The Bachelor and the Beauty Queen (11 page)

* * *

That afternoon, Stephen treated the four girls and his nieces to the boat ride on the Dolphin Tour while their mothers sat back at the local seafood bar and relaxed for a few hours. Afterward, Stephen sipped on Torres Rum, his family's brand, while he paced the living room of the top floor of the four-bedroom suite. Lexi had tried to insist on getting her own room, but Stephen pointed out the ease in keeping everyone together if they stayed in one suite. He gave her the master suite, while he had his own right next door. The girls each had their own room.

One minute this afternoon, she was joking around with him and explaining the ridiculous rules of pageantry, and the next minute she was accepting autographs like a celebrity—a down-to-earth celebrity. She really won him over on the boat ride. Like the children, she sat engaged with his every word as he retold a Puerto Rican folktale. With each throaty laugh she gave, she'd tilt her head backward. She didn't care when the wind whipped her hair into her face and didn't stop once to check her reflection. Stephen couldn't figure out how she was part sweetheart and part sex kitten at the same time.

“Where are the girls?”

Speaking of sex kitten
. Stephen gulped when he turned with his drink in his hand. The coolness of the ice against his glass reminded him of how sweaty and slippery his palms got when he looked at her. She stood in the doorway of her room in a fitted black dress that only amplified her curves. Her hair hung to one side, practically covering her left eye while the rest hung down her back, long and straight. Her lips were a kissable red and he itched to try them out. Stephen's eyes fell to the hem of the dress, which stopped above her knees. Her long stems poured into a pair of black shoes with heels so high she might be his height. He envisioned Lexi draped across a piano, singing a sultry song—or better yet, on his king-size bed.

Setting the drink on the coffee table in front of the couch, he sniffed and chuckled. “Funny thing.”

“Why do I feel like I'm not going to laugh?”

“The kids are taking a cooking class.” Stephen shoved his hands in his pockets and tried to think of something to say. “You're beautiful.”

A pink blush spread across her cheeks. “So are you—well, I mean in the man version.”

Silence fell between them. The long, black hands of the clock over the fireplace ticked down the seconds. Stephen wanted nothing more than to carry her into the bedroom, and considering the way she returned his stare, she'd allow him. This would be their first time being alone without the threat of interruption from kids. While a quick roll in the sack would satisfy his sexual desire, he wanted things to be different with Lexi. Now that he was living in Southwood full-time, and because of her interactions with Philly, he didn't want things to be awkward between them. He wanted to learn more about her this evening.

“Shall we go to dinner?” If he did not sit down, she would question if he was a man or an adolescent. Something about being around Lexi forced his body to respond. He needed to recite the starting lineup for the Atlanta Braves. These involuntary erections were going to be the death of him.

“You still want to go to dinner? If the kids aren't here, I figured you might not want to go out...” Her words trailed off.

“I didn't realize you wanted to get me all alone so soon,” he teased. “We haven't even completed our first date.”

“This isn't a date.” The smile on her face disappeared but a twinkle in her eye remained.

“Yes, I know,” Stephen teased. “You don't date parents. I assume your hearing is okay?”

“Mine?” Lexi cocked her head up at him.

“Because I've told you several times now,” he said as he leaned over and took a chance, pressing his lips against her cheek right below her earlobe. “I'm not a parent.”

“Let's go eat,” she said drily.

Chapter 9

O
wen's lived up to its reputation as one of the finest restaurants in the whole state of Georgia. Stephen liked the hardwood floors leading to the white-clothed tables with solid black accessories. A hanging white drape privatized the booths, drowning out the conversations nearby.

Full from a plate of the best risotto, pan-seared chicken breasts and fresh Italian greens, Stephen sat back and watched Lexi. She'd ordered the carbonara and a salad. He enjoyed watching her eat, envying the fork in her mouth. He reveled in the fact that she didn't turn down the bite he'd offered her of his food.

“Tell me about being a pageant coach. How long have you been doing it?” Stephen asked over the plate of sour-cream pound-cake tiramisu.

Lexi slid her silver fork out of her mouth. “Officially, I haven't been a pageant coach in over ten years.”

“Where does Waverly fit in with your timeline? I recall her saying she was from New Orleans.”

“I offer my advice to Waverly. She is family, in the sense she attends boarding school with my niece.”

“I see. So, if you haven't coached in a while, why the sudden comeback?”

“Chantal, my assistant, approached me about adding a pageantry workshop for Saturday afternoons. She teaches a dance class at the center and some of the young mothers spoke up about being interested in it for their girls.”

“For the girls or for them?” he asked, thinking of some of the mothers this morning.

“With every pageant, there some mothers who want to encourage their daughters, and then there are those who want to live vicariously. They're the easiest ones to spot.”

Stephen felt as if a pair of jackass ears were growing from his head right about now. Lexi put out a good product. People listened to her. People followed her and they took her advice. She was driven, like him. “Chantal is wise.”

“She is.” Lexi nodded. “She is finishing her degree, working for me and teaching dance. She does it all.”

“Including volunteering your services as pageant coach?”

“In a way, it pays for itself. All the mothers buy my dresses.”

He did not want this evening to end. “Do you mind if I ask why you stopped being a pageant coach?”

The set of her eyebrows softened, as her smile faded slightly. “Let's say the time came for me to move on. I was sewing and designing dresses, but not selling them and when the opportunity came time to move on, I stopped.”

“You're great with kids,” he stated. “Didn't you enjoy it?”

“I did. It wasn't the kids, but more the situation.”

Stephen sat back in his chair. “We have all the time. Please elaborate.”

The material of her top shifted, giving a slight hint of the blush on her ample cleavage. “I'm not proud of all the things I've done.”

Uh-oh
. An alarm sounded off in the back of his mind.

“I told you I had to pay for school because my parents did not approve of my choice. Well, college tuition isn't cheap. I used my knowledge from my teen years as a beauty queen to get me the Miss Florida A&M University crown, which opened the opportunity for me to continue on to Miss Florida, as well as the opportunity to make more money by appearing in a few local fashion shows. Can you guess which one I chose?”

“Does it have anything to do with the infamous dress?”

“So you've seen the video?” The blush deepened and traveled to her cheeks.

Stephen nodded his head with a grimace.

“My folks stopped talking to me after that. But I was young and I had a plan. The dress was a visual essay to get into Parsons School for Design.”

“Why didn't you apply there in the first place?” Stephen asked.

“Eh, I wanted to hang with my friends Rosalind and Shannon a little bit longer, but that college life wasn't for me. I partied too much.

“My Grandma Bea reminded me about how much I enjoyed sewing as a girl and encouraged me to explore the field. I went to my folks and begged them to help fund the new adventure and according to them I was an embarrassment. Folks in town threatened to leave my family's bank because clearly if my parents couldn't control me, how could my dad control their money?”

“You're not serious.”

“Very.” Lexi tilted her head to the side. “I think they were afraid their money would be used to bail me out of jail.”

“What?”

“So I killed two birds with one stone. I created an unforgettable dress,” she explained.

The image of Lexi in the dress reminded Stephen he was a man. He shifted in his seat and cleared his throat. “And pageantry?”

“Well...” Lexi sighed heavily, “Do you know how many starving artists there are in New York City?”

“No?”

“Neither did I. So when a connection opened up for me to privately coach, I took it, which of course opened up enough dialogue between me and my mother.”

“Which was a good thing, right?”

A smile tugged at the corners of her red lips. “Not really, since it was her way of telling me how disappointed she was in me to, in her eyes, shack up with some man.” The sadness in her voice returned and despite the way she smiled across the table at him, Stephen knew something wasn't right. Who was this man? What happened? He wanted to see her to smile again, and the more she talked about it, the sadder she seemed.

The fork she set down against the dessert plate clattered into the silence. “So tell me, did you always want to do real estate?”

“I sort of fell into it,” he answered. Lexi propped her elbow on the table, cupping her chin in her hand to learn more. “Okay, so when I went to my grandparents' house in San Juan, the mainland,” he clarified. A lot of people were not aware of the other San Juan, a small Florida island city founded by his great-great-great grandfather, Victor Torres. “While I was there, I met a guy who wanted to scout out locations to film and he was in the wrong place, so I showed him some hidden sights in San Juan and all around. He hired me on as a driver at first, and then I became his location scout and my name got around in Hollywood.”

“Because you knew how to get around?”

“Because I have an eye for seeing the beauty in everything.” Stephen's eyes roamed over Lexi's face, slender neck and shoulders. She sat back and folded her arms over her breasts, causing Stephen to shake his head with a chuckle. How was he supposed to be on his best behavior with her seated across from him, looking as delicious as the dessert she devoured? “Which is how I became a broker. I'd buy homes from sellers, flip them and hang on until someone wanted to buy it or use it for a location.”

Lexi relaxed and her arms dropped to her side. “So you're a regular tycoon, aren't you?”

“Let's just say if we played Monopoly, I'd win,” he teased.

“Whatever,” Lexi poked out her tongue. “If you want to see some nice homes, remind me to show you around town.”

“There you go, selling me on Southwood.” Stephen reached for the glass of wine beside him and took a long sip. “I'm here to stay, but if you want to show me beautiful things, I don't have to look far.” His dinner companion instantly turned red and cleared her throat. “For a former beauty-pageant girl, you certainly don't take compliments well,” Stephen pointed out.

Lexi pushed the hair behind her right ear. “I can easily take them when I'm in the right, ah, location.”

Would she take a compliment better in his bedroom? He didn't ask but instead nodded. “I think I can understand.”

“Is real estate a family business? I believe Nate mentioned he did the same.”

“At eighteen I realized it was the easiest way to make fast money legally.” Stephen recalled his first sale at nineteen. He'd commissioned 7 percent and thought he was rich. “A shrink might cite my lack of parental support because my father often did not come home.”

“I'm so sorry!”

“Don't be. My father chased a ghost all his life, trying to keep up with the family fortune on my mother's side of the family. By not letting his father-in-law help with finances, he let his pride work him to death.”

“And so have you been able to prove him wrong? Are you as rich as you need to be and still have time for your family?”

No one had ever posed the question to him. He made all the money in the world he wanted, yet, when push came to shove, he would be damned if he couldn't be there for Ken's family. He thought of his brother's modest home in Southwood. It easily could have fit into Stephen's place. Yet Ken still had enough to provide for his wife and kids. “I guess I'm more like my father than I thought.”

The way Lexi pressed her lips together bothered him. The corners of her mouth turned downward with displeasure. “You don't sound happy.”

“I guess when I say the words out loud, I'm not.”

“So what are you going to do to change? Ever been close to wanting to get married and settle down?”

“I married Alexia Guzman in the third grade. Does that count?”

A shriek of infectious laughter told him it didn't count. He found himself laughing, also. A waiter came over and poured cups of coffee for the two of them. Lexi put several spoonfuls of sugar in her white cup and stirred the black brew with some cream until the mixture was the same color as her skin. When they were alone again, Stephen turned the question around and hopefully masked his sigh of relief when she said no.

“Oh, don't get me wrong. Men have proposed.”

Of course
.

“Because no one seemed to
get
me,” Lexi went on. “Look how long it took me to settle on one career in life. I had a lot to do and a lot to accomplish before I settled down. I want to come into a marriage already being worth something.”

“Sounds like mother issues,” he noted with a nod.

“Perhaps. My folks married because it was a match made in heaven, financial heaven. My maternal grandparents had lots of money and my paternal grandparents had a place for them to put it.”

“Pendergrass Banks?”

“Yes.”

Stephen leaned forward, intrigued with the idea of her parents. “How did your grandfather start things off?”

A coy smile spread across her lovely face. “Robbing banks.”

“You're joking?” Of course she was, her pearly whites flashing as she nodded her head.

“Yes, I'm kidding. My great-great-grandfather started a bank a long time ago in Samaritan—the longer you stay in Southwood you'll come to learn about the Four Points—but anyway, he opened up his first bank there and branched out. He was blindsided coming to Southwood and saw its prejudices, but he kept trying to make a name for himself, hence trying to walk a straight and narrow line, and avoiding rumors and drama. It worked for a few generations, I guess you can say, until I came along. I think the drama I've caused put my folks' arrangement to the test.”

His parents had married out of love, but the love ran thin after three kids.

“They're still married, right?”

“They're married, but I never thought they were happy.” Lexi's lashes lowered to the flickering flame between them. “I can't prove it, but I don't think they even sleep in the same bed—since I was born.”

The sadness came back to her voice. Stephen cleared his throat. “What do you think the secret is to a good marriage?”

“You got me.” Lexi sighed into her coffee cup and blew before taking a sip. “My two best friends are married and have been for years. They keep it going, I guess, by being brutally honest with each other.”

Under the lighting, her face lit up as she talked about her friends. “Brutally?”

“Yes, but I'd rather keep a scorecard for most guys. They have to rank high in the nineties in order to keep my interest.”

A smile tugged at the corner of Stephen's mouth. “Do I have one?”

“Bless your heart, I started a card on you the minute you walked through the doors of Grits and Glam Gowns.”

Stephen closed his eyes and groaned. “I can only imagine what my scorecard looks like.”

“Don't worry. Your marks are at least over fifty.” The corners of her eyes squinted as she bit the inside of her lips.

Stephen feigned a heart attack and clutched his chest. “I come from a long line of annoying cousins. I can dish brutal honesty and take it.”

“All right, then, try being brutally honest with me.”

Stephen leaned forward, as well. “I want nothing more than to clear off this table and thoroughly kiss you again.”

* * *

Once upon a time, Lexi would have taken the dare, but right now she had too much at stake. Resisting Stephen's seduction tested her willpower but at least he did not let her rejection spoil the moment. A flash of lightning struck the center of her diaphragm at his lazy yet dangerous smile.

After paying for dinner, Stephen came around to Lexi's side of the table to help her out of her chair. His hands caressed her shoulders, then fell to his side, where the natural thing to do was cup her hand in his. Instead of heading upstairs, he suggested they take a stroll and walk off some of their dinner. She did not mind one bit. Thank God for Spanx, or she'd be bursting at the seams right now.

Their footsteps fell in sync with one another. His strong, long legs had to slow down so she could keep up with him along River Street. Careful not to take a misstep on the cobblestones, Lexi leaned in close to Stephen for security. The evening's cool breeze off the Savannah River played the perfect wingman; Stephen stretched his arm around her shoulder and they cozied up together.

“These streets remind me of Villa San Juan,” she mentioned.

“They do,” he agreed. “You should come with me this summer when I bring the kids. I will show you the real city, rather than the tourists' side.”

The idea of spending more time with him left her dizzy. The last relationship she was in involved a spoon and Ben & Jerry's—the ice cream. She missed dressing up and going out with someone. Turned out his life seemed pretty much parallel to hers; he didn't date much because of work and even spent some nights in his office.