Stirring Up Trouble (8 page)

He inched down slowly until his butt met the metal grating. That did feel better, he noted with surprise.

“Now, the graffiti is pretty large. I think you can paint over the, um, testicles from a seated position and I can paint over the rest.”

Emmett turned to look at the giant spray-painted penis they were there to cover up. That plan seemed like it would work, except for the highest part of the graffiti. He might not like it, but he might be the only one able to cover that up. “Will you be able to reach the . . . overly enthusiastic ejaculate?”

Maddie sighed and shook her head. “I'll worry about that last. Let's just get to painting before we lose daylight.”

She seemed fairly disgusted by the whole situation and he wasn't surprised. She didn't strike him as the kind of baker who would make sexy novelty treats for bachelor and bachelorette parties. That had to break some kind of debutante code, he was pretty sure.

Emmett wasn't too happy about it himself, although the six-foot penis was the least of his worries. He rolled onto his knees and pried open the paint can. He poured the paint into a plastic disposable tray while Maddie loaded foam rollers onto the paint wands.

They got started, but it didn't take long to realize the water tower was going to need more than one coat. The tower was white with swirling red letters and a rose on one side. The penis was dark purple. It took about a half hour to paint over the whole thing.

“I think we need to take a break and let it dry,” Emmett noted as they finished. “If I paint over a wet spot, it just pulls the paint off instead of layering on more.”

“Fair enough.” Maddie set the roller down and picked up her tote bag. “Good thing I packed some reinforcements.”

Emmett had rolled back onto his rear end with his shoulder blades pressed into the water tower. “Reinforcements?”

Maddie flopped down beside him and reached into her bag. She pulled out two bottles and a small box from her bakery. “Sun Drop and my homemade take on MoonPies. It's the only appropriate snack to have at the top of a water tower.”

Emmett's brow went up and she opened the pastry box to reveal a treat too decadent-looking to be called a MoonPie. “You made MoonPies?”

“Yep, it's my Wednesday special. I make homemade marshmallows and sandwich them between my special ginger cookies. Then I dip the whole thing in dark chocolate ganache.”

“Wow.” Emmett accepted the treat she offered. “I've never actually eaten a MoonPie before, but this has to be way better than the skinny little things they sell in the packs at the gas station.”

“You've never eaten a MoonPie? Where are you from?”

“Florida,” Emmett answered before taking a large gooey bite and groaning aloud. “That just wasn't something we ate, I guess, although if they were all this good, I'd be twenty pounds heavier.”

“Ah, well, it's a little bit country, but sometimes it's just what you do. When I was working for Estelle, someone came in and asked if we could custom-make an order of a hundred of them for a redneck-themed wedding by the lake. They were doing camo bridesmaids dresses, the whole thing. We made enough MoonPies for them to stack them like a tiered wedding cake. The wedding was ridiculous, but everyone loved the MoonPies. People started coming into the shop asking for them, so I started making them as a specialty item when I opened Madelyn's. Before I left to come over here, I grabbed a couple of treats just in case. When I realized we'd be climbing the water tower, I picked up the soda so we could have the ultimate southern experience.”

Climbing this tower was an experience Emmett could've skipped, but he had to admit the snacks helped to take his mind off things. “So tell me, how many times did a fine upstanding girl like yourself make it up to this water tower?”

“A couple of times my senior year,” she admitted. “All the teenagers know it's the best spot to sneak off to during a football game. From here you can see the field and would know how much time you had left to make out before you had to crawl back down.”

Emmett chuckled and opened his bottle of Sun Drop. “Are you telling me you climbed up here to make out with boys? That's scandalous.”

“Actually, no. I wasn't the kind of girl who climbed up here on a regular basis. I came up here a couple of times with one special guy in particular. He was a friend of Blake's from Auburn and he would come home with him every now and then. I was head over heels for him. It was his idea to climb up here the first time and we made the pilgrimage every time he came to visit.”

“Did he ever declare his love for you on the water tower?” Up close, Emmett could see the faint ghosts of previous graffiti that was painted over, including some good and bad. One stated that someone loved Donna, one accused Nancy of being a slut, and another announced “Rick and Tina Forever.” Apparently you could keep up with the latest Rosewood relationships by looking at the water tower—at least back in the day. He hadn't noticed anything like that lately until the big penis showed up.

The faint smile faded from Maddie's face and she shook her head. “No, he didn't. No one has ever climbed up here to announce that they loved me by vandalizing public property.”

Emmett wasn't surprised. That didn't seem like the kind of thing that would impress her. “I suppose your fancier guys had better methods for doing that. What did they do? Bring you flowers? Write romantic love poems?”

“Not really. I'm sure that kind of thing would've been about right, but I never got any of that. No one has ever been in love with me before.”

“What?” Emmett said, his brows knitting together in confusion. “How is that possible?” Madelyn might be a handful, but she was a beautiful, popular, rich handful. Guys should've been tripping all over themselves to get with her back in high school, and even more so now.

Maddie shrugged. “I don't know. I dated pretty regularly before I left for Paris, but it's never gotten to that point, I guess. The closest I ever got was with Blake's friend Joel, but I was wrong about him in the end. He was just like the rest of the guys who are only interested in my family and whatever money they think they can milk out of it. The ones with enough of their own money not to care about that just think I'm a diva and would rather have a doormat for a wife. You of all people know what I can be like. Who can fall in love with a woman like me?”

She sounded almost defeated for the first time. Emmett didn't like it. Their battles had caused some of the biggest headaches he'd had since he moved to Rosewood, but they'd also been the source of the most excitement he'd had. He hated to think that a beautiful—albeit stubborn and sassy—woman like Maddie felt she was unlovable somehow.

“I think you just need to find the right man. A
real
man, not just some punk trying to weasel his way into a cushy lifestyle. A real man wouldn't be intimidated by a strong woman. He'd take everything you dished him and fire right back.”

Maddie turned to look at him, their proximity to each other suddenly more notable than it had been just a moment before. Her eyes met his and they both seemed to realize at the same time that he'd just described himself as being her perfect partner. “Someone like you, you mean?” she asked quietly, her lips a mere fraction away from his.

His gaze dropped down to her soft pink lips. “Maybe,” he said. Even as he spoke the word aloud, he knew that would never happen. He harbored an attraction to her, and he was certainly capable of handling what she could dish out, but they were a social mismatch in her eyes. He was certain she thought he was below her—a poor, lowly bartender. That would be her loss.

Her gaze searched his face for a moment before she shook her head. He was right. All she saw in him was a loser at a bar. A peddler of liquid poison and loose morals. She'd made those decisions without knowing anything about him, and yet she asked others to see beyond her own crusty exterior. If she was willing to let her own prejudices get in the way of a potential relationship, then she was right. It wouldn't happen.

“I think it's time for that second coat of paint,” she said.

Before he could respond, she stood up and walked back over to pick up her paint roller.

Chapter Eight

When Maddie unlocked
the door of her bakery Thursday morning, she was a little stunned. She'd been nervous about letting her new employee close the shop, but she hadn't had a choice. To compensate, she'd given her very specific instructions. Gertie was to straighten up, box up any leftover pastries, hide the cash in an envelope inside the freezer, and leave the keys to the shop in Maddie's mailbox. When she got home Wednesday evening and the keys were where they should be, she never thought to go by the shop to follow up.

If she had, she would've been equally stunned. It was 4:00 a.m. and her eyes
could
be deceiving her, but it appeared as though the place was spotless. The shop was usually pretty clean—she had health department requirements to meet—but the place looked as good as it did the day it opened. The front part of the shop was immaculate, and the glass windows were smudge-free. The trip into the kitchen proved Gertie hadn't stopped there. All the previous day's baking equipment was washed and put away. The countertops were wiped down and the floors were swept. A pastry box was sitting on the counter with the previous day's pastries for donation.

A glance into the freezer showed the envelope of cash was right where it should be, and a peek into the refrigerator revealed a batch of blueberry muffin batter and what looked like whoopie pie batter ready to go for today. She hadn't even asked Gertie to do that.

As part of the bakery tour, she'd shown Gertie where she kept her recipes and the daily schedule for what they sold when, so Gertie would know the answers if someone asked about a special. Apparently, she'd taken it on herself to look at the next day's offerings and make up a few things that could be prepared ahead of time.

Maddie was picky about her products. She'd test a batch and see how the muffins turned out before she was willing to put them out for sale, but if they were satisfactory, she was giving that kid a raise. She already felt bad enough that Gertie had taken the job without even asking about the pay. It probably didn't matter. Maddie could tell by her clean but threadbare clothes and out-of-date cell phone that Gertie and her family could probably use the money.

Looking around, Maddie assessed her workload and decided to fire up the ovens and get a batch of blueberry muffins baking while she started on the breakfast rolls. The muffins came out perfectly, as did the whoopie pies, saving her a ton of time. By the time she opened the doors at eight she was ahead of schedule and some of her cookies and sweets for the afternoon were already cooling on racks in the kitchen.

Dotty was the first one in the door. Maddie looked up and immediately noticed that her regular customer was sporting a fancy new hairdo. She was also decked out in full makeup, with jewelry to match her new outfit. Since Miss Dotty usually ran around town in elastic-waist jeans and old sweaters, the difference was obvious. “Looking mighty fine this morning, Miss Dotty.”

Dotty beamed, running her hand over her new curls. “Isn't it great? It's just what I was looking for. It's given me a whole new outlook on things.”

“Where are you off to today, all dressed up like that?”

Dotty leaned into the counter to share her secret, although they were the only two people in the shop. “The midmonth brunch at the senior center. I've decided that today is the day I'm going to ask out Dick Campbell.”

Maddie had a vague recollection of who he was. His ex-wife, Irene, had come to the house several times over the years to have tea with her grandmother. Granny had always referred to him as Richard, though. Maddie couldn't imagine the word “dick” ever coming out of Adelia Chamberlain's mouth, even in such an innocent context.

“So you've got your eye on Mr. Campbell, huh?”

“I do, indeed. He's been divorced for about ten years now. He's a few years younger than me, but after sixty, who's counting? I heard he likes old black-and-white movies, so I'm going to ask him to join me for a showing of
Casablanca
at the old theater in Gadsden.”

Maddie hadn't heard of anything like that. “They've got a place that plays old movies?”

“Yes,” Dotty explained. “When it got outdated and couldn't compete with the fancy multiplexes, it became a dollar theater, and then someone bought it and fixed the place up. Now they show old classics on the weekends. I thought it'd be nice. It's been a long time since I've dated, but going to the movies is always fun. Sitting in the dark, butter-covered fingers brushing each other in the popcorn, making out where your mama couldn't catch you . . .”

“Miss Dotty!” Maddie said with a touch of scandal in her voice.

“I know, isn't it naughty? I so hope he says yes.”

Maddie didn't want thoughts of Dotty and Dick making out to manifest in her brain, but the idea of a senior romance in general was more inspiring than unsettling today. That conversation with Emmett on the water tower had put those thoughts at the forefront of her mind. She hadn't intended to open up to him like that, but he was easier to talk to than she expected. It must be the bartender in him—half alcohol server, half therapist.

It was more than she'd said to anyone about her love life in a while. She didn't have many people to confide in. Discussions with Lydia always seemed to circle back to focus on Lydia. Her brothers certainly didn't want to hear about how lonely she was. But Emmett had really listened. He'd also been supportive and didn't let her beat herself up. She was grateful for that. And surprised. She didn't expect that from him at all.

The whole afternoon had been enlightening for her. For the first time, she'd been able to see Emmett the man, not the rival. Knowing they both had to be on their best behavior had left them with no choice but to get along and get the job done. It was quite the realization to find that she actually liked Emmett. She was able to relax around him, something she couldn't do with many men.

She wasn't ready to address his insinuation that he might be the right kind of guy for her, but she had to admit they certainly had chemistry. Her entire nervous system lit up when he was around, reminding her just how long it had been since she'd indulged in a relationship. He was attractive, and he smelled amazing. When they were close together she wanted to bury her face in his neck and breathe in the scent of him. All that was nice, but in the long term, what would they talk about? Would they have anything in common but hot sex and indulgent pastry? She didn't know.

He was certain there was someone out there for her. She wasn't so sure after years by herself, but knowing those older couples were finding romance gave her hope that maybe she'd still have a chance at love, even if she didn't settle down anytime soon.

Maddie smiled at Miss Dotty and tried to put her worries aside. “You'll have to tell me how it goes.”

“I will. Now, I'm going to get a couple of things to take to the brunch today.” Dotty perused the selection, choosing about six different items. “Could you cut those in half? If you don't, I just know Connie Jackson will grab a whole cinnamon roll and smuggle it out in her purse. She thinks no one sees her, but I do.”

Maddie cut up the selections and put them in the box. Dottie left quickly for a change, apparently on a mission to land herself Dick Campbell. Bless his heart—he didn't know what was about to hit him.

Leaning against the back counter, Maddie crossed her arms and thought about what Miss Dotty had said about that movie theater in Gadsden. She bet quite a few people turned out for that kind of thing. It was a shame they didn't have anything like that in Rosewood. They'd never gotten their own theater here, and there wasn't really anyplace else that could show films like that.

Her gaze strayed out the front window to the square. From her angle, she could see just past the courthouse to the library. Looking at the smooth limestone of the façade, she realized that she'd never noticed there weren't windows on that side of the building. She walked over to her window for a better look.

The square was the center of Rosewood, with the courthouse and the library situated back-to-back on a large, grassy lawn. It occurred to her then that if they set up a projector on that side, they could project movies onto the library wall. Folks could bring out blankets and chairs and watch movies on the lawn. She'd been searching her brain for something people could do in Rosewood to keep them from loitering at the bar and vandalizing public property. This just might be the thing.

Maddie fished out her notebook from the drawer behind the register and started making notes. It was mid-October, not the ideal time to kick off a series of outdoor activities, but they had enough time to try it once while the weather was mild. If they got a good turnout, maybe they could host a series of movies, or even concerts, out on the lawn next summer.

This wasn't something she could pull off by herself, though. Lord knows, she didn't have enough time between running the shop and all her community service chores. But she knew exactly who she could talk to about it—Alice Jordan. Alice was Mayor Gallagher's assistant. No one who actually knew Alice had any illusions that Mayor Gallagher lifted a finger around town aside from showing up and shaking hands. Alice was the one behind the scenes who made things happen. She coordinated a lot of the community events, including the Christmas parade and the county fair, which just wrapped up a few weeks before.

Now might be the perfect time to pitch this idea, before she got caught up in Christmas preparations.

Alice normally stopped by the bakery at least once a week. Maddie hadn't seen her yet, so maybe she'd come by today. Or maybe she'd just call her and flat out ask her to come across the street to see her.

Maddie picked up the phone and dialed the courthouse. The operator transferred her directly to Alice's line.

“Mayor Gallagher's office,” she said.

“Alice,” Maddie said in her most chipper voice. “This is Maddie Chamberlain. Are you busy this morning?”

“You know how things are,” she said with a tedious sigh.

Maddie could just guess. Why people kept reelecting Otto was beyond her. He wasn't a very effective leader, but he'd become a fixture in Rosewood somehow. Southerners just loved their traditions. “Do you think you'd have time to pop by the bakery this morning? I've just put on a pot of tea and pulled out a tray of fresh cinnamon scones.”

Alice groaned. “That sounds wonderful, Maddie, but I can't really run off for tea right now.”

“Of course not,” Maddie said. “This meeting is to discuss official Rosewood community activities business.”

Alice hesitated. “It is?”

“Absolutely,” Maddie replied with a grin. “Come over as soon as you can. I have an idea.”

“What in God's name
is
that?” Maddie asked, staring at the wall in front of them.

Emmett scratched his head and shrugged. “I'm not much of an art connoisseur, but I guess it's supposed to be a penis wearing a fireman's helmet, since it's on the side of the fire station.”

Apparently the Penis Picasso had decided to step up his game. No longer content with simple, crude images of genitalia, he had opted to add accessories this time. When they'd reported to the courthouse for their assignment Saturday morning, they were given paint remover and a pressure washer, and directed to the firehouse for their next project.

“This is ridiculous. We're going to spend our entire stint of community service cleaning up after this punk.”

“Would you rather pick up trash in the park?”

“I would, yes. At least then I'd be doing something productive, something that would make Rosewood a better place. Right now I just feel like the guys at the end of the parade, sweeping up animal poop. He makes a mess, and we clean it up. Repeat as necessary.”

“Do you have a better suggestion?” Emmett asked. As long as there were penises to be covered up, he was pretty certain that they would be out here doing the work. It was probably saving the city a lot of money to farm out these jobs to local offenders.

“I say we catch the little bastard and put a stop to this whole thing.”

Emmett's eyes widened at Maddie's bitter yet unexpected enthusiasm. “Catch him? Isn't that the cops' job?”

Maddie shrugged and eyed the directions on the paint remover designed to take graffiti off brick. “They haven't managed to do it yet. Someone should. This needs to stop, and I think we'd be able to find him.”

“Why us?”

“For one thing, we both keep weird hours. We're both awake at two or three in the morning and, to me, that's the prime time to do this sort of thing. If I got up a little earlier and you stayed up a little later, we could do some hunting without anyone knowing.”

Emmett wasn't so sure. He was already mandated to spend six hours a week with Maddie. Was voluntarily spending more time with her going to help or hurt their situation? He had to admit that their fighting seemed to have stopped since they got arrested. The week had been fairly quiet, and no one called the cops Friday night. He hadn't had a live act playing that night, but she hadn't turned him in on ladies' night, either. Maybe the worst of it was truly behind them.