The Dirty South

by Penelope King

  “I want you to listen, and listen well. Keep an open mind and think of the big picture. Not your ego, or your childish romantic fantasies.”

  “Quite the sales pitch you have there, Mother.”

  “Arrangements like this have been around for ages. You will be rewarded quite handsomely to play a role, your role as a dutiful wife to Brandon, and he in turn will always behave as a loving and doting husband.”

  “On the outside,” I say, raising my eyebrow.

  “In exchange, you will not only get an upfront package of two million dollars cash, but will be given an annual stipend of a hundred thousand a year. And this is just for your personal pleasure. Of course all expenses… cars, travel, houses… all that will be paid for. And after ten years the amount goes up to two hundred and fifty thousand. Each child you bear brings in an additional fifty thousand a year.”

  I stare at her, literally at a loss for words. Finally I find some. “I didn’t realize his family was that rich,” I murmur. Or that desperate.

  “Christian is contributing too. He sees the benefits, and is very much on board with this plan.”

  Her eyes glow as she continues, leaning closer over the table and speaking in an excited but hushed tone. “Cadence, this is the opportunity of a lifetime. You have to take it. Just play along, and think of it like a job. A very lucrative and powerful job. One that will make you the envy of millions. You will be living the perfect life.”

  “You mean the perfect lie,” I whisper.

  She shakes her head. “Perception is reality. It will be as true as you want to make it. Most of it can be real. Now that the truth is out between you and Brandon, things will be better. You can be friends, best friends. He’ll treat you like a queen. And of course you can have your fun… discretely. Arrangements can be made.”

  I can’t even process what she’s suggesting. Of course that’s a lot of money, and I’d be an idiot to just dismiss her out of hand. But what is she really asking of me?

  I shake my head and rest it in my hands.

  “Cadence,” she says softly. “Think about it. Really think about it. What do you have going on now that’s so much better? Living in a tiny one bedroom place, working at a job that we both know you probably can’t stand? Let’s face it, without Brandon’s connections, look where you end up… in the middle of small town nowhere, alone, and working as a secretary.”

  You’d think that after all these years her words wouldn’t still hurt me, but they do. Especially those. Because she’s right.

  “I can make something of my life though,” I say. “Maybe not here necessarily, but somewhere.”

  She narrows her eyes. “Where… doing what exactly?”

  “I do have a law degree.”

  “And you want to put it to use and have to rely on it for your livelihood?”

  I shrug, and look down at the table.

  “Cadence, darling, your life is in California. You know it, we all know it. What happened was a very unfortunate incident, and believe me, no one is sorrier than Brandon is about what happened that night.”

  “Oh, I believe that.” I look up at her. “Funny how he’s never actually apologized to me though.”

  “He will! He wants to. More than anything. He just needs to know that you’ll be willing to forgive him and move on. He didn’t want to risk upsetting you further until I had a chance to clear the air with you.”

  I just shake my head again, unable to continue. Somewhere in an alternate universe I have a mother who cares about my true happiness and isn’t trying to pimp me out to the highest bidder. Unfortunately this isn’t it.

  “Just tell me you’ll give it some serious thought. You don’t need to decide now. Just know that you have options, very lucrative options that will give you a good, stable and protected life. Promise me that you’ll think about it.”

  I look at her, but before I can respond my attention is drawn to the couple just walking in. It must’ve been the familiar swagger that caught my eye.

  I turn and watch as Colton goes over to a table. With him is a curvaceous brunette, who, even from this distance is quite striking in her form-fitting pale green dress. She looks like Jessica Rabbit, but with distinctive blonde streaks framing her heart-shaped face.

  I can’t tear my eyes away from them, as he places his hand on the small of her back and pulls out the chair for her to sit down.

  A sick lump settles in my gut and moves up to my throat. Not seeing him these past few weeks has been bad enough. Seeing him here tonight, with her, is way worse.

  “Cadence?” my mother asks.

  Colton turns and sits in his own chair, nodding at something the girl has just said. His eyes flick over in my direction, and I catch the stunned look on his face when he sees me. He makes a faint grimace and glances at the girl, then back at me again. He stares a few seconds more, before focusing all his attention solely on her.

  An achy feeling moves deep in my chest. I tear my gaze away from where Colton sits with his beautiful date and look back out the window.

  “I will consider it.”

  Chapter 20.

  Fortunately my mother is gone before breakfast and I don’t have to see her again. There’s a tiny part of me that knows she really thinks she has my best interests at heart here. That this is a big, bad world and I’ll never survive without a big, powerful man by my side, no matter what his baggage is. I should just be grateful for the ring and the title of ‘wife’.

  I know she’s not intentionally trying to be cruel or hurtful. And although I’m revolted by the idea of going back to Brandon and living a lie, I can’t help but consider the fact that there would be some benefits. Maybe it does make some sense. As much as I hate to admit it, there was some truth to my mother’s words. I don’t really have a game plan. I don’t want to be a lawyer. I came out here to get away for a while, but this isn’t really my home or my life.

  Before ‘the night’, I did like my life. At least I thought I did. The problem was that I wasn’t seeing what was really there. If I framed my mind around a new type of relationship with Brandon, could it work? Even after all he did? Could I even one day forgive him?

  I honestly don’t know.

  Several days after my mother’s unwelcome visit, the weather is actually clear and sunny enough when I get off work that I can finally complete my Fates piece. For nearly a week, we’ve had a series of late afternoon summer storms, and although none was anywhere near as ferocious as the one that night at Colton’s, it made painting outside impossible. And I need the lighting to be just right for the important final touches.

  After changing out of my work clothes, I set up my easel in my usual spot, several yards back from the fountain, and off to the side of the guesthouses. The summer sun hangs low in the sky, but still provides plenty of rich light across the colorful gardens. I’m concentrating on mixing some greens together when I spy Colton emerging from his bungalow. I haven’t seen him since he was at the restaurant with that gorgeous woman.

  He looks my way, and I immediately look back at my paints. When I peek again, I’m startled to see that he’s walking toward me instead of heading to the garage as usual. I take a deep breath and subtly angle the easel to the side and stand in front of it, shielding it from his view.

  “Hey,” he says.

  “Hey.”

  It’s been so long since he’s stood this close, and I’m surprised by just how much his presence still physically affects me.

  His rich brown hair is slightly mussed as he stands and casually folds his arms across his chest. For some reason he seems apprehensive.

  Suddenly I’m transported back to that night, in the dark, when I felt him so powerfully. It wasn’t his muscles or his sexy tattoos or his dimpled smile or his cute butt. Not even those stormy eyes that speak volumes when he’s saying nothing at all.

  It was just him.

  “Nice day to be outside painting,” he says quietly.

  I nod. “Yes, it is. What can I
do for you?”

  He glances around, obviously uncomfortable. I wait for him to speak.

  “I need to ask you a favor,” he begins, looking at me directly now. “I know you saw me with that woman at the restaurant. I need to ask that you don’t tell anyone about that.”

  I swallow the icky lump in my throat and turn back to my easel. “No offense, but I don’t make a habit of discussing your dating life, Colton. Do what you want.”

  He glances around again, as if he half-expects someone to be listening from behind a tree. “It wasn’t what it looked like. She’s… she’s a friend.”

  I shrug. “Friends are nice.”

  Now he seems unsure what to say, and I’m confused as well. What does he think I’m going to do, stand on top of a table at The Dirty during lunch rush and shout that he was on a date with a woman? As if I care. As if anyone cares.

  “It’s just… I know you talk to Vivi, and she’s with Freddy, and things can get around, even when it’s not intended. If you said something, even by accident, there could be problems. We—I really wasn’t expecting to run into anyone I knew there that night.”

  I look back and meet his stare dead on. “Apparently I keep seeing things I shouldn’t. What, is she married or something?”

  My statement seems to catch him by surprise. He shifts his weight and glances around again, then takes a deep breath.

  “But don’t worry,” I finish. “Your secret is safe with me.”

  “Thanks,” he mumbles. He turns to leave, then hesitates. “Mind if I see what you’re working on so intently there?”

  “I’d rather you didn’t—” But he’s already stepped around me to take a look. He just stands there and stares.

  The knots in my stomach clench tighter as I study his face. I haven’t shown anyone any of my paintings in years.

  “Holy shit,” he says. He continues to stare, and I continue to stand there not breathing.

  Finally he turns and looks at me in total astonishment. “Wow… you did that? That’s… wow.”

  A small voice inside me squeaks out, “Thanks.”

  He continues to gape, shaking his head. “This is really good. I’m impressed… I had no idea…”

  “I just like to do it for fun,” I say, almost shyly. For some crazy reason it’s almost more nerve-racking to hear him actually praising my work.

  “You have real talent,” he murmurs. “That’s really rare. I’m really amazed.”

  I gulp. “Thanks,” I say again.

  “How much?”

  “Huh?”

  “How much you want for it? I’ll buy it.”

  “What? It’s not for sale.”

  “Why not?”

  “Why not? Because… because it’s just a hobby. I’m not a professional. I don’t sell my artwork.”

  “Why not?” he repeats. He gives me a sinful grin that makes my insides melt. “Name your price. I want it.”

  “You do?”

  He nods. “I told you this is my favorite part of the property, and you somehow managed to make it even more incredible. I want it.”

  I look at the painting for a while, and then back at him. “I’m not selling it to you.”

  His eyes darken.

  I shake my head and look down at my feet. “I can’t sell it to you…” Then I take a deep breath. “But I will give it to you.” I look up, and he’s in complete shock.

  “Nah, I insist on paying—”

  “No, I insist. It would feel weird, selling this piece to you. You helped inspire me to want to paint it in the first place. And besides—” I glance away from his penetrating gaze. “—You’ve been so cool letting me drive your truck and your car around this past month. It’s really the least I can do.”

  A slow grin spreads over his face. “You got yourself a deal. But just so we’re clear, I’m the one getting the better end of this bargain.”

  For the first time in a long while we exchange easy smiles, and the mood between us feels almost relaxed. Friendly.

  So of course I have to ruin it.

  “Why did you say you were sorry?” I blurt out as he starts to turn away to head back to his place.

  He stops, but doesn’t answer. I know he knows what I’m talking about, but he’s going to make me spell it out.

  “That night, in your room. Why were you sorry for kissing me?”

  The energy between us drastically shifts. He looks at me, and I see the fire slowly building in his eyes again. He seems to be choosing his words carefully.

  “I wasn’t apologizing for kissing you,” he says finally. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since the first time I laid eyes on you, and every day since then.”

  I think I’ve stopped breathing again.

  “I was apologizing because you were kissing me.”

  “What?” I whisper “That doesn’t even make sense.”

  He clenches his jaw. “Yeah, it does.”

  In the blink of an eye he shifts again. “I’ll let you get back to it then… thanks for your discretion about the other evening, and for the painting. I’m eager to see it in my place.”

  “I’ll drop it off tomorrow,” I murmur to his retreating back.

  Chapter 21.

  For the first time in a long time, I’m getting ready to go out and have some fun. I put on a pair of tight sexy jeans, a white silky tank top, and some black high-heeled boots. Then I smudge on a little more makeup than I normally wear, lining my eyes in kohl and my lips in a muted red. I had left my long hair completely down for a change, curled it, and even put on some earrings. It is Saturday night after all. And I am a single girl going out to a bar. Time to meet some other men in this town. Men who aren’t named Colton Lassiter.

  As I make my way through Sweet Oak, I realize that I honestly can’t remember another time I’ve done something like this… gone out on my own, without Stacia or Brandon or some other friend by my side. I’m twenty-four years old… soon to be twenty-five. And I’m just now realizing how sheltered and protected many aspects of my life have always been. This is a huge step outside my comfort zone, and I’m not sure I like it.

  But I do know one thing… I feel more charged up, more alive right now, tonight, driving through this quaint Southern town in this giant ol’ pickup truck, than I ever felt before back home. Everything there was so safe and predictable. For the most part. But here, it’s like someone dumped a big bucket of ice water on my head and woke me up.

  I park in the lot next to the Dirty South, and almost immediately spot Colton’s truck. My chest tightens. For some reason it didn’t even cross my mind that he’d be here tonight. Maybe he’s not at the bar. Maybe he’s just eating dinner.

  Yeah, right.

  On the side of the building is a door that leads directly to the bar, and I make my way toward it. A classic rock song is blaring from inside, and several people are hanging out on the patio, drinking and smoking and having a good time. A few guys are standing around in a group by the entrance, and I notice them watching me as I walk up. One guy smiles and says hi. I nod politely and hurry through the doors. I hope I find Vivi right away.

  Inside the music is louder, and it’s more crowded than I expected. It’s barely eight o’clock but already the place is hopping. California outlawed smoking in bars and restaurants years ago, but the South has no such restrictions. It’s not too terrible though, as most of the smokers seem to have gathered outside. But a few are inside, hanging around at one end of the long, wooden bar. I go to the other end and take a seat, and look around for Vivi.

  My nerves are pretty wired right now. I wave my hand to get the attention of the bartender, a pretty black girl with long, straight hair almost to her waist, but she’s busy chatting up a cute guy at the other end of the bar. I sigh and turn back to the main room. Suddenly my gaze falls on Colton. And then on the girl standing beside him.

  He stares at me for a moment, then tightens his arm around the petite brunette’s waist. She turns and presses herself against him,
and he whispers something in her ear. She looks up and gives a little pout, and then reluctantly disengages and wanders back into the crowd.

  “Didn’t expect to see you here,” he says. “First time?”

  I just give him a disdainful glance. I’m not a jealous person, but seeing him with another girl, and then having him try to talk to me is mildly annoying.

  “You’re here alone.” It’s more of a statement than a question.

  I shake my head. “I’m meeting Vivi. She’s supposed to be here at eight.” I glance at my watch. It’s already ten after.

  He raises his arm and flicks his wrist, and as if by magic the young bartender, who must have eyes in the back of her head, turns and flashes him a smile. She sashays over to us.

  “What’re you havin’?” Colton asks me.

  I blank out. “Uh… a white wine spritzer?”

  He shakes his head. “Aw, hell no. Get her a Triple Dirty, Marlena, and I’ll have my usual.”

  She gives a sexy wink and turns back to the beer well.

  I glare at Colton out of the corner of my eye. I’m almost afraid to ask. “What’s a Triple Dirty?”

  He smirks and nods to a few guys who walk by.

  “It’s the Dirty South house special,” he says, turning back to me. “Every first timer has to drink it. It’s tradition.”

  “But what’s in it—”

  “Here y’all are.” Marlena sets down a frothy mug of beer for Colton, and what looks like a multi-layered cocktail of peach and orange and clear liquid in front of me. I eye it warily and catch his amused grin.

  “Careful with that, darlin’. It’ll put hair on your chest.”

  “Ew. What, you think I can’t handle my liquor?” I ask him, raising my eyebrows. “I’ll have you know I went to college. Twice!”

  I pick up my glass and clank it against his beer mug. He fixes his steely blue eyes on me as I raise the glass to my mouth. But before it even reaches my lips, the pungent smell of whiskey and bourbon reaches my nose, and my throat clenches. I force myself to breathe, and take a respectable sip.

  The moment the potent concoction enters my mouth it’s all I can do to swallow normally and not have my eyes pop out of my head. Holy shit this drink is strong! I force it down, and set my glass back on the bar.