Southern Love

by Synithia Williams

  “No matter what, you’re never going to approve of me,” she said quietly.

  Marcella scoffed. “Quit being overdramatic, Shayla. It’s not like I haven’t tried to find the good. Your bad keeps coming through.”

  “I am not a bad person.”

  “No, but you’ve got bad genes.” Marcella marched toward the door.

  Shayla moved out of the way. Tears burned the back of her eyes, but she refused to shed them. She’d cried over her mom’s lack of affection for too long. The first few months after leaving Helena, when she’d call home from Spelman, she’d cried every time her mom hurried off the phone or quickly passed it to Kenny. The illusion that life in Helena was getting better was just that: an illusion. She could go to church every Sunday, raise money for ever orphan in South Carolina, and remain celibate for the rest of her life; her mom’s feelings wouldn’t change.

  Marcella left without another word. The screen door slammed. Shayla flinched. She had to leave town. There was nothing for her here. There’s Devin, she thought. With a shake of her head she pushed that thought away. Would having him make living here better? Would it really lessen the pain of knowing her family would ostracize her forever? And would he even want to be with her forever? Sure, there was something between them, but that could be leftovers from pent up adolescent longing. She would further degrade herself in her mom’s eyes only to have their relationship fizzle after six months or a year. No other guy stayed around that long. Why would he be any different?

  Chapter 24

  Shayla increased her job hunting efforts the next morning. She hounded her friends in Atlanta for any word on potential jobs. She followed up every lead she’d found when she first started looking. Her fingers flew over her keyboard all day, and the librarian gave her a few dirty looks whenever she made phone calls from the corner of the library she’d made into her own personal office over the past few weeks.

  Her cell phone rang; breaking the peaceful silence once again. The librarian walked by and scrunched her nose like bird at Shayla, who quickly picked up her phone. She didn’t recognize the number.

  “Shayla Monroe?” a calm male voice said on the other end.

  “Yes, this is Shayla Monroe.”

  “Hi, I’m Bentley Prill with G and N Solutions. You submitted a resume to us a few weeks ago and I’d like to schedule an interview.”

  She looked up and said a silent “thank you”. It wasn’t out of state as she hoped, but G and N Solutions was a well established marketing and public relations firm in Columbia. Working with them would go a long way toward redeeming herself professionally.

  “That sounds great,” she said.

  “Spectacular. Can you come to our office this Wednesday at three?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll see you then.”

  They ended the call and Shayla kicked her feet. “Yes, yes, yes!”

  The librarian shushed her, but she didn’t care. Finally, there was light at the end of the tunnel, and a way out of Helena. She checked the time on her phone. The festival committee was meeting tonight. Halloween was two weeks away, and the call was fate. She — hopefully — would get the job and leave town with some repair to her reputation if the festival went well. She grinned and packed up her laptop.

  She smiled the entire way to her car and on the drive to the church. She hadn’t seen Devin since leaving him on Sunday. No need to lie, part of her smile was from the anticipation of seeing him again. She’d decided after Marcella left to enjoy every minute of her secret affair. Forget being guilty about seeing him. Whether they were together or not it wouldn’t change anything between her and her mom. She would continue to keep their relationship a secret to avoid hurting Kia.

  She pulled into the church’s parking lot at the same time as Devin. Her grin widened when he parked his truck in the space beside her. Their gazes locked though the window and her smile softened, remembering their last time together. The corner of his mouth lifted in an answering smile that sent ripples of anticipation down her spine. Maybe another trip to the pond behind his dad’s house was in order.

  They got out at the same time. She leaned against the front of her car and he came over to stand beside her. He looked at her with a mixture of desire and wariness. He had no reason to be unsure. She had no intentions of changing her mind about them.

  “Hi,” she said.

  He leaned next to her on the car. “Hello.” He nodded toward the church. “Ready for the interrogation?”

  Her smile faded and her gaze slid from his. “What interrogation?”

  “My dad’s already asked if you’re the reason I hit Tony Saturday night. I doubt Reverend Jenkins will say anything, but you can be sure Martha will.”

  “Why does everyone assume it had something to do with us?”

  He bumped her shoulder with his. When she looked up he raised a brow. “Because it did.”

  “We’re not together.” When he scowled she hurried to clarify. “Around them, we’re not together. Make up some reason for fighting Tony, other than me. I’m sure it won’t be hard.”

  His body was tense as he straightened from the car. “I didn’t have a reason to fight Tony for years, now I suddenly have to make up some offense.”

  “It might not come up.”

  “Or,” He shoved his hands into the pocket of his pants. “We could tell them I hit him because he insulted you.”

  “No, Devin, please.”

  His eyes narrowed. “But I won’t. I’ll make up something, since we’re not together.” He turned to walk away, but halted and looked back at her. “If you’d like to have sex, we can meet at the hotel off the interstate exit around midnight. I doubt anyone would see us.” His voice was hard and accusing. His gaze raked over her body before he turned and stormed off.

  Hurt and humiliation clogged her throat. He reminded her of Mark. It hurt because she was the reason he did it. There was more to their relationship than sex. A lot more, but why expect him to treat her like more than a fling? She’d made it clear that she didn’t plan to stay in Helena. That didn’t mean he had to be so clinical about it. How hard could this be on him, really? She would expect him to view their arrangement as a win.

  But, Devin wasn’t that type of man. He was more open and honest than anyone she knew. It wasn’t in his nature to hide his intentions. She was the one asking him to go against his nature.

  She trailed behind him into the church basement. Most of the committee was already there. They were huddled at a table looking at something. When she came through the door, all conversation ceased as they turned to look at her. The looks ranged from accusing, to pitying, to disbelief. The only one that mattered was Devin’s. Annoyance flashed in his eyes as he stared at her.

  She slowly walked over to the table. “What’s going on?”

  Reverend and Mrs. Jenkins exchanged glances. Mr. Porter glared at her while Roxanne shook her head slightly.

  Martha looked at everyone expectantly, before picking up a sheet of paper and shoving it in Shayla’s direction. “They’re just reading what I found on the internet today.”

  Shayla took the paper and sighed. She didn’t look at it, just glowered at Martha. “Let me guess, another article about what happened in Atlanta. I’ve already explained, and I won’t let you dump it over my head every time someone decides to stir up old nonsense.”

  Roscoe leaned back in his chair. He looked at Shayla with sad eyes. “It’s not about Atlanta.”

  Frowning, Shayla looked at the paper. It was a print out of an article on a blog site. There was a picture of her standing next to Tyrell Crawford at the art show. They were smiling at each other before the beach house picture. A large caption read “Atlanta Home-wrecker Sets Eyes on Politician’s Son.” Her eyes scanned the paper, not really ingesting the words but getting the gist. Someone
at the party made broad assumptions that her quick conversation with the artist was about more than his work. References to the fact that he never smiles so “warmly” with others, or laughs out loud combined with the fact that she had a history of seeking out married men automatically put them together.

  She looked up from the paper at Devin. “You don’t believe this?”

  Martha spoke up. “It doesn’t matter what we believe. What matters is the perception of the church. We can’t have you heading up our festival if you’re going to be seeing a married man.”

  Shayla glared at the woman. “I’m not seeing a married man.”

  Martha snorted and turned up her nose. “But you have.”

  Reverend Jenkins held up a hand. “That’s enough, Martha.” He walked over to Shayla. “Is there anything between you and this man?”

  Shayla met the Reverend’s stare dead on. “No. That was the first time I met him.”

  Martha walked over and practically bumped the reverend out of her way with her massive hips. “But you went there to see him. My daughter is friends with your cousin Kia, and she told us both that you were going there specifically to see Tyrell.”

  Shayla rolled her eyes. “Do you hear yourself? You sound like a teenager with your ‘he said, she said’.”

  Devin walked over to Shayla’s side. “Let’s calm down. Shayla said she didn’t go to the art show to seek him out and I believe her. This blog doesn’t give any specifics or details of anything, just smiling and rumors about Shayla’s past. We don’t have to kick her off the committee.”

  Martha huffed. “I’d expect you to say that. She’s got her hooks in you, too.”

  Once again Reverend Jenkins held up a hand. “That’s enough, Martha.”

  Martha opened her mouth to speak when the door to the church basement opened again. Shayla bit back a groan when her mom came through the door. There was no reason for Marcella to be here except to check in and make sure Shayla wasn’t causing any more problems.

  Marcella’s smile was stiff as she greeted everyone before walking over to stand between Shayla and Devin. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your meeting, but Shayla got a package today and I couldn’t wait to tell her.”

  “Mom, this couldn’t wait until I got home?”

  Marcella shook her head. “Not when you hear who it’s from.” She looked to the rest of the group with barely concealed excitement. “Tyrell Crawford sent her a painting today. It’s beautiful, a beach scene. Can you believe it? My daughter got a gift from a famous artist.”

  Martha smirked while Reverend Jenkins cringed. Shayla’s breathing stuttered as ringing started in her ears. This couldn’t be happening.

  Martha snatched the article out of Shayla’s hands and shoved it at Marcella. “I can believe it. Was it this one?”

  Marcella looked at the paper. Her smile froze. “This exact one.” She looked at Shayla. “So he is the man you spent the night with on Saturday.”

  If her mom would have kicked her in the gut she wouldn’t have hurt her more. Marcella’s eyes were accusing as they looked at Shayla, but delight was also there.

  Devin stepped forward. “This has gone too far.”

  Shayla’s eyes widened. She didn’t want, or need, him to step in and rescue her reputation. As if learning she spent the night with Devin would make anything better. They’d already made up their mind about her. Long before the story about her and Tyrell came out.

  “It has gone too far,” she said. Relief washed over Devin’s face. She looked away. “I wasn’t with Tyrell on Saturday, and it’s nobody’s business who I was with. Did you ever once stop to think that I was alone on Saturday night? That I would want to get out of this damn town away from the gossip, lies, and accusations.”

  “If that were true, why did he send you that painting?” Martha asked. Her mom nodded.

  “Shayla,” Devin started but she held up a finger to cut him off.

  She turned to Reverend Jenkins. “I’ll finalize the loose ends I was working on for the festival, but I won’t come to anymore meetings. I won’t let rumors ruin everything.” He frowned and she looked away. “Thank you for letting me help,” she gripped the heart charm around her neck and rushed out.

  Chapter 25

  Devin followed his dad home after the festival meeting. It wasn’t really a meeting after Shayla left. Instead everyone took sides about whether or not to believe she was alone that night. He’d opened his mouth to say he’d spent the night with Shayla too many times, but what would that fix? They wanted her in some man’s bed so they could throw their poisonous gossip darts. The Reverend had finally gotten tired of the escapade and cancelled the rest of the meeting. Saying he’d pray for everyone’s soul that night.

  Roscoe sat on his front porch and Devin folded his large frame beside him.

  “You were with her on Saturday, weren’t you?” Roscoe asked.

  Devin sighed, no need to deny it to his dad. “Yes.”

  “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “And make them hate her more for luring me away from her cousin?”

  Roscoe rubbed his face. “I never should have pushed that.”

  Devin turned toward his dad. “Why did you? I thought you wanted me with Shayla.”

  “I do, but you two were working hard at staying apart. I thought forcing you on a date with Kia would show both of you how wrong you were. I didn’t know she’d storm out on you, that you’d get in a fight with Tony.”

  “Tony deserved to be hit.”

  “If you hit him for what I think you did, then I agree with you.”

  Devin’s eyes widened. Roscoe frowned and looked away. “I overheard him one day, years ago, bragging about what he did to Shayla. If that’s why you hit him, then good job.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me you knew everything?”

  “Shayla had left town, you were determined to forget her, it was better to leave it alone.”

  Devin turned to watch the sun set behind the trees. The beauty of it was lost on him, his mind on Shayla.

  “How does she get wrapped up in these messes?”

  Roscoe placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Because people want her wrapped up in these messes. Everyone needs someone to be their morality scapegoat. It makes them feel better if they can look at another person and think that person’s life is more screwed up than theirs.”

  “If we were together, is that how it would be?” Devin said mostly to himself. “Everyone waiting for her to mess up and prove that she’s a screw up.”

  “No. Everyone would see how much you both love each other.”

  Devin’s head whipped around toward his dad. “Who said anything about love?”

  Roscoe shook his head and squeezed his shoulder. “Son, it’s as clear to me as the nose on your face. You’ve gotta decide if it’s strong enough to face the constant attacks that’ll come if you pursue it.”

  His dad stood and went into the house. Devin turned back to the trees, but the sun was no longer visible, the sky a mixture of reds and oranges reflecting off the pine trees. He let his dad’s advice sink in. He didn’t give a damn about what anyone thought of his feelings for Shayla, but she did. He wasn’t afraid of withstanding the attacks. But Shayla was.

  His cell phone vibrated in his pocket. Pulling it out, he read a text from Shayla. Midnight. He gripped the phone in his hand. Regret for treating her like a booty call ate away at his insides. She didn’t deserve his anger. He’d agreed to keep their relationship a secret and couldn’t behave like a petulant child whenever she reminded him of that.

  Loosening his grip, he started to text back that he’d meet her, but stopped. He had rounds at the hospital tomorrow. And his first appointment was scheduled for seven forty-five. As much as he wanted to spend the night with her, he couldn’t a
fford to.

  He dialed her number. His heart rate picked up speed when her silky voice answered.

  “I’m sorry for inviting you to the hotel like that. It won’t happen again.”

  “There’s nothing between me and Tyrell.” Her voice was firm. It wasn’t necessary, he believed her.

  “I know. But why the painting?”

  She sighed. “It was just a gift, Devin.”

  Her tone was defensive which irritated him. His confidence wavered. If there was nothing between them, she had no reason to get defensive. But, there was no need to pick a fight.

  “I can’t meet you tonight.”

  “Because of the painting?”

  “No, because I have to work tomorrow. I can’t spend the night in a hotel room.”

  “You know what, fine. Call me when you’re ready for my services.”

  He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Shayla, come on. You know it’s not like that. Besides, you’re the one who wants a secret relationship.”

  “I’m through talking to you. Goodbye.”

  After she hung up, he stared at the blank screen of his phone. Damn, foolish woman. Why did everything that involved Shayla Monroe have to be so complicated?

  Chapter 26

  “Those are all of my questions. Do you have any for me?” Bentley Prill set down his pen and smiled at Shayla.

  She forced herself not to collapse her shoulders in relief. She’d been nervous throughout the interview. She clenched and unclenched an ink pen in her hand to keep from tapping it against the table during the interview. Surprisingly, he hadn’t brought up anything about her abrupt departure from her previous job. While she was relieved it hadn’t come up, a part of her was afraid it could still bite her in the ass later. She tried to think of all the good post interview questions she should ask, but the only thing screaming within her head was how had he not heard about her scandal.