A Perfect Mess (15 page)

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Authors: Zoe Dawson

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Coming of Age, #Romance, #Contemporary, #New Adult & College

BOOK: A Perfect Mess
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Aubree

After spending the morning reading
The Fellowship of the Ring
to my aunt, I left Secrest Hospital and climbed into my car. I don’t know if it was my imagination, but she had looked better to me, more color to her skin instead of that pallor that had scared me so much the time I’d run into Booker. I felt optimistic that I would have my aunt back the way she had been. Warm and caring.

Those thoughts brought a host of others bubbling to the surface and set my stomach churning. I tried to focus on driving as the familiar scenes passed by me. A bunch of small, ranch-style houses—each with half of an old clawfoot tub sunk into the ground as a makeshift shrine to the Virgin Mary, painted a deep blue for serenity, a multi-hued wealth of blooms planted at the feet of each Holy Mother. Downtown, with its mix of old and new, modernized storefronts.

Outside the general store a throng of stooped, battered old men sat gossiping, playing checkers and watching attentively for strangers.

It felt good to fit in, and after seven years, I felt like I belonged in this town. They had accepted me and I was grateful for that, to finally have a home that meant something to me. Maturity was about recognizing what was important in life, and I was proud of my grown-up thinking.

I thought about the day my mother had died, and about my aunt rescuing me from the busy and almost sterile life of the city to this lush and magical place, welcoming me with open arms and a warm heart. I’d never known home in the truest sense of the word until I’d come here. Now, I felt fragmented, the various parts of my life at odds with each other.

I wheeled into Imogene’s crushed-shell parking lot and saw both Verity and River Pearl getting out of River’s Mercedes coupe. I waved and looked up at the blue, weather-beaten building that stood on the corner of Georgia Lane and Easy Street. Imogene’s faced the street and backed into the bayou with a screened-in back porch situated over the water. The restaurant didn’t look like much with its funky corroded tin roof and beat-up, old-fashioned screen door.

It was rumored that Imogene had been a voodoo priestess who practiced her art under the full moon. She was hanged for supposedly causing a hurricane and wiping out a small fishing village farther down the road, because some of the men there had raped and murdered her daughter, AnnClaire. It’s said the daughter’s ghost haunts the restaurant.

“Hey,” I said as I met them at the front door. River Pearl’s blonde hair caught the sun and sparkled, matching her glossy personality. Verity’s dark gypsy eyes smiled at me, but there was that same soul-deep sadness in them. Her dark hair was a tangle of midnight curls all the way down her back. I’d always envied her amazing beauty.

River Pearl led the way inside, the seductive sway of her unique way of walking drawing the eyes of every male in the place. Verity and I trailed behind her. The delicious aroma of hot spices and Cajun dishes saturated the air, evoking more memories of this place and my ties to it over the years. Fans twirled above us from the stamped tin ceiling, as they had for nearly eighty years. The same beat-up red diner stools I remembered from my childhood were lined up in front of the counter. The current owner of Imogene’s, Samantha Wharton, a young, pretty yank from New York City, ran the landmark vintage register. She’d taken Imogene’s over when it had fallen into disrepair and revitalized this treasure. For that, she’d won the hearts of everyone in Suttontowne. I for one was thankful she was also a great cook, and the glass-enclosed pie display that sat near the register would definitely make a believer out of anyone smart enough to order a slice.

We settled for a table in the back, on the screen porch overlooking the bayou. An airboat passed and I smiled to myself, thinking suddenly of Booker and his story of gigging that ‘gator instead of the bullfrogs they were hunting. I still wondered if he’d been pulling my leg.

I finally relaxed and let myself think about him. He’d been a hot, hot glow in my belly the whole day. The way he’d looked this morning, unshaven, the black stubble roughening his strong, sexy jaw. His shaggy hair a mess. When he stood in the sun, his eyes were this electric blue that I couldn’t look away from. I couldn’t keep my hands off him, and last night…he had been so sweet. Everything in me ached to touch him. Then those kisses in the guest room and the hall.
Swoon
, again.

We got our menus, ordered our drinks.

River Pearl said, “It’s so good to see y’all again. I sure missed you both. We really have to keep in touch. I especially hate that you were in The Middle of Nowhere, Africa, Verity. Much too far away from New York City.”

Verity shrugged. “The mission kept me so busy…with the work and all.”

“Well, we’re together now,” I said.

Verity nodded.

There was silence as we looked over our menus. We placed our orders.

“I’m so thankful that yank salvaged this place,” River said.

“Agreed. But it looks like we’re becoming a haven for yanks. Look at the Blue Coyote Spa. Mid-westerner bought it and really turned it into something grand.”

“Right. She has a pretty name,” Verity said.

“Skylar Bransom,” River said. “She dresses really funky, but I like it.” She turned to me and said. “Enough gossip about yanks. Let’s hear some gossip about one particular local. Aubree. Dish on Booker,” River Pearl tilted her head, her voice clear she would accept nothing less than my full confession.

She was stunning in the sun, her denim shorts and white crocheted top looking country-club fashionable on her. River Pearl always looked so artlessly put together, her makeup seemed a part of her rather than just applied, her hair plaited into an intricate braid. I always felt like a mess when I compared myself to her.

“What’s going on with him?” She stopped talking while the waitress set down our drinks. Once she left, River continued her interrogation. “Why didn’t you ever talk to him in high school?”

“He was too wild, too unpredictable. I was always trying to be—”

“Perfect?” River Pearl said, her brows hiked with challenge. I really loved her attitude. She never worried about just coming out and saying what everyone was thinking. Damn the consequences. I wondered what she would say about what had happened on Wild Magnolia Road. She would have probably told the truth no matter what it cost her. Damien Langston’s father wouldn’t have dared to go after River Pearl’s family. They were above reproach. Although I really wondered. Maybe her daddy would have swept it under the rug and told her to hush about it.

I made the decision, again, to keep it quiet for a very specific reason. Even as another thought occurred to me, I stuffed it into a different compartment. I was going to stick with the explanation I was comfortable with.

“Don’t look at me like that, Aubree. We all know about being perfect. For Verity it’s in the eyes of God. Fuck, she’s got Jesus to live up to. For me, it’s the Perfect Princess. God forbid I should have a bad hair day and it gets caught on film. We’re so freaking pretentious that we had to add an e to the town name. Really? We should have been horse-whipped back in the day. My family sure could use a wake-up call. God knows it should have happened when Chase left, but no. And the whole universe would come crashing down around us in the apocalypse if you don’t do the right damn thing.”

I wanted to say that I didn’t always do the right thing. Several times in my life I hadn’t managed it and all those times had to do with…Booker.

“Just do me a favor, if I ever trot around Rodeo Drive carrying a little dog inside my handbag, please plan an intervention. The Princess will have gone off the end of the royal pier.”

“Pact,” we said in unison and clasped our pinkies to seal the deal.

“So, Aubree. You sleep with Booker yet?”

I choked on my water and River Pearl gave me a shrewd little smile. “If you ask me, that’s the right damn thing to do. Yowza. Do those Outlaw boys get better looking every damn day?”

Verity frowned, her eyes snapping. “Sleeping with a boy is a personal thing, River Pearl, and it’s not to be done lightly.”

“I saw you looking at Boone. In his case, you can’t handle him. He’s much too reckless.”

“River Pearl!” I said, “Don’t be rude to Verity.”

“I’m not being rude. Sometimes, Verity, sex is just sex. You don’t have to be in love with someone to have sex. But your upbringing makes you think the way you do. You have a lot more pressure on you when it comes to sex.”

“We have been apart for a year, River Pearl. How do you know what I’ve done—or haven’t done—in that time? I could handle Boone if I wanted, but you’re wrong. He’s the last person on this earth I’m interested in!” she snapped. “And anyway, are you all of a sudden speaking from experience?” she asked. I’ve never seen her stand up to River Pearl before, but there was a new maturity to her, as if she’d been through the fire and been tempered a bit. Up to now, River Pearl had pretty much been the leader of our little band.

River Pearl saw it, too, but she looked delighted that Verity had challenged her. She’d always wanted Verity to become more assertive, which is why she’d said what she did.

“I’ve been out in the world since I was six years old. I’m not bragging when I say that I’ve had plenty of offers from men. But I was lucky to not only be born with a tough, gentle, somewhat overbearing mother who watched out for me, even when my teenaged angst got the best of me, but I was also infused with the assertiveness to tell them to take a hike. Show business really isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, and modeling is tough work. Being a Perfect Princess is even tougher. I’m sorry, Verity. You’re right. I shouldn’t be such a bitch.”

“You weren’t a bitch.”

“Okay, you’re the new bitch on the block.”

Verity laughed and they both looked expectantly at me. “I haven’t slept with him…yet.”

River Pearl’s lush mouth flicked up in wry amusement. “What are you waiting for? You can only regret the things you didn’t do.”

Not really in my case, but I couldn’t tell her that. “I’m waiting for him.”

River Pearl’s eyes widened. “What? That is…wow...well, hush my mouth.”

“River Pearl, speechless? I think I have to get a six-pack of Jax for Booker next time I see him,” Verity said smugly.

I couldn’t believe it myself. All this time, I’d wanted him and never done anything about it. This was the first act of rebellion I’d ever allowed myself, except for the secret, and now he was the one who wasn’t sure. Maybe that wasn’t quite right. He was sure. He just didn’t want to hurt me. I had already figured that out for myself. Booker was elusive and wild like the bayou. No one could really tame him, and I didn’t want that. I figured he was going to break my heart, but I weighed that against the experience of getting to know him in every sense of the word. I knew he was noble. I had seen it with my own eyes.

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to wait for him to get comfortable with it. It’s a big step for him. Admiring someone from afar is different than reality. Maybe once he gets to know me, the novelty will wear off.”

Verity sniffed and made a face of utter disbelief. “I doubt that! He’s had the hots for you since…as long as I can remember. If he doesn’t realize how wonderful you are as a person, then he simply doesn’t deserve you.”

“Aww, thanks, Verity,” I said.

“Is he a good kisser?” River Pearl asked.

“Swoon-worthy. He does this thing with his mouth, this rubbing, brushing thing.”

“That sounds hot,” River said.

“It is, and I have a date with him tonight.”

“I have no dates,” River said, glumly.

“You just got into town yesterday, both of you.”

“I don’t want any dates,” Verity blurted. “My dad is still completely overprotective and pretty determined to marry me off to that Billy Joe. Any boy interested in me would have to go through a third-degree as dangerous as walking through the gates of Hell. Plus, I think my fate is set. I totally understand why Ethan left. My father couldn’t get his own preacher son, so the next best thing is his daughter as a preacher’s wife.”

I touched Verity’s arm. “Don’t despair, Verity. You don’t know what will happen in the future. You can make your own fate.”

She smiled at me in gratitude. “It’s tough,” I said. “When I was in high school, I was too busy working my butt off to date. College isn’t much better, but I’ve been to a few parties.”

River Pearl sipped at her iced tea. “I have homework for the summer,” she said with a pout.

“Homework? You taking a class?”

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