Meant to Be: Southern Heat Series (5 page)

Sydney nodded in agreement. “Jagger dated my friend Julia for a short time. She’s actually coming to spend a few days with me.”

Jagger smiled but clinched his jaw at the news of Julia’s impending visit. “You’ll have to tell her I said hi.”

“What are you doing here? It’s a little early to open the house for the summer, isn’t it?” Mitch’s mama had taught him manners, which was why he continued to make small talk with Jagger when he really wanted to find out what the hell Sydney was up to.

“Actually, I’m getting the house ready to move here. My grandfather died and left me in charge of… well it’s more than I want to get into, but I decided I needed to get away.”

“I’m sorry to hear about your grandfather.”

“Thank you.” Jagger looked from Mitch to Sydney and then back. “Three’s a crowd, so I’ll leave you two. Give me a call sometime.”

“I will,” Mitch and Sydney said together.

Mitch glanced at Sydney, hoping that Sydney would, in fact, not call Jagger. Jagger was nice, but his reputation with women was more infamous than Mitch’s.

He led Sydney to a booth, sliding in across from her.

“Small world.” Mitch motioned for the waitress and ordered his beer. “Do you have Moscato? White wine.” He added at the waitress’s blank stare.

“We’ve got shah-bliss.”

“Chablis will be fine.”

“Is that how you say it?”

Sydney nodded.

“Chablis.” The waitress tested the word. “It makes me sound smart.”

Mitch shook his head. The social chasm between him and Sydney widened ever more. Not that he was ashamed of being from the south or even of living in a town with a waitress who didn’t know how to pronounce Chablis. Mitch had been enough places around the world to know dunderheads were everywhere.

“How do you know Jagger?” Sydney asked.

“His grandfather has a summer home on the outskirts of town. Jagger spent several summers hanging out with the riffraff of Charlotte Tavern when he was supposed to be working at his grandfather’s horse farm. How about you?”

“I haven’t spent any time with the riffraff.”

Mitch rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop his lips from curving in a hint of a smile. “How do you know Jagger?”

“I already told you. He dated Julia.”

“You didn’t date him too?”

Her head tilted. “He dated Julia.”

Mitch leaned forward. “So he asked you out, but you didn’t go.”

Sydney responded with a slight nod. “I like Jagger. He’s fun. If it hadn’t been for Julia, I might have said yes.”

There it was again. That annoying clench in his gut at the idea of Sydney and Jagger together. Mitch sat back, wondering if she was baiting him. The Sydney he’d known before wasn’t one to tease or poke, but the woman in front of him, while she looked like Sydney, a slightly older, sexier Sydney, was different. He grabbed the bottle of beer the waitress set in front of him and took a long swig. The triumph in Sydney’s eyes told him she’d gotten the response she wanted. She
was
poking.

“So, let’s cut the games. What are you doing here, Syd?”

She looked down and toyed with her wineglass. “I told you.”

“I don’t buy it. What’s that movie you made me watch in college where the guy says, ‘Of all the gin joints you walk into mine?’”

Returning her gaze to his, she sighed. “
Casablanca
.”

“Right. Your showing up in Charlotte Tavern, where I’m from and now live, isn’t a coincidence.”

“Did I know this was your hometown? Yes. But I meant what I said about needing something different. I wanted to find work with more meaning.”

Mitch shook his head. “You’re a doctor. Even in New York, I suspect there’s meaning to it.”

“Yes, but I wanted to work in a place that might not otherwise have the medical resources it needs.”

“Charlotte Tavern isn’t a third world country.” Annoyance flared, and he fought the feeling he was being too sensitive and hard.

“No. However, it doesn’t have the level of care most women have access to in metropolitan cities. But it’s trying. What drew me was the free clinic. Charlotte Tavern is a small rural town, but it has its priorities straight. Thousands of women die every year because they don’t get proper screening and treatment for women’s health issues.”

He took another sip of beer, not wanting to be swayed by her passionate mission to help women in his small town. “So, my being here… just a small inconvenience?”

She took a sip of her drink, but the flash of heat in her hard, narrow eyes suggested she’d have rather thrown it on him. “I was curious to see you. To see how you were. I hoped you might be… friendlier. But I’m not surprised you’re still so bitter and angry.”

“Really?” He ground his teeth, resisting the urge to say, “Well, duh.”

She shrugged, as if it were nothing. “You always had a short fuse and hung on to old infractions.”

“I was eighteen. What did I have to be angry about?” He was working overtime to keep his voice calm, but even he heard the tightness in his tone.

“You never forgave Carter Lyons.”

“He deleted my thirty-page term paper!”

“It was an accident. One he tried to make up for many times.”

“So you just deleted me, and I’m not supposed to be angry?”

Sydney looked away in the same manner his mother always had when he was on her last nerve and she needed a second to pull herself together before boxing his ears.

When she looked back, there was a fierceness in her eyes he’d never seen in her before. “I didn’t delete you. You deleted us.”

The temper he’d been working to keep at a mild hum threatened to explode. He leaned forward, working to keep his voice even. “You got that wrong.”

She sat back. “I understand that you were angry that in my practicality and naiveté I let my parents persuade me to wait to get married. But I had every intention of spending my life with you. You.” She pointed her finger at him. “You’re the one that ended things. If you want to be mad at someone, Mitch, look in the mirror.” She grabbed her purse and exited the booth, muttering, “This was a mistake.”

He considered letting her go. Nothing she could say would make what she did right. And clearly, she had no intention of “resolving” this. The fact that she kept blaming him was proof of that. And yet, something in his gut told him he was missing something. He bolted after her, tossing several bills on the table. “Let me walk you out.”

“Don’t bother.”

“Charlotte Tavern is like any town. There are bad elements.”

She shivered when she stepped out into the darkness. He couldn’t blame her for being nervous. Charlie’s Place was so far outside of town there were no lights other than its broken neon sign.

She hurried to her car, jerking the door open. Just as he reached her, she turned to him. She must not have realized how close behind her he was, because she nearly ran into him. Her eyes widened for a moment before narrowing in on him. “You like to blame me for listening to my parents and blame them because you think they didn’t approve, but you were the problem, Mitch.
You
had a problem with their wealth. Let’s face it. You were relieved when I suggested we postpone the wedding.”

She was a whisper away, and he was unable to keep his gaze from drifting to her lips. His body heated at the memory of the soft sweetness of those lips. Finally, her words sank in, which was a good thing, because he was precariously close to kissing her to discover if she tasted the same. “That’s ridiculous.”

“No, it’s not. You could have talked me into marrying you when you got back from boot camp, but you didn’t even try. You just said it’s over and left.”

Her head nodded slightly, as if she was daring him to kiss her. But he was stronger than that — he didn’t pull away, but he didn’t close the distance either. Still, her lush pink lips tempted him.

Finally, she saved him from himself. She slipped into her car, pulling out of the spot as soon as she got the engine started. He expected to see anger on her captivating face as she gave him one last glance out the window. Instead, he saw pain.

S
ydney’s emotions
were in a tug-of-war as she sped away from Mitch. On one end was anger. On the other end was profound grief. Standing so close to him, feeling his warmth, inhaling his scent, the memory yarn in her hormones fired up the love and desire that had filled their once seemingly perfect relationship. It was clear now: there was no possibility of getting it back. And she feared she’d never find a love so pure with anyone else. Not that she believed in fairy tales, but what she’d had with Mitch was as near perfect as she imagined possible. He’d been patient with her shyness, yet pushed her to stretch herself. He’d made her laugh and helped her find perspective when faced with overwhelming challenges. He’d look at her with such love in his gorgeous green eyes, making her feel as if she was the most beautiful woman in the world. No one had ever made her feel as safe and confident to be herself as he had. And, oh, how she’d loved him. Just thinking about it made her heart ache.

As her car neared civilization again, she remembered Julia’s visit and her promise of moonshine. She poked the button on her steering wheel to activate voice command and asked for the nearest ABC location, the only stores allowed to sell hard alcohol in Virginia. Fortunately, one was directly along her route. She was surprised to find many different brands and flavors of moonshine. She selected a basic 90 proof, which the store clerk said was the closest to the moonshine made in the back hills of Virginia. She paid and headed home.

She was barely in her apartment when she heard a knock. For a brief, unguarded moment, her heart leapt with hope that it was Mitch. She shook her head of that thought and opened the door.

“Hey there, sister from another mister! I brought you a gift.” Julia reached to her side and pulled a man into the door with her.

“Patrick.” It took Sydney a moment to register that he was there. Her two best friends just when she needed them. Relief and gratitude washed through her.

“You got us both, baby.” Julia stepped into the apartment, wrapping her arms around Sydney in an enthusiastic hug. “The three musketeers back together again.”

“I hope it’s alright that I came.” Patrick kissed Sydney’s cheek.

“Of course it’s alright. She needs us. Patrick here has some sort of psycho babble, mumbo jumbo conference in Washington, D.C., right up the road.”

It was a little farther than up the road, but still much closer than New York. It wasn’t a correction that needed to be made, especially to Julia, so Sydney ignored it.

“I’m glad you both came.” Sydney shut the door, and then put an arm around each of her friends to lead them into her cozy apartment.

“I can stay at a hotel—”

“No. Julia will sleep with me and you can have the guest room.”

“See, like old times.” Julia grinned at both of them.

“And look what I picked up.” Sydney released them and picked up the bag she’d set on her door-side table when she’d heard their knock. She pulled the bottle from the bag. “Real, honest to goodness moonshine.”

“Cool.” Julia took the bottle. “But doesn’t real moonshine come in unlabeled mason jars bought in clandestine backrooms?”

“Not anymore.”

“Prohibition ended a few years ago.” Patrick took the bottle. “Looks potent.”

“Let’s have some.” Julia grabbed the bottle back and headed toward Sydney’s kitchen. “Then tell us about your meeting with Mitch the bitch.”

Sydney winced. Mitch was being a jerk, but she had a hard time listening to someone else, even her best friend, bad-mouth him.

She followed Julia into the kitchen, taking possession of the bottle and pouring drinks.

“Wow. I think I’ve burned my esophagus.” Julia held up the glass of moonshine, studying the clear liquid.

“Oh.” Sydney choked as the liquid seared its way down her throat. “You’re not kidding.”

Even Patrick’s dark eyes watered a bit at the potent liquid.

“Maybe we should add something to it? I’ve got juice.” Sydney diluted the moonshine with cranberry juice, and then they all sat in her living area, as she told them about her first encounter with Mitch and the events of the evening.

“A long time to hold a grudge.” Julia reached for Sydney’s hand.

“Or he never got over you.” Patrick said the words nonchalantly, but there was something about the way he followed the statement with a large swallow of the potent moonshine that made her wonder if he was jealous.

“Oh. Could that be it?” Julia’s brows knitted together.

“I doubt it.”

“What if it was? Would you get back with him?”

Julia’s tone had a worried tinge to it. “It’s not even a question worth asking. It’s over. Has been over. I see that now. I suppose I always knew it. Losing him was just such an abrupt change in my life that I never processed it.”

“Let’s talk about something else. Is the bacon down here really better?” Julia asked.

Sydney hadn’t realized just how much seeing Mitch had put her out of sorts. She had been whirling through life without a tether until Julia and Patrick sat in her living room drinking moonshine and discussing the merits of southern cuisine. With them, she was home. Safe. She could always count on them to ground her and make her feel loved. “Thank you for coming. I really needed you guys.”

Julia and Patrick gave her puzzled glances.

“Well, of course.” Julia lifted her glass of moonshine. “All for one and one for all.”

S
ydney endured
another restless night with Mitch haunting her sleep. Initially, the dreams started out pleasant. The Mitch she’d known in college smiling and lovable, holding her and promising to always love her. Then he’d morphed, his features turning dark, as he pushed her away into a dark abyss. The falling sensation woke her, leaving her to grieve her loss in the darkness.

Make-up did little to hide the dark circles, but fortunately, neither Patrick nor Julia said anything. Instead, they chatted and prepared for Sydney to show them her new, albeit temporary life in Virginia. Sydney was sure bringing Julia to a country fair was a bad idea, but she’d promised a few of her patients she’d go and knew it would be a good way to become a part of the community. Not that she’d ever be considered a local. The term local was reserved for people born and bred in Charlotte Tavern, but southern tradition included hospitality that allowed for outsiders, even northerners, to be included in the community. If Sydney was going to make the best of her year in Charlotte Tavern, she needed to participate in town events, such as the Dogwood Fair.

“Wow, this is country, isn’t it?” Julia climbed out of the back of Patrick’s rental, stepping into the soft grass that made up the parking lot. “I’m glad you made me change my shoes. My Jimmy Choos would be ruined in this.”

“I’ll make sure she behaves,” Patrick whispered to Sydney.

“Is that possible?” Sydney grinned.

“Well, I can try.” Patrick winked.

“I can hear you,” Julia said in a singsong voice.

The three walked toward the fair’s entrance.

“There are a lot of interesting smells.” Julia scrunched her nose.

“Nothing worse than the New York subway.” Sydney scanned the area. “I think that section is for animals.”

“Like a petting zoo?” Julia asked.

“No. It’s livestock, like pigs and cows.”

“They can be cute. What’s that over there?” Julia pointed to an area running along a wooded border.

“I think that’s crafts and homemade items. We should head there. Some of my ladies have booths.” Sydney started toward the row of tents of vendors.

“Your ladies? You’ve adopted them already?”

Sydney glanced at Patrick, wondering if he was using his shrink stuff on her or just making an observation?

“They’re my patients. They’re my ladies.”

“That’s good.” His hand rested on her back. She and Patrick shared a familiarity that allowed for touching, but she hoped he wasn’t getting any ideas now that Mitch was completely out of the realm of possibility.

They walked along the rows of booths filled with homemade soap, quilts, and jams. It reminded Sydney of the farmers’ market she sometimes visited in New York with bright fabrics, colorful stone jewelry, and the scent of lavender from sachets and soap. Each vendor was busy with people of all shapes and sizes touching, sniffing, and occasionally tasting homemade treats. Along it all, the sweet scent of kettle corn hung in the air.

“Look at that painting. It’s really good.” Julia stopped outside a booth filled with landscapes. “Did you paint that?”

The vendor stood from her chair, setting her knitting aside. “My daughter painted that. She’s in Iraq right now, so I’m staying with her babies and helping her make some extra money for when she comes home.”

Sydney stepped forward, scanning the paintings. “Can I see that one with the sunset over the mountains?”

“Are you going to buy one?” Julia asked.

Sydney nodded. She didn’t need a painting, but she wanted to help the woman who was sacrificing raising her children to serve her country.

“This is one of my favorites.” The vendor brought the canvas to Sydney. “It’s down at Potters Creek. Have you been there?”

“No.” Sydney turned the painting over and read the $30 price tag.

“It’s real nice there. But don’t go without four-wheel drive, or you’ll be stucker than a fly in molasses.”

Julia snickered. Patrick coughed as if he was drowning out Julia’s ill-mannered chuckle.

Sydney pulled two twenties from her wallet. “I’m sorry I don’t have change.”

“No worries. I’ve got some.” The woman waved away Sydney’s concern and began to reach for her cash box.

“That’s okay.”

At first the woman’s eyes narrowed and Sydney worried she’d hurt her pride. But then the woman smiled. “Well, that’s mighty nice of you.”

“This is a wonderful picture. Worth every penny. Can I leave it here for now and pick it up when I’m ready to leave?”

“Well, of course. I’ll just set it in the corner.”

“Thank you.”

As they walked away, the vender wished them a “blessed day.”

“Is that an NRA booth?” Julia pointed to an exhibit across the path.

Patrick looked to where Julia pointed. “It looks like it.”

“Wow. I want to see.”

Sydney sighed but followed as Julia made her way toward the tent.

“Look, they’re raffling a gun.” Her expression was incredulous. “Is that legal?”

“Must be.” But Patrick sounded surprised too.

“Do you think I could enter and win?” Julia’s enthusiasm concerned Sydney. It was the kind of excitement that often got her in trouble.

“You wouldn’t be the first New Yorker to get a gun from Virginia.”

Sydney stiffened and turned at the sound of the deep, dark voice. Mitch. Duel emotions of grief and anger swirled at the sight of his mesmerizing green eyes. He was dressed casually in jeans and a pale yellow golf shirt that hung loose from the waist. A slight bulge at his hip suggested he was carrying a weapon, making Sydney wonder whether he kept his gun with him even when he wasn’t working. Or maybe he was working.

“Well,
hello
.” Julia’s gaze blatantly took an appreciative inventory of him. It was another reminder to Sydney of how little she and Mitch knew of each other’s lives. He’d never met her childhood friends.

“Julia, this is Mitch. These are my good friends from New York, Julia and her brother, Patrick.”

Julia jerked back, her demeanor turning less friendly. “Doctor Patrick Andres,” she clarified. Now that she knew who Mitch was, she was going to become snobby. Unfortunately, that would just prove Mitch’s point that they came from different worlds.

Mitch extended his hand. Julia’s shake was limp but, fortunately, Patrick had the good manners to offer a hearty shake and hello.

“What are you doing here?” Sydney winced at the indignation of her tone.

One bronze brow lifted. “It’s the fair.”

“Oh. Right.”

“Are you following her, because that’s stalking. There are stalking laws in Virginia, right?” Julia took a protective stance next to Sydney.

“There are stalking laws. But since I was born and raised here, I don’t think I’m the stalker,” Mitch replied coolly, never taking his gaze off Sydney.

“Hey, there you are.” Lexie trotted up to Mitch, thankfully cutting off whatever Julia was about to say. Lexie looked from Sydney to Mitch, apparently trying to figure out what was going on.

“This is Lexie, Mitch’s sister.”

Julia extended a limp hand to Lexie and lifted her nose with an air of superiority, while Patrick graciously said hello. Sydney glanced at him, hoping he’d read her mind
. I thought you said you’d make her behave.

“Are we having a committee meeting?” Drake strolled up, draping an arm around Lexie.

“We’re having something,” Lexie murmured. “This is my husband, Drake Carmichael. These are Sydney’s friends, Julia and Patrick.”

“Drake Carmichael?” Patrick extended his hand. “As in Carmichael Corp?”

“That’s right.”

“The stores?” Julia gaped.

“Yes.”

“I’d heard one of the brothers married and moved away. That’s you?” Julia gave him a hearty handshake.