Last Chance Beauty Queen

by Hope Ramsay

  Caroline’s appetite for unhealthy food evaporated. She was conflicted six ways to Sunday, wasn’t she?

  “Oh, crap,” Rachel said. “We’ve got trouble.”

  Caroline followed Rachel’s gaze to the front door, and wouldn’t you know it, there stood a trio of ridiculously good-looking men: Dash Randall, Bubba Lockheart, and his Lordship, Baron Woolham. Dash in his Wranglers, and Bubba in his mechanic’s uniform, fit right in to the roadhouse décor. But Baron Woolham, dressed in a pair of gray worsted slacks, a Cutter & Buck golf shirt, and tasseled loafers that might have come from Cole Haan, looked a little like Queen Elizabeth at Wrestlemania.

  The hostess led the three men to a table not far away. Boy and howdy, those three guys had sex appeal. In spades.

  Even Bubba, who looked like he’d come from his job at Bill’s Grease Pit via a stop at Dot’s Spot for a beer or two. He wore his dark blue work shirt with his name—Bubba, not Francis or Frank Jr. or any other iteration of his true Christian name—embroidered in bright red thread right above his shirt pocket. The shirt stretched across his broad shoulders and chest. He’d rolled up the sleeves to expose forearms covered with sun-bleached blond hair and a heart-shaped tattoo that said “Rocky.”

  Rachel leaned forward. “Is that guy with Bubba and Dash the baron?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Oh, boy.”

  “Yeah, I know. Look, Rache. Maybe we should go now.” Caroline looked around for their waitress, who had taken that moment to disappear.

  “Uh-oh,” Rachel said, her whisper even more urgent.

  Caroline returned her gaze to the table where the men were sitting just in time to see Baron Woolham unfold all six feet and some inches of his ramrod-straight body from his chair and begin walking—in a stately manner—in their direction.

  Caroline watched him advance and couldn’t help herself. She gave him the once-over gaze, from the tips of his loafers, up his long legs, over his flat stomach and broad shoulders and right up into those incredible whiskey-colored eyes.

  In short, she ogled his Lordship. And she knew better, really. Because Bubba was right there in the room, and Bubba didn’t like her ogling other guys. Not that Bubba had any say in the matter, but that never stopped him from thinking he had a say in the matter.

  So it came as no surprise when Rachel hissed, “Oh, crap, look at Bubba.”

  Caroline tried to do just that, but Baron Woolham had come to a stop right in front of Caroline, blocking her view. His eyes crinkled up at the corners so handsomely. “I’ve been trying to reach you,” he said in his ever-so-polite accent.

  Every atom in Caroline’s system went nuclear. The man was a walking fantasy. He was, in every respect, the complete antithesis of Bubba and Dash. He was not a regular Joe, and Caroline needed to stop letting her hormones run rampant every time he showed up on the scene. It was just plain stupid not to listen to Miriam Randall’s advice about things like this.

  And besides, he was an English aristocrat—completely out of her league.

  “I didn’t hear from you,” his Lordship continued. “Do we have an appointment with your father tomorrow?”

  “I’m working on it. Believe me when I say that he’s not really interested in talking to you.”

  “I see.”

  “I’ll call you in the morning if I have any success.” She managed a little smile, even though she didn’t feel like smiling. What she felt was an odd mixture of sexual attraction for deBracy, irritation at him for being so demanding, and pure panic that Bubba was about to do something Bubba-like.

  Hugh took that moment to study her chest in a rather salacious fashion. She was wearing a perfectly ordinary white golf shirt, buttoned all the way up. There wasn’t even a hint of cleavage. But he looked anyway.

  And for once, she kind of enjoyed being looked at.

  Bubba finally erupted. “Rocky!” he shouted in a too-loud voice that everyone in the restaurant heard. The rest of the patrons stopped eating and turned to watch the latest episode in the Rocky and Bubba Show. Oh great, the last thing she wanted was to make a scene of any kind in a public place.

  Hugh turned around. And Caroline could finally see Bubba again. His face was red, and he was advancing on them in a way that spelled trouble.

  Rachel was practically hyperventilating at this point. Caroline felt like hyperventilating, too.

  “Hey, Bubba,” Caroline said in her calm, cool, professional voice. “How are you? It’s really nice to see you again. Rachel and I were just having our supper.”

  “Hey, Rachel,” Bubba said, giving Caroline’s friend a little nod. Then he turned his sad, moony face on Caroline. “Rocky, you need any help? Because I saw the way this guy was looking at you, and I know how you don’t like that sort of thing.”

  Caroline’s face burned. She’d been caught red-handed. And Bubba was right. She hated guys who leered at her bustline. But Hugh hadn’t actually leered. And besides, Hugh’s look made her tingle from head to foot.

  She took a deep breath. “No, Bubba, I’m fine, really. Why don’t ya’ll—”

  “I need to get home,” Rachel announced in a firm voice. “And Rocky is driving. Come on, Rocky, we need to go.” Rachel stood up and headed across the room toward the cashier, leaving two plates of half-eaten hash on the table.

  God bless Rachel. She knew how to make an exit when it was required. Caroline gave Bubba a big, phony grin. “Well, Bubba, it was nice seeing you. But I gotta get Rachel home.” Caroline took a step forward in the direction of the cashier.

  “Don’t go, please.” Bubba’s words were practically a whine. He grabbed Caroline by her left wrist and yanked her back.

  Caroline didn’t think about avoiding a scene or being careful when hot pain radiated from her shoulder joint. Instead, she reacted on pure instinct. She swung with her right fist, aiming for Bubba’s nose, just like she had learned in the self-defense classes she’d taken last year down at the Columbia YMCA.

  Thank goodness she missed her target. Bubba got the message, though. He staggered back and let go of her wrist.

  So everything was good. All she had to do was talk Bubba down, and she and Rachel could make an escape without making a big scene.

  And then Lord Woolham decided to play hero.

  It happened so fast, Caroline was powerless to stop it. His Lordship assumed a fighting stance, and when Bubba took a step forward, Hugh threw a withering, left-handed punch that put Bubba on the floor. No muss, no fuss, no heavy breathing, or sweaty brows. No broken tables.

  Nothing like that.

  Just a James Bond move, and Bubba, the big linebacker and one-time NFL hopeful, was left lying on the floor whimpering. His mouth a big, bloody mess.

  Caroline stood there stunned.

  So it was a good thing that Rachel took charge. She hurried back across the room, fetching one of the patron’s iced tea glasses off a table. She strained the liquid through her fingers onto the floor, got down on her knees, and packed the two teeth Hugh had knocked out of Bubba’s jaw into the ice left in the glass.

  You just had to love Rachel. She always had your back in every life-and-death situation, and she traveled with a first-aid kit in her purse.

  Just then, Earl Williams, the proprietor of the Pig Place, arrived on the scene, shotgun in hand. He took aim at Lord Woolham’s chest. “Don’t move,” he said. “The local law is on its way.”

  CHAPTER

  5

  Caroline probably should have let Stone arrest Lord Woolham. After all, the man had completely overreacted to Bubba’s little power play. And of course, Stone wanted to arrest him, just because Stone was like that. He hated any outsider coming into his town and causing trouble. He’d even arrested Jane that time she showed up with a fake ID.

  But Caroline sweet-talked her policeman brother out of it. She pointed out that Hugh had been trying to protect her, and that arresting him would needlessly complicate an already complicated situation.

  And she promised t
o get Hugh back to Miriam’s.

  In the meantime, Rachel had continued to play Florence Nightingale with a cold compress, while Dash drove Bubba over to the clinic, where Doc Cooper had put in an emergency call to an oral surgeon.

  It had been another truly sordid scene in the Bubba and Rocky Horror Show. And usually, whenever something like this happened, Bubba’s bad behavior was given a pass, while Caroline got blamed for everything.

  It wasn’t fair. But it was the way things were, and no amount of fussing would change things.

  But it was still annoying as hell. Why couldn’t she manage the Bubba situation in a calm and rational manner? After all, she managed difficult and sensitive situations all the time. But every time her path crossed Bubba’s, something awful happened.

  Well, at least this time, it wasn’t entirely her fault. His Lordship was the one who had thrown the punch. It certainly gave her another excuse to be annoyed with him. But of course, she would keep her snotty comments to herself. That was her job.

  “I suppose I ought to apologize. I do hope that prat isn’t your boyfriend,” his Lordship finally said. At least he was contrite.

  “Bubba is not my boyfriend. But I do think you owe him an apology, not me. I had taken care of the situation. Bubba is harmless, really.”

  “You think so? Seems to me he overstepped his welcome, even if he is your boyfriend.”

  “I told you, he’s not my boyfriend. We were together a long time ago. In high school. But it’s over. Bubba thinks we’re going to get back together, but he’s delusional.”

  “He’s got a tattoo of that nickname of yours on his arm.”

  She tried not to cringe. She didn’t know why she felt humiliated by this arrogant man discovering her name. But she did.

  “So you heard about that, huh?” she said.

  “The tattoo or your nickname?”

  She gripped the steering wheel a little harder. “My full name is Sirocco Caroline Rhodes,” she said. “Everyone’s always called me Rocky because I have brothers named Stone, Clay, and Tulane.”

  Silence beat for a moment while his Lordship figured out the joke. He chuckled. “Tulane, huh? Like the one we’re driving on.”

  Well, if she had to endure humiliation for the sake of her job, at least maybe she could use it to some good purpose. “You know, the whole family name thing should give you pause. My kin are eccentric.”

  “Is that why you changed your name?”

  He was kidding, right? Like he didn’t get why she changed her name? Or was he just ridiculing her? She swallowed down her annoyance and spoke in a calm voice. “Lord Woolham, no one takes a person named Rocky Rhodes seriously. Rocky Rhodes is the name of an ice cream flavor, and I work for a senator who might one day run for president.”

  “So why not use Sirocco? It’s a lovely name. Mysterious and foreign. You look rather like a Sirocco.”

  “Mysterious and foreign? Really?”

  “Yes, quite.”

  Wow! In all her born days, no one had ever called her mysterious and foreign. She was a country girl, no matter how hard she tried to hide all that with her business suits. “Uh, well, that’s nice, but no one knows how to spell Sirocco, probably because it’s mysterious and foreign.”

  “I see.”

  “Besides, Sirocco sounds a little self-important, don’t you think? On the other hand, Caroline is a nice, middle-of-the-road, domestic-sounding name. It’s perfect for my career.”

  “And I rather think your career is important to you, isn’t it? Otherwise, you would never have agreed to help me with my factory.”

  She glanced over at him. It wasn’t yet fully dark, and the golden glow of the setting sun caught in the highlights of his curls and lined his profile. He was incredibly handsome.

  She really needed to clear the air, before she did something dumb. “You’re right,” she said in her best senatorial aide voice, “my career is important to me. But I love my family, too. So I will do my best to introduce you to all the important people in Allenberg County, just as you’ve asked me to do. But the thing is, I’m not on your side if it means trying to force my father to sell his land. And besides, Daddy will never sell out. So maybe it’s time for you to rethink the location of your factory.”

  “And I told you I was not willing to do that.”

  She gritted her teeth. The man was used to getting his way, wasn’t he? “Okay, I understand. But you’re not going to win on this point. You can’t convince Daddy to sell, and if you try to push the issue, the church ladies of the Committee to Resurrect Golfing for God are going to tar and feather you.”

  “I can handle churchwomen.”

  She stifled a snort of laughter. Hugh deBracy had no idea what he was up against. It might be fun to watch Hettie and her minions take him apart piece by piece.

  Caroline pulled into Miriam Randall’s driveway, just as the daylight had faded to dusk. “Here we are, Lord Woolham. I’ll give you a call in the morning when I get a better sense of our schedule. I don’t think we’ll have anything on the agenda until midmorning at the earliest.” She set the parking brake.

  “Are you going to schedule a meeting with these church ladies who want to save the golf course?”

  “Absolutely. The Committee to Resurrect Golfing for God always meets on Friday at noontime at the Cut ’n Curl. I have no doubt they’ll want to meet you. They are all pretty curious.”

  “Curious about me?”

  “Yes. You see, they read a lot of regency romances. And they all watched the royal wedding together over at Thelma Hanks’s house. They’re still talking about the breakfast kippers she served that morning.”

  “I see.”

  “I’m sure I can get you on the agenda for tomorrow’s meeting. Momma owns the Cut ’n Curl. I have an in.” She gave Hugh one of her best professional smiles.

  It was as phony as a three-dollar bill.

  He turned in his seat and studied her for a long, breathless moment. No doubt he was thinking about her lowly station in life, the daughter of a hairdresser and a putt-putt owner. Well, he could just fry in hell for all she cared. She kept her grin steady.

  After a long moment, he said, “I get the distinct feeling that you are trying to deliver me to the lions, Miss Rhodes.”

  “I’m doing no such thing. Meeting with the members of the Committee to Resurrect Golfing for God is one way to get your opposition in a single room. After all, didn’t you just say that you knew how to handle churchwomen?”

  “I suppose I did say that.”

  “And I pointed out that it was hopeless. And I’m trying, with great professional patience, to show you the error in your thinking. You aren’t going to build that factory on my daddy’s land.”

  “I suppose you wouldn’t appreciate it if I told Senator Warren that you weren’t being helpful.”

  The bottom of her stomach dropped a couple of inches. This was her biggest fear—that Lord Woolham would say something to Senator Warren, and her boss would suddenly realize that Caroline wasn’t up to the task of being his main administrative assistant in Washington.

  “No, Lord Woolham, I wouldn’t appreciate you calling the senator and saying things like that. The fact is, I’ve been very helpful. I’m introducing you around. I’m helping you to see the facts. And I talked my brother out of arresting you tonight.”

  “Yes, you did, didn’t you?” He said the words in his stuffy accent as if he didn’t really appreciate the fact that she’d pulled out all the stops for him. Her brother could be kind of serious-minded.

  She held her tongue. There were any number of choice things she could think of saying, but none of them would be acceptable. He was going to really screw up her life, wasn’t he?

  Lord Woolham opened the passenger side door and stepped out into the hot and humid night. The porch light burned brightly, silhouetting him as he walked toward the old house. He was tall and well built, and arrogant as the day was long.

  She hated him.


  Hugh strolled down the walk toward Miriam Randall’s boardinghouse, trying not to be amused by the gravel Caroline had kicked up with her sudden, ferocious departure.

  Granddad certainly wouldn’t have been amused. Granddad had been grumpy and unpleasant and often quite mean to people. Granddad would have called the senator by now and demanded that Caroline be removed from her job.

  But of course, Hugh had no intention of calling the senator and complaining. A complaint might just unsettle things further. The pixie-like Miss Rhodes would definitely fight for her job, and in the process, she might discover how flimsy his financing was. And then where would he be?

  No, it was best to let things lie and see what the senator’s dishy aide could come up with as a solution. He was getting the feeling she was actually quite competent at her job.

  She had done a marvelous job of sweet-talking that copper out of arresting him. And really, he had seriously overreacted this evening. Given all of that, Caroline had been remarkably civil and helpful. That wouldn’t have mattered to Granddad, of course. Granddad was a terrible snob—he would have looked right through a working-class girl like Caroline and steamrollered over her and her father’s golf course.

  And that, in a nutshell, was the difference between Hugh and his granddad.

  He stepped up on a creaky porch step. The old Victorian home was just a little shabby—kind of like Woolham House, although on a much smaller scale. He reached the top step and realized that he wasn’t alone.

  A little white-haired lady sat rocking patiently on the porch. “Good evening,” he said in his best public school voice. “You must be Miriam Randall. I’ve heard a great deal about you.”

  “Sit down and visit a spell. It’s Hugh, isn’t it?” She gestured toward an adjoining rocker.

  Granddad would have sniffed at this woman using his first name. But Hugh kind of liked the fact that she’d been so familiar.

  And besides, he was in a different land, with different mores, and he’d gotten into quite a bit of mischief. So he sat in the rocker and rested his head against its back. His companion kept up her steady motion, an old floorboard protesting with each transit of the rocker. The sound of the squeaky board provided a counterpoint to the buzz of insects and the deeper song of the frogs.