Maisie
To: Bellini O’Donnell
From: Maisie Brown
Subject: You’re on Santa’s bad list
Bellini? Are you there?
Oh yes. I was there. Or here. But Logan was filling my head and my heart, and my soul, and I could barely think.
I knew I had to start writing again. I did not want to run the bar for the rest of my life, but if I didn’t get it together, I might have to if I lost my book contract.
That would be—very bad.
I thought of the Roxy Belle ideas Logan and I came up with together. They would work! I simply needed time to write. I smiled as I pictured the storylines. It would be Roxy Belle and me again. She still had kid-friendly, engaging stories about her life on a farm with an eccentric family that needed to be told.
28
Bellini
“What are you wearing for Lady Whiskey’s Tits and Ass Show, Bellini?” Mrs. Kerns asked me.
“It’s T and A fortinselandAllI Want…”
Mrs. Kerns tapped her foot with annoyance, and I gave up.
“Stacy is making an outfit for me.”
“You better try it on a few days before the show. My great niece is not known for modesty.”
That was true. “She told me that she’d make sure I was covered. That I wouldn’t…uh…pop out.”
Mrs. Kerns raised that eyebrow at me again. She was so intimidating!
“She promised,” I insisted, feeling some fear trail down my spine like a cold winter icicle. “I talked to her. My mother hired her.”
“Your mother hired my great niece, who is often barely dressed, even in Montana weather, to make you amodestdance outfit.” Mrs. Kerns was incredulous.
I cringed. “Yes, ma’am.” My voice came out in a choked whisper.
“I think I’ll like Bellini’s outfit,” Logan said, ever helpful.
“I’m sure you will,” Mrs. Kerns said, sarcasm dripping. “Make sure that your top half will not fall out, Bellini. I will talk to Stacy. There’s a lot of movement in your dance, and we don’t want any surprises. It would reflect poorly on my instruction.”
“There’s no need to talk to Stacy,” Logan said, grinning, leaning back on his heels.
Mrs. Kerns crossed her arms, glared at him, and then lifted thateyebrow.
Logan stopped grinning immediately.
I side-kicked him.
He said, “Ouch!”
“What about you, Logan?” Mrs. Kerns asked, staring at him as if she expected him to say that he would be decked out in a Chippendales outfit. “What are you wearing?”
“A black suit and a red silky scarf and a black hat with a red feather, apparently.” He lifted his palms. “And a boa constrictor. Red.”
