Betsy is already in the boutique, bustling around to get our models everything they need. Perfume, hair spray, and excited voices hit me like a brick wall. There’s so much estrogen in here, I’m not sure there’s room for me. Betsy’s head pops up when she hears the bell over the door ring out. She smiles hello, several strands of hair coming out of the messy bun on top of her head. There’s something different about her, but I can’t put my finger on it.
I head in Betsy’s direction, ready to dive in and help out. I should have gotten here earlier, but this was the time we agreed on, so I’m not sure what’s going on. Everyone greets me as I pass. I give each and every one of them a compliment, along with thanking them for helping us out.
By the time I get to Betsy, there’s only twenty minutes until showtime. I wait patiently until she’s done pinning a hemline on the linen pants Palmer will be modeling. Palmer’s hair and makeup look gorgeous. I tell her so and she blushes.
“First time I’ve worn makeup since the baby was born. This is like a vacation for me.” She hustles off to get her shoes and matching handbag.
Betsy made everything so easy with each model’s clothes, shoes, handbag, and accessories in a single pile with their name written on a notecard on top. I imagine if we’d done it my way, it would have been exponentially more chaotic.
“Hey,” I say, catching Betsy’s attention. “Did I get the time wrong?”
She smiles up at me. “Nope. Right on time. You’re an owner, Silas. You just show up and look pretty.”
I frown, appreciating the work she’s put in but feeling badly for not being here to help. “You mean handsome?”
“Sure. If that makes you feel better.”
I grab her arm gently and tug her behind the curtain to the storage room. The volume of the ladies out front is only slightly lower back here. I push Betsy up against the wall and kiss her, melting into her scent, her lips, her excitement for the day that’s practically pulsating off of her. I like seeing her lit up like this. I pull back way sooner than I want to, but I know now’s not the time.
Her grin is lazy as she tilts her head back to hold my gaze. “That was nice.”
I push off the wall and force myself to let go of her. I turn her around and spank her ass. She’s in jeans and a T-shirt, which I know is not what Mary London will be having her model. She yelps at the spank.
“Get out of here, honey. I know Mary London wants you all dolled up.”
She flips me off over her shoulder, then whispers, “Good luck!”
We push through the curtain and Betsy runs out of the store. I mingle with the models, helping with any last-minute fixes. They all look amazing. I just hope we’ve hit the mark with the fashion. Right on time, I escort them to the backside of the gazebo, which is thankfully in the shade of a tall magnolia tree. Betsy is nowhere to be seen, but I know she’s in good hands with my sister. So many people have come out today, there’s standing room only. The four streets lining the Square have been blocked off by our local police to allow adults and kids alike to wander freely and safely.
Heaven’s mayor starts off the event from a lectern in the gazebo, outfitted with a microphone that booms out his voice across the various speakers set up in the Square. He welcomes everyone, explains this event is a fun way to ring in the fall season with a fashion battle between local boutiques, and welcomes any newcomers. He then introduces a man who’s treated like a king around here, Oake Eddington, the head football coach for MidSouth University of Heaven. The mayor steps back, and with thunderous applause, Oake takes to the lectern. He doesn’t say much, but he isn’t expected to. All our residents care about is his team’s winning streak, not his verbal talents. He ends his short speech bellowing the usual question. “Heaven or Hell?”
The crowd responds all at once with the fight chant we learn before our ABC’s. Once that’s done, the music starts and Darby Kate gives the marching orders to all the models backstage like Tyra Banks on her hit modeling show. Mary London’s boutique is first, which one would expect. Everyone loves the young sorority looks and those girls always put on a good show.
I catch my father’s eye across the lawn on the west side. He’s standing next to Richmond Brook, the banker. Dad doesn’t giveme a smile, but he does dip his head in greeting. I don’t like how engrossed in conversation he is with Richmond. That doesn’t bode well for my loan on the boutique. I try to swallow down my nerves and shift to the chairs on the east side of the lawn.
“Hey,” a voice hisses.
I turn to see Deuce wedged between a planter and a light pole. He’s dressed in a full suit in a deep purple pinstripe, easily the fanciest-dressed person here. Not sure how I didn’t see him or how he’s not sweating himself into heatstroke. I slide in next to him, making sure I have a view of the catwalk. I cannot miss watching Betsy model for my sister.
“See any possibilities?” I drawl when my best friend doesn’t even bother to glance at me.
“That girl’spurtierthan new money.” He grins like the devil at the young lady currently strutting down the catwalk. “But way too young for me.”
I nod. “Thank God you aren’t getting all squirrelly for the college girls. Although Betsy’s in the group and she’s not too young for us.”
“Yeah, but she’s taken.” Deuce finally looks at me, but only to give me an exaggerated wink.
I can’t help the sigh. Swiping a bead of sweat from my brow, I explain. “Yeah, you say that now, but I’m not so sure. She’s easily the most difficult woman I’ve ever dated.”
“That’s good.”
“Huh?”
Deuce looks down his nose at me, which is funny because we’re the same height. “It’s about time you met a woman who made you work for it. All those aw-shucks smiles of yours have made the ladies flock to you. It’s healthy to have to put some effort into your wooing.”
“Whatever. Like you’ve ever put in the work.”
Deuce shrugs. “I’ve never wanted to before.”
