while. Lay low until everything blew over and the gossip queens moved on to something else. But I know they’re both hoping I’ll return to Newport and beg Brandon to take me back so we can still be the perfect couple everyone wants us to be.

  It is so revolting… that they think our whole lives should revolve around a lie. As if what other people think is the most important thing in life. All this phony, pretentious bullshit is killing me.

  I just want to be as far away from all of it as I can possibly be.

  The waitress returns with my food, and I stare greedily at the enormous plate covered with mounds of huge, fresh strawberries, the biggest I’ve ever seen.

  She flashes me a wide smile. “I gave you extra berries. They’re local grown and organic. Best you’ll ever have anywhere.”

  I grin back. She seems really sweet. I glance at her nametag. “Thank you, Vivian. It all looks delicious.”

  “Call me Vivi. Everyone else does.”

  “I’m Cadence, but everyone calls me Cady.”

  She reaches out and gives me a warm handshake. She looks like she wants to say something more, but hesitates.

  “This is a great place… you work here long?” I ask her.

  She nods and puts a hand on her slender hip. “Going on five years now. Started off as a hostess ‘til Tom and Sally moved me to the tables. They’re the owners.”

  I motion to the seat across from me. “Looks pretty slow in here right now. Can you join me for a cup of coffee, or will you get in trouble?”

  Vivi gives a quick glance around at the sparsely occupied room and shrugs. Everyone seems happily engaged in their meals and conversations.

  “Sure, I can sit for a few.” She takes a seat and pours herself a cup of coffee while I dig into the waffle.

  “I heard what happened to you last night,” she says, her eyes wide. “I’m real glad you weren’t hurt!”

  I stop chewing and stare at her. Then I swallow. “How’d you hear what happened?”

  “You’re the new girl, right? The lawyer lady from California?”

  “I’m from California, yes. But I’m not actually a lawyer. I just graduated law school, but I have
n’t taken the bar yet.” And I probably never will.

  She looks confused for a moment and frowns. “Oh… but you are going to be working at the law office, right?”

  I nod and take a bite of a plump strawberry. “Yes, but not in the capacity of an attorney. I’m more like a glorified assistant, really.”

  “You came all the way out here from California to be someone’s assistant?” She frowns again.

  I stifle a sigh and cock my head. “How’d you know about my accident?” I ask, changing the subject.

  She waves her hand. “Aw, honey, pretty much the minute something happens ‘round this town everyone already knows. Besides,” she gives a little wink, “Maple always comes in for her nightly coffee and muffin and she told me all about you.”

  I smile and nod politely as I take a bite of my bacon. I want to make friends here, but I’m not really interested in being fodder for the town gossips. Especially if they find out the real truth about me. Then I’d be screwed. I can already imagine the looks and the behind the back whispering.

  Vivi seems to sense my discomfort and gives me a contrite smile. “Law school… that’s so impressive. I managed to make it through high school, and that was hard enough. But I’m saving up to go to the esthetician college down in Libertyville. That’s why I work the double-shifts here as often as I can.”

  “That’s great.”

  She shrugs and sips her coffee. “It’s not as important as being a lawyer, of course. But I always liked doing hair and makeup and nails… making people look pretty.”

  “Making people look good helps them to feel good about themselves. That’s important too.”

  She shrugs again. “Yeah, I guess so. My momma can’t really leave the house on account of her weight and poor health, and nothing makes her happier than when I give her a mani-pedi and roll her hair. She practically feels like a queen.”

  “That’s wonderful,” I murmur, and take a huge bite of my waffle. Just then, out of the corner of my eye, I notice a familiar swagger headed my way. I hurry to finish chewing, but no such luck. Colton is standing over the table looking at my buffet with a sparkle in his eye.