The Chocolate Garden (Dare River Book 2) (10 page)

“It’s a bit early for peaches, but I found these at the market, and they’re pretty tasty.”

Amelia Ann took a sip. “Oh goodness. This is wonderful. I do so love anything peach.”

“I know. That’s why I made the recipe. I thought of you when I saw it.”

Amelia Ann reached for her hand. “That’s sweet. So catch me up on everything. Rye and I keep missing each other.”

As she shared all her news, she realized she was leaving out how she’d invited John Parker to stay for dinner the previous night. She wasn’t ready to talk about that yet. But she did tell her sister about her upcoming consultation with him. And she handed her a business card, which Amelia Ann oohed and ahed over while Tammy told her about the calls she’d made to a few of the people she’d met at Rye’s wedding. One wanted to talk with her about doing the flowers for her daughter’s wedding while another was throwing a big party on Labor Day weekend and wanted to dress up his outdoor space.

“I’m so excited for you, Tammy,” Amelia Ann said when she finished. “Let’s toast. To Visionary Gardening. May it be all you could ever hope for and more.”

After clinking their glasses together, their hug was soft and brief.

“John Parker hasn’t said much about what he has in mind,” she continued. Her plan was to ask him some questions that would reveal any hidden preferences he might have.

“That’s a man for you. I can’t imagine Daddy ever having an opinion about something like gardening. Rye sure as heck didn’t.”

No, her brother had simply told her to do whatever she wanted. “That man dared to suggest he might throw down some old tires to use as planters.”

Amelia Ann’s musical laughter filled the kitchen. “He had your number, all right. Rye had just about as much interest in planting daisies in old tires as you would in being his opening act while he’s on tour.”

Yes, she knew that too. In his own way, Rye had been trying to help her find her footing by giving her the opportunity to do something she loved, something she could control. And then he’d paid her for it to help give her back her sense of worth and because she’d deserved to be compensated like the professional she was.

“My heart melts every time I think about it.”

“It’s so sweet, seeing you so over the moon about Rye now, just like I always was.”

Amelia Ann had stayed true to her brother during his estrangement from the family, while for a long time, Tammy had taken Mama’s side.

“There have been a lot of changes between the two of us, and I couldn’t be more grateful. I miss him and Tory a lot even though we talk every day. So do the kids.”

“I expect so,” her sister mused, plucking the peach off the rim and taking a big bite.

“Can I ask you something else?” Tammy said, wanting to change the topic to something less raw.

“Shoot.”

“Would it be scandalous if I stopped wearing panty hose? I noticed you don’t anymore, even with your skirts at the law firm.”

Her sister laughed so hard she almost fell off her chair clutching her stomach.

“I see that’s funny,” she drawled, and it was just the comic relief from the past they both needed.

“No, you were just reminding me of my own panty hose revelation. I wore them the first couple of days at the law firm until I realized I was the only one doing it. That day I came home and got out my shears and cut them all into little bitty rags. Then I tossed them up in the air like confetti and danced on their grave singing ‘Ding dong, the witch is dead.’ When I threw them in the garbage, I felt like I was walking on a cloud.”

Part of Tammy was horrified. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to deduce that the witch was Mama. “I’ve always hated the way they chafe and run.”

“And how it feels when you sweat between your thighs in this heat.”

“Amelia Ann Hollins,” she said. “I do declare.” But she hated that too.

“Oh, come on. I know we Southern belles aren’t supposed to sweat, but I do—in all sorts of places Mama calls ‘unmentionables.’”

Okay, Tammy did as well, but she never told a soul.

“I think we need to dig out your panty hose collection and do some serious cutting tonight after Annabelle goes to bed.”

“Ah…well, I won’t sing the song,” Tammy qualified. “It seems…kinda wrong to me, and I don’t think I could just throw them all away.”

“What are you planning to do with them? Make a panty hose quilt as a symbol of women’s repression?”

This time Tammy laughed. “Good Lord, what have you been reading?”

“Everything Mama and the good school system of Meade banned.”

Yes, they had banned books in her hometown, and sometimes people had even gone so far as to burn them. Until she’d visited the library here with the kids, she hadn’t realized that it wasn’t the norm.

“How about we burn your old panty hose then? Fire is cleansing,” her sister told her.

The idea was scandalous, but something inside her liked it—perhaps for that very reason. But still, burning them?

“I seriously have no idea what you’re talking about, honey,” she said.

Her sister’s wink was pure mischievousness, reminding Tammy of the times when Amelia Ann had snuck an extra sweet off the dessert table at church without Mama catching her. Of course, Tammy had been too afraid of Mama’s wrath to sneak anything.

“Didn’t you feel lighter when you cut your hair? Bought new clothes?”

“Yes.” But burning her unmentionables?

“How about I think about it? Let’s go see the kids now.”

She rose, and her sister followed her, not pressing this whole burning business.

Rory and Annabelle came a hollering when they emerged out back. Rory’s temples were wet with sweat, but his smile beamed like sunshine as he catapulted himself into his aunt’s arms, making them both laugh. Her daughter had grass stains on her shorts and dirt on her hem, likely from rolling around in the grass with the dogs and laughing out loud. Tammy loved to see her that way, so happy and carefree, not worried about impropriety or appearances.

She wanted that for herself.

Perhaps Amelia Ann was onto something with this whole burning thing.

Chapter 8

The office of the law firm of Kelly, Prentice & Stacks where Amelia Ann was interning was a posh array of polished wood, sparkling brass, and glass. The first time she’d come off the elevator, she’d fallen in love.

The power here was as thick as the muggy air of a Nashville summer.

Men and women wore smart business attire and strode down the aisles with purpose. No one here sauntered or strolled about like she’d been taught to do in Meade, Mississippi.

This was the big-time, and she was part of it now.

Even if she was an intern.

Of course she well knew J.P. McGuiness had probably helped her get the job by having lunch with one of the firm’s partners at Rye’s request. And everyone here knew she was Rye Crenshaw’s sister. But she wasn’t embarrassed if her connections had gotten her the position. She knew she would make it worth the firm’s while.

Some people were only nice to her because of who she knew, but she was able to separate the wheat from the chaff on that score. She was slowly making good friends and doing what she loved doing best.

Being the smartest legal mind out there.

Okay, well not the smartest yet, but she was learning.

The partner who had hired her, Jared Kelly, hadn’t expected her to be smart. The first thing he’d asked her to do was research property rights cases for a loophole in the current law in Nashville, and the way he’d barely glanced at her while giving her the assignment had made it clear his expectations were low.

Rye’s sister.

A pretty face.

What in the world could she know?

Had she shown him! She’d scoured the stacks in the firm’s law library, sleeping only four hours a night until she’d found exactly what he wanted.

His re-evaluation of her had been so extreme he’d offered her a glass of bourbon after reviewing her work, something he only did with his prize pupils. He had started looking at her mind now, and that’s the way she liked it.

He gave her more work after that, and she continued to burn the midnight oil and find innovative solutions to the office’s legal problems. With her ability to remember nearly everything she read, it was easy to catalogue her findings. They appeared like columns in her mind.

Her cubicle was situated with the other interns in what they called the bull pen, giving her little privacy—something that had taken some getting used to. It was supposed to engender transparency, but it made her more anxious instead. Every move she made was being watched, and it allowed for no slipups.

Not that she planned on making any.

Her stomach growled, and she eyed the clock. It was after two o’clock on a cloudy Monday, and she hadn’t eaten lunch. Locking her computer, she grabbed her purse to head out for a salad at the corner deli.

As she rounded the corner and made a beeline for her boss’ corner office, she spied Clayton Chandler sauntering down the hallway toward her. His eyes zeroed in on her face, but he didn’t smile.
Something’s wrong
. He was supposed to be on tour with her brother.

She increased her pace, and when she reached him, she put a hand on his arm. “What happened?”

A smile appeared—an expression she was unaccustomed to seeing on his face. “Nothing, darlin’. Everyone’s fine. We didn’t have a concert today, so I flew down here to attend to some business. The others are traveling on to the next venue.”

Her relief was immediate, and she became aware of the people mingling in the hall watching them. “Good. That’s good. You have business here?”

“Yes,” he responded. Short and to the point.

She hadn’t seen him since the wedding, and now that she knew Rye wasn’t in any kind of danger, she took a moment to drink him in. Clayton looked downright masculine in a gray dress shirt and black slacks. Part of her wondered if he was wearing cowboy boots, but she didn’t dare look.

“You’re a client here?”

“Yes, Jared Kelly is my lawyer. Mama’s too.”

Her boss? How had she not known that? Could
he
be the reason she’d gotten the internship and not J.P.?

“Jared mentioned you’re one of the brightest law students they’ve ever had working here. He said you’re both innovative and meticulous, a rare combo. It sounds like everything is working out for you.”

They were still standing in the middle of the hallway, and it wasn’t the most private place to ask him what was flashing through her mind. If he’d gotten her this job, she wanted to know it.

“Can you spare time for a cup of coffee?” she asked, choosing to forget his cruel comments from the wedding.

“Still looking to ‘dance,’ darlin’?” he drawled.

Like hot oil searing bread dough and making it bubble, his comment brought back the flush of anger she’d been trying to put behind her since the wedding. “No, I have something else to ask you, and since you’re a client…”

“That ploy won’t work, darlin’.” His mouth curved. “I’m not
your
client.”

Didn’t she know it? “You’re being difficult. I just want to ask you something. How about I walk you out? I was about to grab lunch anyway.”

He fell into step with her, and the cluster of people watching them fanned out like a flock of geese. Part of her was glad he hadn’t left her in the lurch. She realized it was time to stop dancing to Clayton’s tune; she was just going to play the tune she wanted and see what happened.

“It’s a bit late for lunch,” he mused as they reached the elevator.

“I lost track of time.”

“You’re working too much. And forgetting lunch? You’re so thin, a brisk wind could blow you away.”

So he didn’t find her attractive? Lovely. Just what she wanted to hear. Well, she wasn’t about to put on weight to please him.

The elevator chimed when it opened. “I love it here.”

“What are you working on just now?”

She leaned against the back wall as he pressed the button for the lobby. “Legal stuff.”

Again with that cocky grin. “I’m a lawyer, remember?”

An embarrassed laugh sputtered out. “Right. I keep forgetting that.”

His hand gestured to his body. “I don’t rightly dress the part anymore, but in my Vandy days, Rye, J.P., and I were spit and polished.”

“It might have been interesting to see that.” If he’d looked that incredible in a tuxedo at the wedding, what would he look like in a suit?

“Now, your dress. Well, that’s another thing all together.”

His drawl was like a slow caress along her skin, and she instantly felt the attraction rush through her. Fortunately, no one else was in the car with them because she was sure she was blushing. Damn it all to hell.

“Thank you,” she replied as they came to a stop and the doors opened.

“I wasn’t paying you a compliment, darlin’.”

She refrained from cursing, but oh, how she wanted to let loose a good one just to see if she could shock him.

They walked across the lobby, and Amelia Ann caught the appraising glances from the women in the lobby.

He held the door open for her. When they reached the front of the building, he stopped her with a hand to her back. It was a brief touch, but it shot desire down her legs.

“I have to leave you now,” he said. “What did you want to ask me?”

She boldly raised her eyes to his. “You dancing away?”

“If you must know, I need to follow up on the tabloid leak.”

“You what?” she gasped, stumbling backward until she bumped into someone on the street.

His hand shot out to steady her. “We have a promising lead on finding out who it is, so don’t you worry. We’re going to nail whoever spilled your family’s business to Gunner Nolan.”

They hadn’t stopped looking? “But—”

“What did you want to know, Amelia?”

The shocking news had wiped her mind clean, and she had to shake herself to regain composure. “Did you arrange for Jared to hire me?”

Something flashed in his eyes. “Why would you ask that?”

“That’s not an answer. I thought it was J.P., but now I’m not so sure.”

He drew out his phone, breaking eye contact. “No need to overthink it, darlin’. You’re here, and you’re enjoying yourself. That’s all that counts. Now, I need to run.”