A Touch of Scarlet

by Liz Talley

  “You better watch yourself, girl.”

  “Are you threatening me?” Scarlet felt the slightest tremor of fear mingle with the anger inside her. She’d lived in New York City long enough to build strong self-preservation instincts.

  “No, I’m warning you.”

  As Scarlet studied the embittered man in front of her, something poked her psyche, and suddenly she could see what had caused Harvey to hit the warpath. She’d known his late wife. Mary had smiled often, loved theater, the arts and wearing flowers on her hats. She would not have approved of her husband’s crusade. “What would Mrs. Mary say about what you’re doing, Mr. Primm?”

  Harvey paused, seeming momentarily taken aback. “I’m doing what’s right.”

  “Maybe in your mind, but I knew your wife. I’m not sure she’d approve of yanking a children’s book off the shelf the way you have. And hiding in the bushes?”

  He took a step away. “I wasn’t hiding. I was…” His words trailed off.

  Scarlet didn’t retreat. He needed to hear her words. Someone needed to show him he’d colored his beliefs and shaded his world with grief. “Maybe you should take a hard look at what you’re doing. At your intentions. You can’t fix the world. That won’t bring Mrs. Mary back.”

  “Don’t say her name. You don’t know anything about her. A redheaded Jezebel like you couldn’t hold a candle to my wife. No matter how you cut it, witchcraft, wizards and magic is wrong.”

  “So quick to judge. Maybe you should do some reading. Either of the books you held up would do.”

  Anger caused the man’s face to redden. “Watch the way—”

  “Aunt Scarlet?”

  Scarlet turned her head. Henry stood, holding his glove and ball. He’d been listening to their conversation and he looked worried.

  “Mr. Primm was leaving, Henry.”

  Harvey gave her one last hard look before slinking toward a late-model Lincoln Continental parked down the street. Scarlet shoved her trembling hands in the pockets of her shorts. She didn’t want her nephew to know how affected she’d been by the exchange.

  “What was he doing here, Aunt Scarlet?” Henry jogged over to her, as if he could sense her unease.

  “I don’t know,” she said, curling an arm around his neck. “But I bet that’s the last we see of him.”

  “He’s kinda scary. He always wears black and he never smiles. He’s like a bad guy in a movie.”

  Scarlet steered him toward the inn. “I don’t think he’s a bad guy. He’s scared.”

  Henry stopped. “Of what? He’s a grown-up.”

  She paused for a moment, trying to recapture her Aunt of the Year vibe. “Well, all people are scared of something. Mr. Primm is afraid of the world he lives in, so he tries to control it.”

  “I don’t get it.”

  “The world around us constantly changes. We have to learn how to change with it. But that’s hard for a lot of people. They want to have their own version of how the world should be. Mr. Primm wants to go backward, to rewind, but he can’t. None of us can go back. Gotta remember there are plenty of things wrong with the past, and there are things—”

  Henry’s eyes took on a glazed appearance as he zoned out. She’d rattled off coffee-shop philosophies to an eight-year-old. What was she thinking?

  “What I’m trying to say is people need to be able to choose. Mr. Primm wants to take that right away because he’s scared of where it may lead. He doesn’t have faith in other people, and that’s no way to live.”

  Even as she said the words, she wondered if she’d done much the same. Hadn’t she clung to the past, holding fast to empty love for John? Hadn’t she lost faith in people? People like Brent…or even Adam?

  “Oh,” Henry said, scratching his head. “I get it. It’s like making someone play a position without giving him a chance to play what he wants. Like when Coach Armbruster made Hunter play on the offensive line just ’cause he’s big. That wasn’t fair. I like giving people chances. I like being fair.”

  Scarlet wasn’t sure her nephew completely got what she meant. But whatever. “Yeah, something like that, Tiger.” She ruffled his close-cropped hair and withdrew a damp hand. Boys sweated. A lot.

  “Okay, let’s head in. And, Henry, if you see Mr. Primm hanging around again, don’t talk to him. Go inside and tell someone. Okay?”

  “Sure,” he said, pounding up the back steps of the porch. Not only were little boys sweaty, but they were loud, too.

  “Mo-om!” Henry called as he banged open the door that led to the kitchen. “Aunt Scarlet got in a fight with Mr. Primm!”

  Oh, no, he did not.

  Scarlet sped up the steps, hoping to do damage control. Little boys were sweaty, loud and had big mouths.

  Rayne met Scarlet at the door. “What’s he talking about?” Rayne had braided her hair and wore a snug polka-dot apron with a ruffle at the hem. Her label. She also wore a frown.

  “Oh, nothing. Harvey stopped by to give me his regards.”

  “Was he harassing you?” She slapped a wooden spoon against her palm. She looked like a mob boss ready to mete out justice to anyone crossing her or hers. It made Scarlet smile. “What are you smiling about?”

  “Nothing. You. What are you going to do? Whack him with a spoon? I think you being arrested for assault will do more damage to your show’s reputation than your passionate sister handcuffing herself to a flagpole during a protest.”

  Rayne rolled her eyes. “I’m not going to hit anyone. Yet.”

  “He’s upset I’m destroying his credibility or whatever. He waved a Dallas newspaper at me. The picture of him holding the book and pointing a condemning finger wasn’t very flattering.”

  “We better watch him. I don’t trust him. No one does. A man like that digging up dirt on his neighbors and then sitting on the pew beside them every Sunday, holier-than-thou. Something’s wrong with him.” Rayne went back to the sauté pan on the huge Viking range.

  The kitchen smelled like bacon. And cake. Two tantalizing smells that oddly complemented each other.

  “I’m not worried. He’s a bitter, grieving old man. Not a criminal.”

  Brent came in. “Man, I’m starved. Writing about swim meets gives me the munchies.” He nuzzled Rayne’s neck, sneaking a hand down to her bottom.

  “Um, hello? I’m sitting here,” Scarlet said from a stool on the other side of the kitchen island.

  Brent snatched his hand away from his wife’s tush. “Oh, so you are.”

  Scarlet slid off the stool and headed away from the two lovebirds. They could have their moment together. She would rather not imagine her sister getting it on with Brent. Shudder.

  But she could imagine herself getting it on with tall, blond and tight-assed.

  The only silver lining to having to stay in Oak Stand was the judge putting Adam in charge of her case. If she had to perform community service, at least she could do it under him. Or she could do it on top of him.

  She was flexible. Literally.

  Her dirty thoughts made her giggle.

  It was unlikely she would act on anything. Adam was the chief of police, a position he obviously took very seriously. After the kiss in the jail cell, she doubted he would allow temptation to overcome professionalism again. Even if temporarily losing their heads had been mutually pleasurable.

  Kissing Adam had accomplished what she’d been searching for. He’d unstuck her. Given her back the piece she thought she’d lost when John had abandoned her. For that, she’d be grateful. And she would try to behave herself.

  Try being the key word.

  CHAPTER TEN

  PHOENIX WAS NOT what Scarlet had expected. The large structure that appeared when she drove between the two stone pillars didn’t look like a gang rehabilitation facility. It looked like a mountain lodge with its cedar-planked siding, huge wraparound porch and stacked stone columns. Ornamental grasses softened the stone base upon which the structure was built. An ugly dog waited for her on the
porch.

  She guessed Banjo was the welcome committee.

  Scarlet stepped from the black convertible and pushed her sunglasses atop her head. She’d dressed in her standard uniform for acting classes—snug black pants, black T-shirt, hair pulled into a low ponytail. She was a blank canvas, awaiting the opportunity to morph into whatever character she needed to become. Improv was her favorite. She hoped it would work with her new students.

  “Yo,” a voice called from her left. “You bringing sexy back? Or is this more of a back-in-black sorta thing?”

  Scarlet spun and met a smiling face, attached to a startlingly plump physique. “More of a Black Magic Woman. I’m Scarlet and I’m the new acting coach.”

  The man smiled and extended a hand. “I’m Georges. I’m a counselor here at Phoenix. One of the first graduates, too.”

  Scarlet shook his hand. It was slightly sweaty. Like Henry’s, but the smile the man gave her was charming. “Nice to meet you, Georges. Now, where am I to go? You know, to work my magic. Or as some call it, my community service.”

  Georges grinned and beckoned her to follow him toward the front door. “Right this way, Black Magic Woman.”

  The dog rose, stretched and trotted down the steps to greet her. She reached down and scratched him behind the ears and received a sloppy doggy kiss on the back of her hand for her effort. She could see the appeal of the scruffy mutt, and it occurred to her Henry needed his own pet. She’d missed his birthday, so maybe…

  The dog lifted his leg and peed on a potted plant next to the door.

  Maybe not.

  Scarlet stepped inside the center behind Georges into a large rustic room. Rick and Kate Mendez sat on the leather sectional, drinking lemonade.

  “Welcome, Scarlet,” Rick said, rising. He gestured for Kate to remain seated when she tried to struggle to her feet. “Lemonade?”

  “No, thanks. Wow, what a fabulous place,” Scarlet breathed, taking in the wagon-wheel chandelier, arched wood ceiling and huge moose head hanging above a stacked stone fireplace. Fans whirred above and the concrete floor was softened with Navajo rugs and an animal-skin rug, which was enclosed by the sectional.

  “We like it.” Kate patted the plush leather beside her. “Have a seat. We’ll talk first and then take you around to meet the staff and the clients.”

  Georges disappeared with a salute as Scarlet sat.

  “That sounds good. I didn’t know what to bring. Back in New York, I teach at a community theater adjacent to the YWCA. We have a stage, props and sound equipment. I’m afraid this will be a little basic.”

  “We like basic,” Rick said. “This room is our communal room and it’s probably the only space big enough for your class. Unless we move the games out of the recreation room.”

  “This should be fine if you don’t mind my moving the sectional a bit.” There wasn’t much privacy for shy actors, but for the hours she was here it was her job to teach them to become someone other than themselves.

  The door opened, interrupting her thoughts.

  “Ah, right on time,” Rick said. Scarlet turned her head and watched Adam stroll their way. Though he wore a pristine, pressed uniform, his gait was lazy and rolling. Almost seductive. Something fluttered in her belly.

  “Afternoon, ladies.” Adam set his hat on a sofa table, unveiling golden hair that glinted in the late-afternoon sunlight pouring through the unadorned windows. He was altogether yummy, yum, yum.

  “We were about to go over the center’s protocol with Scarlet. Do you have anything first?” Rick asked Adam.

  Adam glanced at Scarlet. She hadn’t spoken a word to him since he’d ripped himself away from the cell bars and paid the pizza guy. After Drake had left, Adam had handed her a loaded paper plate, another can of soda, then moved his center of operations to the front of the station. When Scarlet awoke the next morning, stiff from attempting sleep on the narrow bunk, another officer had greeted her and led her to the bathroom. She’d seen Adam briefly in the courtroom where he’d remained silent, only nodding his head at the judge’s directives.

  “I have a few papers for you to sign, mostly stating you understand the conditions of the sentence,” he said now, waving a manila folder before setting it on the low coffee table.

  Scarlet picked up the folder and leafed through it as Rick began explaining how the center worked. With half an ear, she learned the clients were well-screened and held to a certain standard of behavior. She read on the forms she couldn’t drink alcohol or carry a firearm without violating the terms of probation. Well, there went her Saturday night.

  After Scarlet scratched her name on the appropriate lines in the documentation, Kate took her on a tour of the facility, which included classrooms, sleeping quarters and a separate building outfitted with all the supplies necessary to run an auto-detail shop along with a…boxing ring?

  “What’s that for?” Scarlet pointed toward the ring.

  Kate smiled. “Oh, that. Well, Rick swears the clients like to take out their anger by beating the crap out of each other. But I think he really bought it for himself. And Adam.”

  “Adam?”

  “Yeah, he and Rick box at least once a week.”

  “Box?”

  “What are you? A parrot?” Kate said, waddling toward the rear of the metal building. Fans were mounted in the corners and a miniature gym lurked behind the boxing ring, complete with weight benches, an elliptical machine and a treadmill.

  “Nope. I’m a vampire queen,” Scarlet said.

  Kate snorted and continued her tour. “So this is where the guys work and work out. On Wednesdays and Saturdays we run an auto-detail shop. We make enough money to cover entertainment costs, equipment and give them some money to send home to their families. The guys like the ring and weights. Guess it does give them release. This program can be extreme, digging into a lot of stuff they don’t want to talk about. Intensive therapy about relationships, guilt and things no one should suffer through.” Kate rubbed her lower back. Scarlet had nearly a foot on the diminutive Kate, whose distended belly jutted forward. The woman had to have perpetual backaches. Probably spasms, too.

  “So what do you think?” Georges said, materializing at Scarlet’s elbow. She squeaked. For a big fellow, he had an incredible talent for stealth.

  “It sounds like a program that works.”

  Kate nodded. “It does, for the most part.”

  “So?” Scarlet said.

  “So what?” Kate asked.

  “What do I do now?”

  “Oh.” Kate snapped to attention. “Georges, let’s take Scarlet to meet the guys.”

  He saluted yet again, making Scarlet wonder if he’d been in the military. He led her out to the long back porch of the main building. There was a nice flagstone patio with Adirondack chairs and a fire pit. Adam stood waiting.

  “Can I speak with Ms. Rose before she gets started?” he asked. It hadn’t really sounded like a question. More of a command.

  “Sure,” Kate said, before turning to Scarlet. “Come on inside when you’re finished.”

  Scarlet nodded and Georges and Kate left her alone with the sexy cop who kicked off weird sensations inside her a mere four days ago. Part of her was pleased she would have time alone with Adam. Part of her wanted to get everything over with so she could move on. Go to L.A. Or back to New York. Anywhere but this little Texas town treading water.

  For a moment, Adam didn’t speak. He seemed captivated by the way an old wooden fence zigzagged the property. Finally he turned to her. “This won’t be easy.”

  “Not much in life is,” she responded, kicking the weather-worn footstool sitting in front of a chair.

  “About that night in the holding cell—”

  “Think nothing of it.” She waved a hand. “It was no biggie. A moment of insanity. One we can’t repeat.”

  “Exactly.”

  “And about what I told you. About being in love with a man who dumped me—” She paused, looking away from
him. Something about connecting with his eyes felt too raw. The man stripped her defenses. Obviously. Why else would she have told him about John? No one knew about their split. Maybe her roommate, Stefan, had an inkling, but even he didn’t know Scarlet had been dumped. Heart-trampled. Abandoned. “I’d appreciate you not mentioning that information to anyone. I shouldn’t— It was a strange moment. I’m sorry I asked you to do…um…what you did. It wasn’t fair of me.”

  She could feel his stare and forced herself to meet it.

  “Who are you? And what have you done with Scarlet?”

  “What?”

  “That was…heartfelt.” He crossed his arms over his chest, which caused his shirtsleeves to pull tight over his muscled arms. His skin was as golden as his hair. He was an all-over golden boy. No, not a boy. A man. She swallowed. Hard.

  “You weren’t acting out a scene in your head, were you? Because when I first met you, I got the idea that you acted out stuff going on in your mind. It was as if you listened to an inner voice directing you.”

  Scarlet blinked. How in the hell had he known? It was a bad habit, seeing everything as a director might, carefully orchestrating responses as if she were in front of a camera. But she’d tried really hard since she’d been in Oak Stand to step out of acting mode and be more herself. “I’m not acting.”

  He arched an eyebrow.

  “Seriously. I’m sorry. I can see how much your job and your reputation mean to you. I shouldn’t have put you in an awkward position, especially knowing you want me.”

  His eyes widened slightly, but he regained composure quickly. “That’s pretty egotistical even for a soap star.”

  “My show is not a soap opera. It’s a drama. And you do want me. I’ve been around men long enough to recognize the signs. You—” she pointed at him “—want me.” She pointed to herself.

  Something crackled between them. Static electricity building like an imminent storm.

  “I don’t want you.”

  “Yes, you do,” Scarlet said. “Hey, it’s okay. I want you, too. So we’re attracted to each other. Big deal. We’re young, single and not ugly. It’s natural. But don’t worry. I won’t act on it.”