The Bachelor and the Beauty Queen (2 page)

“Lady, after what my niece went through, we're far from done,” he whispered before straightening upright and squaring his shoulders at her assistant.

Andrew squared his lineman-sized shoulders backward. To the naked eye, Andrew appeared to be just a six-foot-tall mass of muscle with a long scar that raked down the left side of his cheek. One might assume the scar came from a knife fight, but in actuality it was from a hard lesson learned after running with scissors. Thankfully, today Andrew puffed his chest. Most people found him intimidating before they realized he was a teddy bear.

Mr. Reyes was not most people. He cast a rueful glance over his shoulder and laughed at the lack of danger. “I'll be seeing you around, Ms. Pendergrass.” Without another word or glance he walked out. Lexi stood in disbelief.

“Who in the hell does he think he is?” Chantal breathed.

“My future boo.”

Giving a heavy sigh, Lexi rolled her eyes toward the natural lighting of the sky roof. “Too soon for jokes, Andrew, too soon.”

* * *

The emotional roller coaster Stephen had ridden in the past twenty-four hours was beginning to take its toll on him. At least sitting down in the backseat of his Lincoln Town Car, while his driver rode through the streets of Southwood with the air blowing on full blast, allowed Stephen to get a grip on his mental state before seeing the girls. He did not believe the ferocious protectiveness he'd felt when he learned his sixteen-year-old niece was in danger.

Since the death of their parents, Stephen had indulged his two nieces' every whim. When Ken and Betty Reyes had passed away earlier that year, Stephen, along with his younger brother Nate, tried to honor the will and testament that left them with guardianship of the two girls. Together, the brothers tried to keep the living arrangements as simple as possible. They both packed up their respective homes in Atlanta and moved into Ken's house.

The living arrangements weren't ideal. Neither of the brothers wanted to move into the master bedroom, which left both of them taking two of the smaller bedrooms downstairs. Stephen didn't put up a fuss. He wanted the girls to still live in the house they grew up in and attend the same school as their friends. The uncles let Kimber and Philly spend as much time with their elderly maternal grandparents as they wanted, from which stemmed part of the problem.

Stephen had no problem packing up his business in North Atlanta to move into the girls' home. The business he created allowed him to work from any location, which currently meant out of the bedroom he occupied. Reyes Realty provided a number of services. One was helping families find their dream homes, and the other was Stephen's brainchild. As a location scout for producers in the entertainment world, whether movies, television or musical productions, Stephen traveled a lot. To make up for things he missed out on, he knew he overindulged the girls, especially Kimber, who had taken her parents' death hard and become withdrawn in the first few weeks. Finally, after spring break, Kimber had started to open up.

The night in question, Kimber had asked permission from Stephen and Nate to spend the night with a friend instead of going over to her grandmother's. Now they had learned Kimber and her friend had sneaked out of the two-story home to attend a party across the Georgia-Florida border. “Another spin around the block?” His driver, Keenan, hidden behind a pair of mirrored sunglasses, craned his neck to see through the rearview mirror into the backseat.

“I think I'm good now, Keen.” Stephen inhaled deeply and blew out a smooth breath. Seconds after leaving Grits and Glam Gowns, Stephen's breath had been ragged and quick. Lessons from anger-management classes had taught him to breathe through his emotion. Something about Lexi rubbed him the wrong way, in a way he did not expect. Miss Pendergrass's tantalizing perfume clung to him. The time spent in the car cooling off should have helped Stephen gain control of himself and his recent interaction with the boutique owner. Much to his dismay, he had a soft spot for women who smelled as delicious as her—a mixture of flowers and cake. Stephen shook his head, snapping himself out of his erotic daze, and reassured Keenan of his decision.

Women like Lexi Pendergrass came a dime a dozen. He'd had her number the second he stormed into her office. Gold trophies, diamond tiaras, sashes, photographs of herself and what he assumed were her parents posed in front of a mansion-style home. She was a spoiled party girl with an expensive hobby to keep her occupied until—judging from her ringless finger—marriage.

The dress confirmed his impression. The dyed blond hair paired with her maple-sugar skin, while sexy as hell, supported his theory, as well. Stephen loosened the knot of his tie and tried to focus on the matter at hand.

As an uncle, he needed to look beyond the tempting Miss Pendergrass and remember what a bad influence a woman like her was on impressionable young girls. Kimber had nearly gotten herself attacked when she was wearing such a provocative dress. The police had no new information on her attackers, but someone needed to pay. He had decided to start with Lexi Pendergrass and her store. She needed to be put out of business.

As one of the top realtors in the nation, Stephen recognized a sales pitch when he saw one—especially when it came with a 3-D model. The boarded-up business next door to the gown shop had clued him in even more. Lexi Pendergrass planned to expand her shop? Over his dead body.

While he wasn't a parent himself, he relished his role as uncle for two very impressionable nieces. If Lexi thought she would update the wardrobe of this sleepy town, she had another think coming. It would serve her right if he outbid her on the purchase of the bakery next door. Stephen had started off his career as a location scout for a Hollywood producer and kept up with his connections. A lot of the Southern producers in Atlanta were looking for a picturesque, one-streetlight town; Southwood, Georgia, could hold the title. Norman Rockwell couldn't have painted anything better.
Hell
,
he might just keep it, considering his bedroom-slash-office was becoming cramped.

The locksmiths were pulling out of the driveway by the time Stephen's driver dropped him off. He shook hands with the elder man and thanked the crew before waving them off with the invoice for the completed job in his hand. The two-story brick home with black shutters sat in a typically quiet neighborhood. The setting reminded Stephen of the street he grew up on in Florida. They were far away from the hustle and bustle of downtown but not too far for a morning job. One of these days Stephen planned on taking the girls down to the park, but with a pool, slide and jungle gym in the spacious, fenced-in backyard, he'd become lazy. Things were going to change around here.

The unmistakable catchy tunes of a PBS show echoed down the hall. Five-year-old Philly had clearly returned from weekend visitation with her grandparents. The beige carpeted steps were littered with pink doll clothes and shoes. Sticky pink handprints covered white walls right under the family portraits leading the way to the second floor. Thank God for wipe-away paint.

“I'm home,” Stephen called out, shutting the door.

“Uncle Stephen!” Philly, in her favorite pink tutu and purple unicorn top, came tearing into the foyer and threw herself into Stephen's arms. “I had cotton candy.”

“I can tell.” Stephen shifted Philly onto his hip and walked into the family room. The child ate like a horse but weighed next to nothing. Her biggest downfall was her sweet tooth, something her grandparents overindulged. “Did you have fun?”

Philly nodded, the two ponytails high on her head, wrapped with pink ribbons, bobbing back and forth. “We went on a picnic this morning.”

Sprawled out on the couch, Kimber Reyes glanced up and rolled her hazel eyes toward the spinning ceiling fan. She sighed heavily and stomped one foot on the hardwood floor, then the other. Was she supposed to be mad at him? And when did she get her phone back? Stephen was sure he'd taken the bedazzled gizmo from her. Her colorful nails swiped the pink screen of the phone in her hand and she popped a piece of bubble gum between her teeth.

“Philly, will you find the coloring book we were using last week, the one with the princesses?” Stephen leaned over and placed Philly on the ground. Knowing he'd put the book up in the desk in his room, he banked on a few extra moments of quiet with Kimber. Stephen turned off the TV and sat down on the empty cushion beside her.

An audible sigh emerged from her, clearly warning him to tread carefully. “Kimber, put the phone down.”

In dramatic fashion, Kimber tossed it beside her and folded her arms across her chest. “Do we have to do this?”

“What?” Stephen chuckled. “Talk? I can't help being concerned about you, Kimber. What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking I would hang out with my friends. Some of them happen to be boys.”

“Boys?” Stephen spat.

As he choked on her news, Kimber pleaded with him, batting her lashes. “C'mon, Uncle Stephen, don't act like you didn't date when you were my age. Abuela told me all about you, Daddy and Uncle Nate. She didn't imprison you in your home.”

“I dated,” he said with a nod, “but growing up in Villa San Juan back then was a whole lot different than growing up here where you're sneaking out at all hours of the night, dressed as you were, to meet up with...
boys
.” The term barely came out of his mouth. “Besides the new bars on your window, I've also eliminated some of the other temptations.”

Kimber turned her face toward his. “What did you do?”

“I went to the dress shop. Can you believe the owner claims to not recall selling this to you?”

Kimber banged the back of her head against a pillow. “Tell me you didn't.” Kimber, a miniature replica of her beautiful mother, turned bright red. “You went to Grits and Glam Gowns?”

“Where did you think I went?”

“Maybe the police station or something.” Kimber gaped. “I wish you wouldn't have gone.”

“I wish you'd tell me where you got the nerve to put a piece of trash on and walk out of the house.”

“Okay, fine. I went to meet my boyfriend, okay?” Her bottom lip quivered.

The sound of bones cracking when he rolled his head filled the family room as Stephen squared his shoulders and cracked his neck. He glowered at his niece and clenched his fists together at the idea of some boy trying to grope her. Wasn't it last Christmas she'd asked for a Barbie dream house? “You're sixteen.”

Kimber hugged herself and shrugged, not making eye contact. He doubted Ken would have allowed such shenanigans. “I'm not too young.”

“Okay, Kimber.” Stephen chuckled. “I don't know what's going on here or who even said you could have a boyfriend, but I say you're too young. Do you understand how much danger you were in last night? Thank God that police officer spotted you.”

“I wouldn't have had to walk to meet Marvin if I had a car.”

The absurdity of this request for a car did not fall on deaf ears. Stephen found the other part of what she said important. “Who in the hell is Marvin?”

“Uncle Nate met him.”

Stephen's mouth twisted into a crooked smile. Marvin was not the name of some three-hundred-pound high school boy with the arms of an octopus. Marvin was the name of some pimply, brace-faced bookworm kid. “Don't even bring Uncle Nate into this.” Stephen shook his head and tried to focus on the matter at hand.

Kimber blinked innocently at him. In an instant his anger disappeared. She needed the guidance of a woman. Obviously, she'd been at a loss, and he quickly put two and two together. Kimber must have befriended Lexi Pendergrass and under that friendship had gotten some seriously bad advice.

He softened his glare and smiled gently. “Listen, I'm not good at this parenting thing. I almost had a heart attack last night.”

“I'm sorry.”

“I still don't get what possessed you to sneak out,”

Pressing her lips together tightly, Kimber shrugged. “I don't know. The football team had an overnight game, and I needed to see Marvin and I thought...”

The thought of his niece dating a football player at an away game at a hotel and in that dress—Stephen covered his face with his hands and shuddered. “You thought wearing a dress like that would get his attention?”

“He's a senior and all the girls around here are throwing themselves at him!” Kimber squeaked.

Any minute now, there would be tears, which Stephen did not handle well. He hated when his girlfriends cried, and buying something sparkly for them did the trick. “Look,” he sighed, “sneaking out to meet him is not the way. I need to meet this Marion.”

“Marvin,” Kimber drawled out with a whine.

“Whatever. I need to meet him first before you start giving yourselves labels.”

Kimber's brows shot upward with excitement like a kid on Christmas morning. “You can meet him at the fair tomorrow!”

“Who said you could go? You're still grounded.” Stephen stifled a smile.

“I have to go. Philly's in the pageant and I need to help.”

He frowned now with the thought of Lexi Pendergrass and her case full of trophies. His anger shifted once again to the dress-shop owner. He still was not through with her.

Chapter 2

C
ursing under her breath, Lexi cringed at the ring of the front bumper of her car banging into the meter on Sunshine Boulevard as she misjudged how much room she had for her diagonal parking space. Lexi shared the blame for her lack of parking skills with the eye-catching Sale Pending sign wedged in the boarded-up glass window of Divinity Bakery. Her heart soared and all she wanted to do was run over to Mr. and Mrs. Foxx's café and thank them. Their sign however wasn't just turned over to Closed, but an On Vacation notice hung below the sign.

All week, she and the elderly couple had passed each other like two ships in the night. Considering the way things had ended Monday morning, Lexi feared Mr. and Mrs. Foxx had reconsidered selling the store. Now finally, she was inches closer to achieving her goal, having an all-in-one boutique. “Well, damn, girl!”

After reminiscing over her past the previous night, Lexi had decided today to wear a pair of skintight denim jeggings with an old T-shirt knotted to the side.

“Safe to assume the sign is good for us?” Andrew asked, pulling her into his arms and then dipping her backward, causing Lexi to gasp. “Did they call you from the road?”

Lexi straightened herself upright and shook her head. “I only saw the pending sign when I pulled up. I hope they left a message on the machine. Did you hear anything?”

“I haven't checked yet,” said Andrew.

“Uh, no, ma'am. I don't care what day of the week it is.” The corners of Chantal's mouth turned upside down as she shook her head back and forth. “You haven't dressed like this because you're a businesswoman now, a consultant, the owner of a one-of-a-kind dress shop with a reputation for being the good-luck charm for every girl that comes here for a dress. Everyone knows a dress bought from your shop is guaranteed a placement, if not a title, in any pageant. If one of the sponsors or parents comes in here while you're dressed for the club, you're going to lose a lot of credibility with the mothers bringing their kids in for the pageant workshop.”

With Chantal following Lexi into her office and rattling off the agenda for the day, Lexi picked out more appropriate work attire from the closet. She chose a red A-line skirt and matched it with a scoop-neck red-and-white polka-dot sleeveless blouse.

To generate an interest in pageants in town, Chantal had set up a workshop for two Saturdays a month where kids could learn the art of energetic and confident pageant walks. She spent at least thirty minutes of each workshop making the girls practice holding their wrists and hands in a cupcake-like style. Her team, made up of Chantal and Andrew, helped hone talents and emphasize their beauty.

The classes ended up overcrowded with young parents eager to find a venue that would put their kids on track for a reality show.

As a business major at Lexi's college, Chantal had recognized the full potential of Grits and Gowns by adding pageant coaching. She had approached Lexi and asked her to take Chantal on as an intern to help maximize the boutique. “Roll your eyes if you want, Lexi Pendergrass,” Chantal continued, “but you know I am right. Expanding costs money. So I need you to dress appropriately for the kiddies at the fair trying to win one-on-one time with you.”

Chantal quickly crossed the room and took hold of Lexi's elbow, steering her toward the dressing rooms. “I'm making sure you don't ruin your reputation—because of what some jerk said to you,” Chantal scolded. Her eyes darted outside the large glass window. “We have a lot at stake here. Your pageant workshop was so successful. Let's concentrate on the next few paying classes.”

“Fine.” Lexi sighed at Chantal. “I'll go upstairs and change.”

“On second thought—” Chantal snapped her fingers “—I made sure we have all the dresses ready for pickup for the Peach Blossom Pageant tonight.”

At the beginning of every summer, the town held its annual Four Points County Fair. Lexi had once held the title of Miss Peach Blossom. Once she was in high school she went on to bigger pageants.

“The girls' dresses are already steamed and in the back for them to try on,” Chantal said. “I need to go over to the hardware store and get the tape so the girls know their marks when they're walking.”

“Don't worry about taping anything.” Lexi snatched up her keys. “I'll run upstairs to the loft. I'm sure I have some.” A few months ago she'd purchased a condo in the downtown district after spending several months living out of the loft above the boutique.

“Well, hurry up.” The bell above the door jingled. A strange vibration filtered through Lexi's veins when the man stepped fully inside. The afternoon sun glowed behind him, but warning bells went off in the back of her mind as she realized the visitor's identity. The room went silent with awkwardness.

“Mr. Reyes?”

The way his black eyes pierced her, she felt naked, exposed. She reached for the collar of her T-shirt and gave the material a modest tug. Mr. Reyes's eyes focused on the two other people in the room before settling his glare on Lexi and giving her body a once-over. Once again, he earned a perfect ten on her personal score card in overall appearance and stage presence. Decked out in khakis and a white button-down Oxford, he commanded the attention of everyone in the store. Even the music stopped when he walked inside.

She didn't scare easily, not really. At least not usually. Lexi folded her arms beneath her breasts and raised an eyebrow, hating herself for giving him a perfect ten for his walk. He'd strutted into the shop with confidence. “May I help you?”

“I just was looking for Mr. and Mrs. Foxx.”

“They're gone.” Andrew perked up and offered. “If you would like coffee, I can make you some while we wait for them to return.”

Mr. Reyes gave a tight smile. “No, but thank you for the offer. I came by to get the keys. They didn't happen to leave them with you, did they?”

“Keys?” Dread washed over Lexi. In the back of her mind, she replayed his eyes scanning over the model of her planned expansion. She mentally calculated the price of his suits, guessed the ballpark figure of his net worth. Her heart sank into the pit of her stomach. A tear threatened to form in the corner of her eye. The lack of a phone call and the Sale Pending sign next door... The blood rushed to her head and swelled against her ears.

“Yes, the property next door.” Mr. Reyes gave a half smile, clearly enjoying dropping this news. He pointed toward the space standing between her boutique and the coffee shop.

“Mr. Reyes, I am busy.”

“Yes, you are.” His voice trailed off as his eyes cast disapprovingly over her. “Please, since we're going to be neighbors, call me Stephen.”

As a former beauty queen, Lexi held her composure with a stiff smile. All this over a dress? What a petty man. Contestants received extra bonus points based upon behavior. Stephen's score now dropped to a zero.

“Neighbors?” Andrew asked for her.

“Well, we need to go over the legalities,” he said casually, “but I need a place to move my business, so I put a bid on the place next door.”

“This is ridiculous!” Chantal spouted what everyone thought. “You seriously outbid her because of a dress?”

Stephen's attention turned toward Chantal for a brief moment, then to Lexi. Unlike Chantal, Lexi did not cower. She squared her shoulders and jutted her chin forward.

“You gave me some sound advice,” he said to her. “You told me I needed to keep a better eye on my niece, so here I am—making sure she never sets foot in this shop again.”

Silence fell over Lexi, who was not sure what to say. “I did promise we weren't done.”

“All this because you
think
I sold your niece a dress?”

“I don't think,” he clipped.

Lexi inhaled a sharp breath. “I would like to meet this niece of yours. No one here has sold my personal dress to a child.”

“So now my niece is a liar?”

“I am saying there has been a mistake.”

“She's either a liar or a thief?” Stephen raised a brow.

The room grew hot. Lexi's cheeks flushed red. She had to get her bearings. Pressing her nails into the palms of her hands as she made a fist, Lexi slowly breathed in and out. “If you would be so kind as to bring your niece in here, we can get to the bottom of this mystery.”

“Ha!” he scoffed. “I think you've done enough damage to my family.”

Lexi opened her fists. “So this is like some sort of revenge plot?”

Stephen sniffed the air and contemplated his next words. “Actually, it's going to be a lot like that. I think, instead of never selling my niece a dress again, I may decide to have you never sell a dress again, period.”

From the arrogance in his voice, Lexi imagined him to be the type of man to stroll into a restaurant without a reservation an hour before closing and order Lobster Thermidor or a rack of lamb. His entitlement irked her.

“Well. I see that no one left my keys here with you. I guess I'll be on my way to their home and pick them up.” He nodded his head goodbye in Chantal and Andrew's direction.

Once the bells over the door stopped chiming, Lexi let out the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. “What just happened?”

* * *

Turning a bakery into an office would take most of the summer, but doing so made sense. Things in his current home office were too close for comfort. Technically he blamed himself for the loss of his keyboard. One of these days he needed to remind Philly not to take food out of the kitchen. The wonderful cotton candy her grandparents had bought deflated and brought in a trail of ants on his desk. The new building was hardly turnkey ready. Thankfully he had Nate and his toolbox to help get things in order to open up the brand-new location of Reyes Realty. He needed this space. The fact it irritated the beauty queen was icing on the cake.

The brief glimpse of upturned pink lips displaying her disappointment, however, did not satisfy him. For a brief moment, a twinge of guilt hit him. Stephen did not, by nature, set out to be cruel to women—just women who threatened his niece. Is this what parenting did to a person? Made them vengeful and spiteful? Stephen refused to believe her story about not selling the dress to Kimber. Anyone could have made the sale.

The sound of the gravel crushed beneath the tires of his brother's SUV reminded him of the crushing of Lexi's dreams. Since last seeing her, he couldn't get her face out of his mind. Sad or mad, the woman was beautiful. He wondered what a happy smile looked like on her, or better yet—a satisfied smile after being thoroughly made love to.

“Are you smiling because we're going to the fair?”

The sound of his brother's voice broke Stephen out of his daze. In the passenger's seat, he glanced over to his left at Nate behind the wheel and offered a lopsided grin. “Of course.” Stephen cast a glance toward the backseat, where the girls sat wearing matching Atlanta Braves jerseys. He wanted to be able to peer over heads at the small fair and locate any of them if they got separated. “I'm ready to get on some rides and eat some food. How about you, ladies?”

“I'm ready for my crown,” Philly called with a bright smile from her booster seat. Her soft brown hair, pulled back into one ponytail by his own two hands, bobbed back and forth. It had taken him six tries, but finally Stephen had gotten the ponytail to stay.

Nate groaned and banged his head against the headrest. “Did you remember to bring your caboodle?”

“Her what?”

“Her caboodle,” Nate replied. “The pink case holding all of her makeup—”

“Makeup?” Stephen choked as they parked. Three of the four doors opened while he remained firmly in his seat. “What are you talking about?”

“The Miss Peach Blossom contest?” Nate said with a slow mocking tone before he stepped out from the car. “Where has your mind been all week? It's the only thing Philly's been talking about.”

How did parents keep up with two children? What an ass he'd been. And again, he placed the blame on Lexi. If she hadn't sold the dress to Kimber, he would be able to focus on everyone.

“I didn't realize this contest included makeup. Kimber and I already spoke about growing up so fast, and now you want to put makeup on the baby?”

Someone opened his passenger door and Philly stood in front of him with her hands on her hips, glaring up at him. “I am not a baby!”

He reached out and, like a child, Philly eagerly climbed into his arms. “Sure you're not a baby.” She smelled like one—baby lotion from the pink bottle, to be exact.

“It's just make-believe, Uncle Stephen,” Kimber said, patting Philly on the back. “Soap and elbow grease.”

“I don't like the idea.”

* * *

Inside the walls of the county fair, a wave of screams shattered the air. Metal wheels screeched through the daylight, and the shadows of the fast-flying cars zipped through the air and circled into a loop with another wave of screams.

Nate rolled his neck around. “Can we go
inside
the gates now?”

“Yeah, everyone is staring at us.” Kimber popped her pink bubble gum against her back teeth while she looked up from her turquoise cell phone.

Stephen's brows furrowed together. He was sure he'd taken away a phone earlier this week that was pink and then purple. Was he going crazy?

“Marvin is waiting by the corn-dog stand,” Kimber informed them.

Stephen didn't give a flying flip where Marvin was. Instead of saying something rude, he tightened his hold on Philly and tightened his smile. “Well if he's waiting...” he said sarcastically.

“Uncle Stephen,” Kimber said in a warning voice. “You promised.”

“Yeah,
Uncle Stephen
,” Nate mocked with a wink, “you promised.”

He couldn't make any guarantees. Maybe since he'd done one not-so-nice deed today, his time at the fair could be tolerable.