Midnight Ballerina (8 page)

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Authors: Cori Williams

Tags: #Midnight Novels

BOOK: Midnight Ballerina
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I FLIPPED THE last light off in the office building and headed out the front door, relieved that the day was finally over. We had gotten one of our biggest deals to date at Buchanan Builders. We were officially signed on for the project to construct a very high-end hotel that was coming to the area. I had been working on the deal for months. I was worn out but at least it was the good kind of tired, where I felt beyond satisfied and could finally let go of some of the stress brought on by bidding for the job. I’m sure that feeling would only last until we started working on it, though. I was pretty confident that my guys were the best, so I just had to remember that.

I turned my phone back on just as I got into my truck, seeing that I had missed a bunch of calls, and one was from Randy. It was pretty late and he didn’t even leave a voicemail, so I decided to put it off until tomorrow. I just wanted to get home, put some food into my stomach and go to bed. I would deal with whatever problem Randy had tomorrow.

I drove through town, which was mostly shut down for the night, wishing that Mamaw’s Kitchen was open because I was really hungry for some good home cooking. Places around town didn’t stay open much later than nine though, even on the weekends.

Mamaw’s Kitchen was my newest business, which I opened up within the past year. The place was hopping because everyone in town knew that Maggie Buchanan was the best cook around for miles. I didn’t open the place to make a bunch of money. I did it for my mamaw. Her and Granddaddy were the best things to happen in my life and changed the course of it for the better. So, while I loved running the construction company and it had been my biggest dream, opening Mamaw’s Kitchen held a special place in my heart. The building used to be Donna’s Diner and it shut down a few years back after Miss Donna passed away and her kids decided that they didn’t want to keep it open. Mamaw about had a heart attack when I dragged her in there and told her the place was all hers. She didn’t believe me, not for one second. I actually pulled out the deed just to prove it to her.

I helped her out along the way, mostly from the business aspect of things, and she loved every second of it, knowing that people loved her recipes just as much as her family does. After a little while, I convinced her that she didn’t need to be at the restaurant every second that it was open, and she hired a few people that she could trust with her well-protected secret recipes.

I pulled into my driveway and grinned when I saw the whole place lit up like a Christmas tree. Mamaw hated when I came home to a dark, empty house, complaining that a young man still under thirty needed to have a little fun in his life and not just work it away. I think she hoped that I would start bringing some girls around, namely Tara.

Growing up, Tara was a couple years ahead of me in school and never batted an eye at me. I doubt she even knew my name. But then she started working at the local library where Mamaw used to volunteer. Tara’s mom wasn’t in the picture, a lot like my own situation, and Mamaw took her under her wing. Those two became inseparable. I had always looked at Tara as sort of an older sister, but over the years, she began to see me differently and started flirting, which is how we ended up dating.

“You’re still up, old woman?” I smirked when I saw Mamaw’s appalled expression. She was sitting on the sofa covered up with one of the many afghans she had made that were scattered all throughout the house. She was watching one of her soaps, probably from a recording that I had to show her how to do about a million times before she finally caught on.

“Don’t you ‘old woman’ me, boy. I could outlast you any day, if I wanted to.”

“Mmhmm, I’d like to see you try.” I collapsed onto the couch, kicking my feet up after I pushed off the dress shoes that had been pinching my feet all day. I hated those things, which is why I usually kept a pair of work boots at the office, but I forgot to grab them on my way out this morning since I wore them home the other night after a long day out at a job site.

“I bet you haven’t eaten a thing all day,” she said as she stood up, folding the afghan and laying it on the back of the couch. “Always working so hard and never taking a break. You’re going to make yourself sick doing that. Don’t you think you’ve accomplished enough? You’re only twenty-six years old for heaven’s sake. Do you know what most young men your age are out doing right now?”

“Do you?” I retorted and she bit back a grin, still wagging a finger at me.

“When exactly am I going to be getting some great grandbabies?”

“Mamaw.” I sighed loudly, flipping on ESPN and leaning my head back into the couch. “Please don’t go there. Why don’t you bug Luke about that? Though I doubt he’s ever going to bring a girl home.”

Luke was my younger cousin by a year and had also been raised by my grandparents, so we were basically brought up like brothers. We’d always had a great relationship, never really competing for much like other brothers that were so close in age did, and I never had to worry about him stealing away any of the girls because he wasn’t interested in them. At all.

I think I actually knew before Luke and after he figured it out, he tried to hide it for a while. Eventually Luke outed himself when he got caught in his room with Todd Newberry. They definitely weren’t working on homework like they were supposed to be, experimenting was more like it. Mamaw screamed and slammed the door, not knowing what in the hell to do. Granddaddy chased Todd out of the house with his shotgun.

Things were tense around here for a while, but eventually my grandparents came around because they were good people; it just took some time because it wasn’t something they had ever dealt with. Luke struggled with it and I tried to be there for him as much as I could, but as soon as he graduated he was out of here. I couldn’t blame him, small towns were hard for someone that seemed so different to others. Luke wasn’t that much different, though. He still liked to play football; he was still smarter than me and liked to prove it anyway he could, and I could still beat the shit out of him if I wanted to.

Same old Luke.

“Well, no, I don’t suppose that will happen. I sure do miss having that boy around all the time. You never know though, things with Tara might get serious real quick.” I groaned again and she swatted my head as she walked past me and into the kitchen.

“Now, I know you’re hungry. I fixed you a plate before I left the diner for the night and you’re going to eat every last bite.”

I smiled, hearing the microwave pop open and then she began shuffling through drawers, pulling out everything she needed because she knew right where everything was.

Mamaw has her own place—well actually, it was all her land, had been for years—but most of the time she ended up at my house while I was gone, which I didn’t mind. Probably because of all the memories of Granddaddy, she didn’t like to be there alone too often.

After Pure took off and I opened up Buchanan Builders, I started looking at land to build my own place. Mamaw was pissed that I didn’t come to her first, baffled that I didn’t just assume I could have some of her land to build on. So, that’s what I eventually did. I offered to build her a nice guest suite onto the back part of the house, but she insisted on staying in the old farmhouse Granddaddy had built for the family all those years ago.

“So, how was work today?” she asked, bringing a steaming plate over to me and setting the tray on my lap. The woman thought I was still eight years old and needed to be taken care of. I guess tonight, I would let her because I could barely keep my eyes open.

“Good.” I picked up my fork and dove straight into my favorite of Mamaw’s, her macaroni and cheese. Best. Thing. Ever. I could never eat any of that shit out of the box. She ruined me for that kind of stuff.

“Such a man of many words,” she complained before throwing a napkin at me.

“That’s why you love me so much,” I answered, in between forkfuls.

“Uh-huh,” she murmured. “Well, I’m heading home. Don’t forget all the family will be here next week for Thanksgiving. I’ll start cleaning soon.”

I looked around, not seeing a speck of dust or anything misplaced, and rolled my eyes which she answered with a roll of her own. “Just hush, Miller. There’s cleaning to be done, you just can’t see it ‘cause you’re a man. Goodnight.”

I was kind of looking forward to the upcoming holiday. That meant some time off of work and being surrounded by my mostly crazy family. But that also meant the club wouldn’t be open and that equaled less opportunity to be around Monroe. It felt like there was something missing all day because I couldn’t make it over to the club, but I had stuff to get done at the office. Maybe tomorrow I’d get my fix in. God, I sounded like an addict or something and I barely knew her. Maybe I was, cause ever since the first time I laid eyes on her, I just couldn’t help myself.

What in the hell was Monroe Hartley doing to me?

 

 

 

 

EXCITED ABOUT HAVING a rare two nights off in a row, I was feeling drained and wanted nothing more than to spend them at home. I couldn’t use that as an excuse to skip out on the monthly shopping day that Amelia planned for us though. She wouldn’t let me even if I tried. I was never a big shopper. I used to be the kind of girl who went into a store, got what she wanted, bought it, and was done. That all changed when I met Amelia, basically because she wouldn’t let me. I tried to avoid it at first, but eventually I realized that shopping days with Amelia were really fun. Who knew I would ever be one of those girls?

“When do you ever find time to study lately? Or for any homework? You seem like you’re either at class or working. You’re not overloading yourself, are you? I know you have to pay bills, but I can help you out. I don’t want you failing all of your classes.”

Amelia finally took a breath, stopping to take a sip of her smoothie. It was our first break of the day after hitting up a few different stores, but I knew we were just getting started. Amelia was on a mission to charge up her credit cards. I think it had something to do with her mom. She kept mumbling about ‘that overbearing woman’ but when I tried to bring it up, she just smiled and flipped back her long, blonde hair, acting as if everything was just peachy keen. I let it go. I didn’t want to ruin her day, or fun. Amelia didn’t normally let herself go crazy when it came to shopping, but if she was sticking it to her mom, there was probably a good reason and I was totally for it. Mrs. Emerson most likely deserved it.

“Don’t worry,
Mom.
I’m not overdoing it, and I’m definitely not taking money from you. I’m pretty sure you know me better than that.”

She stuck her tongue out at me. “Uh-huh, Monroe Hartley, Miss Independent. Even if you were freaking killing yourself, you wouldn’t let me know. Someday it’s all gonna catch up with you. But don’t worry, I’ll be here to clean up the mess. ‘Cause that’s what best friends are for, right?”

“Right.” I grinned as she jumped to her feet and tugged on my hand, our short break already over. I was glad to have a friend like Amelia in my life, and I’m not sure how I got through high school without someone like her. Yeah, Carter was always there for me, but boys were boys and sometimes just didn’t get girls like they understood each other.

We shopped for what felt like hours, and probably was, before we ended up in a small boutique with an endless amount of dresses for all different types of occasions. I surprised both of us by splurging a little on myself and getting a complete outfit, including shoes. I couldn’t remember the last time I bought new clothes since money was always pretty tight, even when I worked at the sandwich shop. But now, tips were rolling in and I decided it was okay to actually enjoy spending my money for once.

“You
need
to try this one on,” Amelia demanded, shoving a short, blood-red lace dress into my hands. It was the kind that you needed to have somewhere important to actually wear it, not just an everyday, casual thing. This dress screamed expensive.

“Why? I don’t have anywhere that I would wear this.” I pushed the dress back into her hands but she simply shook her head, pointing to the fitting room manned by a snooty looking boutique employee, her nose turned up as if we weren’t good enough to shop there. Or she thought we were going to steal something. “Now, Monroe.”

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