by S. E. Babin
Her gaze fell to my feet and just as she was about to frown, I jumped in. "Just for a little while," I announced. "I'll put heels on right now if you want me to."
Her lips pursed as she studied me. "No. You don't have to. Just make sure you have them on half an hour before people are scheduled to arrive.
Oh, thank goodness.
I was wearing the torture devices and every step felt like I was being bitten by an angry chihuahua. A pinch here, a pinch there, stupid high heel pinches everywhere. For the most part, I was used to them. In most of my roles, I'd been forced to wear shoes very similar to these, so I'd practiced keeping a smile on, even as I felt my toes slide somewhere into ‘are they still there’ territory.
The first guests arrived ten minutes later.
The caterers had quietly come in and set up everything outside due to a lack of space inside. Everything was kept warm and covered, but extension cords stretched all the way to the house. I had to remember not to trip on those.
The first people to come into the house were armed.
I don't mean armed with witty words or beautiful flowers, or even a bottle of wine. They were armed with guns. Very big ones. They carried them in like it was no big deal and while I looked around for a sheriff or any kind of law enforcement assistance, they stepped right around me and continued in like it was no big deal.
As I looked around for Emma to tell her that possible assassins had entered her home, I saw her rush up, open her arms, and embrace the mercenaries like they were family.
As she noticed me gaping at them, she motioned me over. "Candy! Come meet my brother!"
I wanted to do no such thing, but I had to. She was paying me. I put my game face on, added a little extra Candy slither to my step, and stopped in front of them. I held my hand out, hoping I wouldn't get shot as they shifted around, and introduced myself.
"She's Chase's girlfriend," Emma added with an extra emphasis on the word girl.
There were four of them and all had more facial hair than a conference full of hipsters. The first one looked a little bit like Emma. He put out a paw the size of a grizzly and engulfed my hand in his warm one. He shook it like an angry pit bull, then studied me for a little too long before he spoke.
"You look a little high maintenance for this crowd."
The smile froze on my face and my thoughts whirred as I tried to think of a Candy appropriate slither. "Well," I finally said, "sometimes you just find yourself slumming and have no idea why."
Instead of being offended, the armed mountain man chortled like I'd just told the best joke of the century. The three other hairy men followed in his stead until I started to laugh, too. Even though I'd just insulted them.
This family was weird.
Emma introduced the rest of them to me: Jethro, the brother, and his three sons Jake, Billy, and Marco. One of my eyebrows rose at the name Marco and Emma glared at me.
She leaned over and softly whispered in my ear. "The rumor is Shelly, Jethro's wife, took a liking to one of those highfalutin bank managers down there in Asheville. She denies it, of course, but if you look close enough, Marco has green eyes." She sniffed. “Ain’t none of us got green eyes."
I didn't think it was an appropriate time to have a discussion about recessive genes. Or infidelity. "So, since you haven't mentioned it, I assume it's appropriate to carry guns like that?"
Emma laughed. "Around here it is. But today it's legal. Tomorrow might be a problem."
Her announcement confused me. "Why tomorrow?"
"Because you can't open carry at a funeral."
"Huh. The things you learn." I never became too familiar with the gun laws in North Carolina simply because I never planned to carry a weapon, but I had no idea people could openly carry guns like that. "It isn't strange to you that they're walking around with rifles slung across their shoulders?"
She patted my arm. "Welcome to the McCormick family, honey. You never know when you're going to step outside and see a potential dinner."
She left me standing there with my mouth dropped open.
Thankfully, the next round of people to come in weren't carrying weapons. They were, however, laden with casseroles and salads and wine, and basically everything a good southern wake needed. Even though I got some cross eyed stares at my attire, no one openly challenged me until a senior citizen couple came in.
The older woman took one look at me and gasped. Before I could spin on my heel and leave, she grabbed me by the arm and asked me where my mama was.
I laughed but at her glare, I realized she wasn't being funny. "Erm, my mother isn't here ma'am." I tried to extricate my arm, but she had a grip like a hawk holding a mouse.
"You're dressed like a hussy," she hissed.
I looked around for a savior, but there was none to be had. "I'm...sorry?" I ventured.
She scoffed. "Go home and change."
She still hadn't let go of my arm. "I'm afraid I can't, Mrs….?”
"McCormick."
Oh no. Was she the grandmother? Fortunately, right as I was about to beg her forgiveness, Emma rushed over and made the old woman relinquish her talon-like grip on me. "Mom! You can't grab people like that."
"I'm 84 years old. I can do whatever I choose."
Emma let out a frustrated snort. "Mom, leave Candy alone."
The woman adjusted the massive, magnified frames on her face. "That isn't Candy," she snapped.
Emma's eyes widened slightly before she let out a hardy laugh that sounded just a teeny bit forced. "What are you talking about? Of course, she is."
"Hmmph." She leaned in closer and peered at me. Her glasses were so huge they made her eyes look like an insect. The elderly Mrs. McCormick lowered her voice. "I don't know what kind of game you're playing here, Emma, but that is most certainly not Candy."
"How would you know?" Emma snapped.
"Because she hit me up for money two weeks before Chase died," she said.
Emma's inhaled gasp was sharp and loud and caught the attention of several people next to us.
"That is not funny," Emma hissed. She reached to take her mother-in-law’s arm, but the old woman wasn't having any of it.
"Good because I'm not in a kidding mood. Chase's little hussy waltzed herself right into our store and asked us for money, so she and Chase could start planning their wedding."
Emma's face turned bone white. "Mom."
This senior citizen was sharp as a tack. I leaned in and spoke quietly. "You're right. I'm here under Emma's employment. You'll only see me today and at the funeral. I promise I won't ask you for any money."
She tilted her head and studied me. "You're prettier than that wretch," she said. "Your face isn't as pinched, and you don't look like you've taken any of that wacky weed lately."
Emma rolled her eyes and groaned. "Please let me get you some food. You seem...like your blood sugar is out of whack."
"The only thing out of whack is your brain for thinking Candy actually wanted to marry your son."
The blow struck true. Emma gasped and tears formed in the corners of her eyes.
I gave Emma a sympathetic look while simultaneously admiring her ability to still call the woman “mom” after a shot like that. I took the elderly woman's elbow. "How would you like a glass of wine?" I asked as I led her off.
"I have a flask in my purse. When you're as old as I am, wine doesn't do the trick anymore."
After settling Emma's mother-in-law into a chair by the window and finding her husband, I waded through the room of people trying to find Emma. That was a cruel blow she took, and I wanted to make sure she was all right. But as I passed family and friends, I overheard something that made me pause. When I looked back, there were two women and a man with their heads bowed whispering about Chase's money.
I snagged another glass of wine off one of the beverage tables and discreetly made my way back to where they were. I passed by once - slowly, but I could only make out snippets of their conversation.
&nb
sp; "I heard he'd been saving for years," one of them, a blonde, said.
"He never gave Mom a dime of it," said the other. I studied this woman. She was tall and brunette, and I immediately recognized her from the folder I'd been given at the agency. She was Emma's daughter.
Why were they talking about his money, especially at the wake? I took a sip of wine and pretended to be nonchalant, but I felt their eyes on me, so I glided past as casually as I could.
I waited a moment or two and was just about to go back over there when something caught my eye.
Or...someone.
I lurched forward, sloshing wine in my glass as I strained to see. There was no way the person who just walked in the door was actually the person I thought I saw. I stood on my tiptoes and did my best, but by now the room was so crowded I couldn't see over anyone's head.
"Crud," I muttered as I tried to politely push my way through. I could see the sandy blond head bobbing as it made its way through the crowd. All at once I felt elated, then angry, then sick, then dizzy. No way. It couldn't be him. The head disappeared just as I was about to push through. I looked around wildly, but I'd lost him.
I was just about to go around a group of people when I felt a warm touch at my elbow. I turned.
"Hello, Kitty Crawford," said the man standing in front of me.
Seth. Morrow. In the flesh. I wanted to scream.
"Fancy seeing you here," he continued.
I could not let him mess this up for me. I leaned in, doing my best to ignore the crisp scent of his cologne and the tanned juncture of his throat. "I am here incognito," I whispered. "My name is Candy. Do not screw this up for me."
I pulled back and watched as the area between his brows knit together. "Candy." He rolled the name across his tongue like it was literally sweet. "Nice name."
"What are you doing here?" I asked him even as I looked for an exit. I didn't care why he was here, I just wanted to get away from him.
"I'm back here researching for a role." He leaned in this time, but instead of being polite, he inhaled deeply. “Or perhaps I’m here to pay you back for screwing it up for me.”
I glared at him, spun on my heel, and walked away. I did not have time to deal with Seth Morrow. Something smelled funny with Chase McCormick and I wanted to find out what it was.
7
Seth’s words rankled way more than I wanted to admit to myself. He was right. I had screwed it up for him, but not as much as I screwed it up for myself. My hands shook as I lifted my wine glass to take a fortifying sip. It was the incident. The one I never thought I was going to have to face again.
I was paired up with Seth for a guest role in a popular soap-opera. I was playing the woman who’d gotten away from him. The night before he’d shown up to the trailer they’d given me to go over the lines for the next day. Everything was fine until it wasn’t.
We were rehearsing, and we had a scene where we had to kiss. I recommended we skip over it and wait until the next day. I was a prude and had never had to smooch on camera before. Plus, Seth was the most handsome man I’d ever seen in my entire life. What could I say? I was nervous. Very nervous.
Seth had given me a penetrating stare and challenged me. He asked me what I was afraid of. So...I did it. And it turned into something a lot more heated than just a required kiss.
He’d abruptly left my trailer and when I saw him on set the next day, I went right up to him and tried to talk to him about it.
Except...Seth was wearing a mic. Something I would have known if I hadn’t been so green to show business.
Several people, including his current girlfriend, heard my grandiose speech about the incident and how I was attracted to him, and didn’t we think we owed it to ourselves to give it the old college try?
I leaned against the wall, trying to shut my thoughts off, but all I could see was the horror written all over his face during my heartfelt, ridiculous soliloquy. Moments later, vicious, cunning Stephanie Allred, Seth’s girlfriend, came rushing out screaming and yelling at both of us.
I was escorted back to the trailer and promptly fired for being a “distraction”. I later heard Seth received nothing more than pitying looks. As I was escorted off the set, one of the guards told me not to worry about it. It happened all the time. Seth had something of a reputation with the ladies.
It only served to make it worse for me. I waited a full week before I started going out on auditions again, but everyone turned me away. Although I wasn’t a big name, the incident had made some of the gossip rags and named me as “unidentified desperate girl”. Meanwhile, Seth’s star only rose higher and mine dwindled and crashed into the Earth with barely a sound.
I just needed to get through the next few hours. I was a master at avoidance tactics. I could do this. The crowd was large enough to blend into and, if I had to, I could retreat to my room for a little while.
Emma found me a few minutes later. “Candy?” she inquired, concern in her eyes.
“Oh, hi!” I waved my wine glass at her. “Sorry. I saw someone I know and it threw me off a little bit.”
“Here?”
I laughed a little bit. “Of all the places, right?”
“It’s a small world.” She leaned against the wall. “Everyone here is both shocked and delighted by you. The women can’t help but tear you apart and the men want to date you.” Emma beamed at me. “This is working out way better than I anticipated.”
I was glad, but I was feeling a little objectified right now. “How much longer until I can get out of these shoes?”
“I’d say you have at least two hours before everyone has had enough beer or wine to stop caring.”
“Great.”
She winked at me. “We’re going to sit down in a little while and let people talk. You can hide out in the kitchen if you want, at least for a little while, but I hope you’ve prepared something. I’d give it about an hour before you’re up.”
“Prepared something?” I asked weakly.
Emma gave me a hard stare. “Yes. The girlfriend of the deceased usually speaks at these things. Is this something you needed to be told?”
I stood a little straighter and began to prepare a speech in my head. “Ha,” I laughed, though it didn’t sound very convincing. “I have a little something written down. I was just kidding.”
“Mmm,” she said. “Don’t let me down.”
“Never,” I promised.
As soon as she walked away, I let out a little mewl of distress.
“Problems?” A voice at my elbow said.
I jumped. Seth had crept up on me like a ninja.
“No. Everything is wonderful.”
A knowing smirk lit his face. “Every good actor has a speech up his sleeve at any given time.”
I stiffened. Like I needed him to lecture me about good acting. “Really? And a good exit strategy, too?”
Seth’s smirk froze on his face. Wariness crept into his gaze. “Are we going to do this right now?”
“No, we aren’t.” I went to step out in the crowd, but Seth put out a hand to stop me.
“Look, let’s call a truce. I’ll help you prepare a short speech and then leave you alone.”
“Why would I want your help with anything?”
“Because I saw the look of sheer panic on your face when you realized you hadn’t even thought about what you were going to say.”
I glared at Seth.
“Come on,” he said and tugged my hand. “Five minutes. That’s all.”
We were outside on the side of the house at a tiny table that looked like it had seen better days. Seth was just as handsome as I remembered and my hand still tingled where he’d touched it.
“Why are you really here?” I asked him.
“My aunt lives here. I talk to her about once a week and when I told her what kind of role I was playing, she invited me back here and gave me some lead-ins on funerals.”
My brow furrowed. “Exactly what kind of role are you playing?�
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“A grieving brother bent on revenge on the people who took his family away.”
“Ah,” I said. “You had to research in Marshall?”
A smile quirked his mouth. “She’s in the funeral business,” he said. “It seemed easier than trying to set it up somewhere.” He leaned closer. “Plus, the movie is filming in Charlotte.” Seth shrugged. “It worked out perfectly.”
According to him, it had. The jury was still out on that one for me. I changed the subject. “I need a two to three-minute speech about the deceased.”
Seth’s knowing smile irked me. “Who are you supposed to be?”
“His girlfriend.”
He winced. “You can talk about how much you loved him. How special he made you feel. Pet names he had for you. How you first met. Any of those things sound appropriately emotional.”
I thought about the things Emma had told me. I could come up with something. “Easy enough.”
He nodded. “Now run it by me. If you get stuck, you can bow your head and pretend you can’t control your emotions. It works every time.”
I ran a quick speech past him, including some crocodile tears. When I was finished, Seth clapped slowly. “Good for a first attempt. But you need more quiver in your voice.”
Rolling my eyes, I did it again, this time adding a quake in at the emotional points.
Seth stood and bowed. ”My work here is done.” He tapped the table twice and right before he turned to head back into the house he said, “By the way, Aunt Ruthie said to tell you hello.” He flashed a knowing little grin at me before he turned around.
That meddling, nosy old biddy had set me up! No wonder she’d pried so much about Seth during the interview. My ears felt like a steam locomotive and I knew without even glancing in the mirror that my face was firecracker red. Part of me wanted to quit, part of me wanted to call Ruthie up and give her a piece of my mind, but the calm, evil side of my personality wanted to make sure I did the best possible job I could possibly do so I could rub it in her face.
