“And Harmony’s hottie? How’s he holding up?”
The heat of embarrassment flamed her cheeks. “Fine. He’s been holed up in the barn, writing…at least I think that’s what he’s doing.” When he wasn’t railing against her for leaving him. Leaving him. How absurd, and yet…Katie had been flattered. Who wouldn’t be? The hunk of Harmony went a little loco because he thought floundering Katie was going to leave him.
“Yeah, when he’s writing, he can get a little testy.”
“Oh, I didn’t say he was testy.”
“You didn’t have to. Having a beautiful woman right under his nose, living under his roof and sleeping in his bed while he wrestles a whopper of a deadline is more than enough to make Vance Kerner testy. Especially when he’d rather be doing the wild thang with you.” Bertie winked.
Katie stumbled in her tan leather flats on the blacktop parking lot, refusing to believe Bertie’s explanation. “Hold on there. Nothing’s going on between Vance and me, really.” Except a lot of kissing and heavy groping. “I can’t even get him to focus long enough to sign my contract.”
Bertie smirked. “He will. Don’t worry. Anything to keep you around longer.”
Doubt and apprehension skittered along Katie’s spine. She didn’t want Vance to sign the contract because he wanted to keep her around. She wanted him to sign because of her incredible ability of persuasion. She almost snorted out loud. Get real. At this point, she didn’t care why he signed it. She wanted the assignment finished. She’d already lowered herself by agreeing to babysit as part of the bargain, and lied about it to her dad. She didn’t have much lower to go. She wanted to show her dad she’d done a good job. For once, she wanted to prove him wrong. And then…and then she wanted to quit. Katie stopped just as she reached the truck. Quit. Did she have the nerve? Katie’s palms began to sweat, and her left eyebrow twitched.
Bertie gave her an odd look. “You look hungry. Come on. Follow me.” Bertie waved her hand. “My brother owns the best diner in town.”
“The Dog?” Katie asked, tamping down her anxiety.
“Yeah. How’d you know?”
“From Dottie Duncan. She invited the kids swimming at her house yesterday.”
Bertie unlocked the door to her green Lexus SUV. “Girlfriend, you have gotten the seal of approval if Dottie extended an invitation. Be thankful Miss Sue Percy wasn’t there…you’d be as good as married.”
Katie’s face must’ve blanched, because Bertie stopped with her door half-open and arched one brow.
“Bertie? Miss Sue was there,” Katie whispered.
She gave a sympathetic nod. “My brother makes a mean Bloody Mary. You’re gonna need it.”
* * *
Inside the Dog, Katie’s gaze darted around, taking in the bright, colorful decor. Bertie explained that she’d redecorated a few years back to breathe new life into her deceased parents’ old restaurant, and the customer response had been very positive. Except when Keith had seen it for the first time and insulted Bertie about her design talent.
With a sly smile, she said, “He eventually came around to my way of thinking…in more ways than one.”
Katie ordered the special: cheesy eggs with a side of bacon and homemade grits. She was becoming a real Southern girl, with her second helping of grits in two days. The waitress, wearing a lime-green T-shirt with Get Down at the Dog in black sequins, delivered Bloody Marys with celery stalks in Mason jars.
“Welcome. May your stay in Harmony be fun and filled with adventure.” Bertie held up her glass.
“Thank you.” Katie sipped her drink and moaned. “Man, that is good. What’s your brother’s secret?”
“I have no clue. He won’t share. Not even with his wife, Liza.” Bertie sipped through the straw provided. “How do you like Harmony so far? I know you’re used to the big city, and we’ve got nothing on Hollywood, but—”
“Harmony has something Hollywood doesn’t…soul.”
Bertie’s grin widened. “I like that. We do have soul and lots of character. Or rather, characters?”
Speaking of characters, they both spotted Dottie walking with determined purpose in their direction in a patriotic combo that would’ve made the Founding Fathers proud. Perched on thick, red wedge sandals, with navy ruffled walking shorts and the first few buttons of her red-and-white gingham shirt undone, exposing the tops of her generous breasts.
“Move on over, Bertie.” Dottie made a shooing motion with her hands. “I’d like to talk to Miss California here.”
“I thought you talked yesterday,” Bertie said as she scooted down the booth’s bench.
“Yeah, but we didn’t get ’round to that miniseries she wants to make over at Vance’s place.” Dottie shifted her full hips over the yellow-and-green Dalmatian-spotted vinyl seat. “How goes your method of persuasion? Having any luck?” The waitress delivered their meals and Dottie’s large iced tea. With a smug expression, Dottie said, “Looks like I’ve converted someone. You let me know if those grits are as good as Geraldine’s.”
“Nothing’s as good as Geraldine’s,” Bertie added as she speared a fresh strawberry from her healthy fruit plate. A pang of guilt stabbed Katie’s stomach as her mother’s voice on watching her waistline played like a broken record in her head. But the smells of crisp bacon and warm butter convinced her that Crystal McKnight was three thousand miles away and unable to monitor calorie intake.
Katie groaned with pure pleasure as the savory, buttered grits melted in her mouth. “These are truly delicious, but I have to admit”—Dottie leaned in with one arched brow—“Geraldine’s are better.” Katie smiled, enjoying another bite.
“Damn right.” Dottie settled back in the booth. “Now…what tricks you using to get Vance to come on board with this Hollywood series? I like a gal who uses something other than sex to get a man. Shows spunk and imagination.”
Katie almost choked on the bite of bacon in her mouth. She hadn’t been imaginative in the least. It took all the willpower she possessed last evening not to follow the lure of Pirate Man’s heated gaze as he’d watched her from the loft’s window. She had warred with herself all night, repeating over and over that he was a player and had her tune memorized. With a dismal shake of her head, she said, “I’m afraid I haven’t been very imaginative.”
“You mean you’ve had sex already?” Dottie boomed. Color flooded Katie’s face. The breakfast crowd all stopped eating and stared.
Bertie mumbled, “Watch out…here it comes.”
“W-what?” Katie gripped the edge of the table.
“Told ya, they’re filming sex.”
“Vance is making porno with that Hollywood gal?”
“He’s a porn star. Never did believe he wrote no books.”
Katie slumped low in her seat. If…when this got back to Vance, it wouldn’t be beneath her to use the children as shields to deflect his anger.
“Don’t worry. It’ll die down, and they’ll be onto something else…eventually,” Bertie said.
“Colorful people, that’s all. If Hollywood had any smarts, they’d make a movie out of Harmony.” Dottie leaned over the table and said in a loud whisper, “Unless you’re making porn.” She waggled her eyebrows.
Katie’s ponytail smacked her cheek from shaking her head so hard. “Absolutely not. Strictly a teenage horror show. Lots of killing zombies, but no sex.”
“If you say so.”
“I do. I do.”
“Good. That’s settled. Now how you gonna convince Vance, if you say you aren’t sleeping with him and you’re not very imaginative?” Dottie asked.
Katie gave herself a mental shake. Jumping from topic to topic was making her dizzy. “Patience? I’m waiting him out. I’ve been blessed with a huge amount of perseverance.” Evident from working two years in an industry she hated.
Dottie shook her cob
alt-blue nail at Katie. “Vance’s smart, and he’s tricky.”
And soon to be enraged when all this porn talk got back to him.
Bertie nudged Dottie in the ribs, her gaze riveted on the entrance. “Look…can you believe it?” she said in a low voice.
Katie swiveled around and gasped as Dottie murmured, “Well, don’t that beat all.”
Near the entrance stood an awkward General Chuck Kerner, holding his battered fishing hat and wearing stiff jeans and a tight scowl on his face.
“Miss California, you are in for a treat,” Dottie said, waving her hand with flashy gold rings at Chuck. “Morning, Chuck. Come on over here. Got someone I want you to meet.”
Katie held her breath. Chuck had been insistent she not inform Vance of their meeting. But Katie knew it was just a matter of time before Vance found out. Chuck’s scowl deepened, but he worked his way toward their booth.
“That’s Vance’s dad, General Kerner,” Bertie whispered to Katie. “He doesn’t get out in public much. Lives in a really old farmhouse on the back of the Kerner property.”
Katie nodded, biting her lower lip when Chuck reached the table.
“Chuck Kerner, what brings you into town on a Monday morning? Run out of squirrel meat for breakfast?” Dottie asked. Katie’s mouth dropped open, and Bertie ducked her head and pretended to be fascinated with her fruit plate.
“Good morning, Bertie, Katie…Dorothy,” Chuck said with a tense set to his jaw. “Katie, may I join you?” he asked.
“C-certainly.” Katie scooted over to make room. Bertie and Dottie exchanged stunned looks.
Never one to beat around the bush, Dottie demanded, “What’s going on here? How do you know Chuck?”
“Um, we met yesterday when I was walking the property and taking pictures for the studio.”
“Does Vance know about this?” Dottie leaned forward. “Do you know that Chuck is Vance’s daddy?”
Katie nodded. “Y-yes and—”
“I asked Katie not to bring Vance into this, and I’d appreciate it for once if you’d keep your mouth shut, Dorothy,” Chuck snapped.
“I just bet you would.” Dottie gave Chuck the squinty eye. “You still holding that grudge? Over something a young, reckless boy said against you. When you gonna give him another chance?” She shook her head, but her stiff, platinum-blond hair didn’t move. “It’s time to let it go, Chuck. That boy is your son.”
And the plot thickened. Bad blood between a father and son made Katie’s heart spasm. “Dorothy, I don’t need you telling me how to run my life. I’ve managed quite nicely without you all these years.” The thick tension between Chuck and Dottie hung over their booth like a black thundercloud.
Katie shifted uncomfortably, and Bertie said in an overly bright voice, “General, what would you like for breakfast? It’s on the house.”
“That won’t be necessary—”
“I insist.” Bertie gave the waitress a frantic wave.
After Chuck ordered, he smiled at Katie. “Nice to see you again. I was out walking this morning when I saw you drive by with my gran—the kids.” He folded his large hands on top of the table.
“I didn’t see you, or I would’ve stopped.”
“No, no. That’s not necessary. I wouldn’t expect—”
“The hell it isn’t. When was the last time you visited with your grandkids?” Dottie butted in.
“Don’t start with me, Dorothy,” he growled low. Bertie gave Dottie a warning nudge with her elbow, but Dottie’s focus never left Chuck’s stone-like face.
“Somebody’s gotta stand up to you. And I’m volunteering, since I’m old enough and mean enough. I don’t care how many troops you commanded over the years. This time I’m giving the orders, and you’re gonna listen, you stubborn ol’ coot.”
Chuck eased back, and Katie didn’t know him well enough, but it seemed his lips thinned as he repressed a smile. The waitress arrived with his meal and hot coffee. He nodded his thanks and returned his attention to Dottie’s mulish face.
“You may be mean, Dorothy, but there’s not an old bone in your body.” Dottie’s brows arched up beneath her stiff bangs. “And you can give all the orders you want…doesn’t mean I’m gonna listen.”
“Katie, now you know where Vance gets his stubbornness from. Apples don’t fall far.” Dottie rocked her way out of the booth and stood. “I’m gonna say what’s on my mind before I leave—”
“Don’t let the door hit you on the behind on your way out,” Chuck mumbled into his coffee mug. Bertie choked on her fruit, swallowing a laugh, and Katie sat frozen, watching the exchange.
Dottie planted her palm on top of the table and leaned forward, giving Chuck a ringside view of her generous chest. “Vance’s supposed to take your grandkids to see their mama this weekend in Greenville, and he don’t have time, with his deadline only a few weeks away. If you were any kind of grandfather at all, you’d volunteer to take those wild hooligans and give your son a break.” Chuck’s gaze sharpened on Dottie’s face before it dipped to the tops of her exposed breasts.
“And how is it that you know my family’s schedule, you meddling, irksome woman?” Exactly. Even Katie didn’t know about these plans. Another conversation she needed to have with the elusive ladies’ man.
“I make it a habit to know lots of things about people I care about…you should try it sometime, you battered, old, grumpy recluse.” And with that parting shot, Dottie spun on her red sandals and sashayed out of the Dog as Chuck Kerner tracked her every step.
He shook his head. “Interesting woman. But she needs a hobby besides snooping and interfering in everyone else’s affairs.” Katie had a feeling in this instance, hobby meant man.
“Dottie can be blunt, but she always means well,” Bertie said, trying to soften Dottie’s harsh words.
“Ever since Ron died…instead of grieving, she filled her days with everyone else’s business.” Chuck sounded introspective and not combative, as Katie would’ve expected after the battle lines had been drawn. Strange for a military man.
“Everyone grieves in their own way. Some would say you’re still grieving…is that true, General?” Katie glanced up, surprised at Bertie’s daring question.
Chuck chewed for a moment and then said, “In a way, I guess I am. But not just for my wife, Helen. When you’ve seen as much death and destruction as I have, you’re always grieving deep down. It never leaves you.” His voice sounded hollow. Katie wrapped her palm over his strong, large hand and gave a squeeze. Chuck squeezed back.
“You two are about the prettiest things a man could ever wish for at his breakfast table. Thank you for sitting with an old man way past his prime,” he said, striking a lighter mood.
“Anytime, General. And I’m not buying past your prime… If you got out a little more, you’d be turning a lot of heads around here.” Bertie waggled her eyebrows, and a slight blush appeared on Chuck’s weathered cheeks.
“General, about your grandkids”—Katie could feel Chuck stiffen next to her—“I think it would be a great idea if you drove them to Greenville to see your daughter-in-law, Gloria. Vance could use the break, and Katie will definitely need one by Friday, won’t you, Katie?” Bertie said.
“Well, they haven’t been bad, but they are…lively.” Katie feared her boot camp would pale in comparison to the one the general would put his grandkids through. Probably fit for a marine. Yikes.
Chuck nodded. “Let me think about it. I’ll give Katie my answer when she comes by for another visit this week. You are coming again?” He speared her with his sharpened gaze, but this time a flicker of hope flashed behind his dark eyes.
“Sure. Only if you promise to teach me to play chess on that beautiful set of yours.” Katie had admired an antique chess set with carved figures from the Battle of Gettysburg, sitting on an old pine table. It appeared as though a
game was already in progress.
“Be my pleasure.” Chuck stood, fishing for his wallet.
“Your money’s no good here, General,” Bertie teased, waving away his cash. “But I expect to see you back again real soon.”
“Thank you, ladies. Have a nice day.” He turned with his back and shoulders military-straight and left the Dog.
“Wow. Very interesting. You want to tell me what’s going on with you and General Instill-Fear Kerner?”
Katie fidgeted with her floral tunic top. “You heard it all. Ran into him yesterday. He scared the bejeezus out of me with his shotgun. I thought he was some scary mountain hillbilly and I was a goner, but then he invited me inside for iced tea, and we chatted for over an hour.”
“We’re a few hours away from any mountains and hillbillies,” Bertie said with a wry smile. “But he can be intimidating with or without a shotgun. Why didn’t you tell Vance?”
“He asked me not to. And it’s not like I owe Vance anything. Right now, that conniving womanizer owes me.” Katie clapped her hand over her mouth. “I’m so sorry. I know he’s a very good friend of yours.” How catty. She didn’t know Bertie well enough to bash one of her best friends.
“Don’t apologize. He’s been known to womanize here and there, but those days are behind him. Especially with those kids. Poor baby.” Bertie sounded as if she didn’t feel sorry for Vance at all.
“Do you know why Vance and his dad have a strained relationship? Sounds like it’s been a long stalemate.”
Bertie shook her head, reaching for her drink. “Something they argued about when Vance was barely out of high school. I don’t know the exact conversation, because Vance never talks about it. But I do know he’s been trying to make amends ever since. That’s why he writes books about war. Has something to do with his dad and his career.” Bertie shrugged. “Brogan probably knows the whole story but keeps it to himself.”
“Nobody talks about it?” Katie gave a short, disbelieving laugh. “From what I’ve seen so far, this town talks about everything, from homemade grits to porn stars. I can’t believe the story behind their bad history hasn’t been bandied about.”
Sweet Southern Bad Boy Page 11
