Dangerous (21 page)

Granny made the best, homemade, cat head biscuits that I had ever eaten, and I had suggested on more than one occasion that she should open a restaurant. I bit into the biscuit, savoring it.

“I’ve got something to tell you,” Granny said.

Alarmed, I momentarily forgot the biscuit and focused on Granny. “What is it? Did my mother show up again?”

Granny patted my hand.
“No, dear.
It doesn’t have anything to do with your mother.”

“Is everything all right? Are you all right?” I asked, worried about her news.

“I’m fine, Dara,” she said, chuckling. “It’s nothing bad, but it might be a little unexpected for you.”

“Granny, you’re killing me. What is it?”

She smiled as she patted my hand again, watching me closely with kind eyes. “George and I are getting married.”

Elation spread quickly through my body, and I shot out of my chair and hugged her. “Granny, I’m so happy for you.”

“Thank you. I’m happy, too.”

I gave her neck another quick squeeze, kissed her on the temple, and returned to my chair. “When did he propose? How did he propose?” I asked, feeling the sudden need for details.

He asked me last night at dinner. She held her left hand out to me, wiggling her fingers until I noticed the solitary diamond engagement ring.

“Oh, Granny!
It’s beautiful! He did
good
!”

“He did,
didn’t
he?” she asked, admiring the ring. “He dropped down on one knee and everything,” she added. “And he said the sweetest words to me. He told me that he couldn’t imagine his life without me.”

I squealed. “We’re going to plan a wedding!”

Granny laughed. “Now, we’re just going to have a small ceremony.
Nothing fancy.”

“Oh! And I’m going to throw a bridal shower for you!”

“That’s not necessary, Dara. For us, the most important thing is being together.”

“Granny, I‘ve got to. I can’t let you get married without a bridal shower,” I said with conviction.

“Oh, okay,” Granny agreed, but just a small one. “We could have a few friends over.”

“Let me handle everything,” I insisted. “This is so exciting! Have y’all set a date?”

“At our age, we don’t want to wait too long. We’re going to get married in three weeks.”

“Three weeks?” I asked, surprised. “I have to get busy then.”

Granny beamed like a school girl who had just been asked to the prom.

In light of the good news, I scarfed down my breakfast, eager to spill the news to Crimson and Scarlet. My granny was getting married! How cool was that?

As the tepid water from the showerhead pelted against my skin, I imagined Granny in a flowing white dress with a bouquet of colorful flowers. I wanted everything to be perfect. I wanted to do something for Granny to repay her for everything that she had done for me.

I borrowed Granny’s car and drove to Crimson and Scarlet’s shop. When I walked in, I was surprised to see how much progress they had made. The walls
glowed
a bold shade of lime green, which complimented the zebra print accessories beautifully. They were setting up the lobby area with black, vinyl chairs that sported a modern flair. Clear acrylic end tables held black lamps with zebra print shades, and a glossy, black magazine rack towered in the corner, offering an assortment of entertainment magazines and hair design books like a silent butler. Loud music spewed from overhead speakers, and Crimson’s and Scarlet’s bodies rhythmically pumped to the beat as they danced across the zebra-print rug in the middle of the seating area to collect another chair to place in the seating arrangement.

This was nothing like the salon that I frequented with Granny. I watched them, expecting a disco ball to extend from the ceiling and shoot neon lights around the room. When they still didn’t notice me, I mimicked their dance moves as I closed the distance between us.

Scarlet noticed me first, and she let out a scream of surprise that was barely audible above the blaring music. She smiled widely and went to turn the music down as Crimson and I continued dancing.

“Holy smokes, Dara, you nearly scared the crap out of me,” Scarlet chastised as she rejoined Crimson and me. “So what do you think?”

“It looks amazing,” I gushed as I glanced around the salon and admired Scarlet’s knack for decorating. She accessorized better than anyone I knew.

“We are so freakin’ excited,” Crimson squealed, her huge, brown eyes revealing her happiness. “Is this not the most chic salon you’ve ever been in?”

“I don’t know,” I said as I purposely looked around the room. “The owner of the salon that Granny and I usually go to could teach you some wicked tips on how to decorate with gingham and plastic flowers.

“Plastic flowers?
Seriously?”
Scarlet asked, appalled. “Like, do they even make those anymore?”

“I have no idea,” I answered, grinning.
“But this place rocks.”

Crimson licked her finger and touched her arm, releasing a sizzling noise from her full lips. “We did do a fantabulous job, didn’t we?”

“We?”
Scarlet asked, furrowing her brow and glaring down her small, straight nose at Crimson. “I picked everything out.”

“Well, I agreed to it,” Crimson snapped. “And you didn’t decorate by yourself.”

“I’ve got some exciting news,” I blurted, interrupting them before their conversation turned into a full-blown trial of who did what.

Crimson squealed. “You and Stone are now an official couple!”

“Bite your tongue,” Scarlet shushed. “She needs to get back together with Chance, not hook up with a social degenerate.”

“He is not a social degenerate,” I chastised her.

“He hit your boyfriend,” Scarlet cried, defending her position.

“First of all, Chance is not my boyfriend, and Stone was provoked,” I explained. “But no, Stone and I
are
not a couple, and since I know y’all will never guess, I’ll just tell you.” I paused. “Granny and Mr. Milton are getting married.”

“How cute!”
Scarlet exclaimed.

Crimson hugged me. “That’s awesome!”

I couldn’t stop the incredibly silly smile that forced its way across my face. “Will y’all help me give her a bridal shower?” I asked, looking from Crimson to Scarlet. “I so want everything to be perfect.”

“Yes!” they squealed in unison.

“Do you already know where you’re having it?” Crimson asked.

“Granny said I could have a small one at home,” I answered.

“Let’s have it here,” Scarlet offered. “There would be plenty of space to set up tables and chairs in the center of the room.”

“Yes!” Crimson agreed. “It’d be perfect!”

“Y’all don’t mind?”

“Are you kidding?” Scarlet asked. “We’d do anything for Granny.”

“Do you know when you want to have it?” Crimson asked.

“That’s the thing,” I said, trying to give them a little bit of warning before I sprang it on them that we’d have to act fast. “She’s getting married in three weeks, so I want to give her the shower in one week.”

“Sheesh!”
Scarlet exclaimed, her eyes widening as if I had just asked for the impossible. “Let’s get busy then. You need to write down a list of everyone you want to invite, so that you can get invitations out. What about a cake?”

“I thought I could make cupcakes. We’ll have a small crowd, so it shouldn’t be too hard. I’m going to try to keep my costs down, so I can still put a little money back for my car. But I want to make it as nice as possible. I appreciate both of you helping me.”

“No problem. Mom will insist on helping with the food. She can make some mints and some hors d’oeuvres,” Scarlet suggested.

“I will love her forever if she could do that,” I promised. “Maybe you could check with her to see what she might be willing to do. Then I can get whatever else is needed.”

“We have some folding tables and chairs in our garage,” Crimson said. “Do you have any idea how many people you’ll need to seat?”

I thought for a minute. “It’ll be a small party.
Probably no more than twenty or twenty-five.”

“Any particular colors?”
Scarlet asked. “Mom has some white tablecloths, and we could accessorize in any color that you want.”

“I think it would be pretty if the main color was a pastel pink, but we could use any pastel colors.”

Scarlet rubbed her hands together, her perfectly manicured nails tipped in white. “This is going to be so much fun. I love a good party!”

“Are y’all moving in with Mr. Milton after they get married?” Crimson asked.

My heart fluttered when I realized that I hadn’t even thought about that. Where were we going to live? “I have no idea.”

“I wonder what kind of house he lives in,” Crimson said, plopping down in one of the new chairs.

“I don’t know,” I replied. “I’ve never been to his house.”

“There’s no time for idle chitchat,” Scarlet chided.

“You’re right,” I agreed, knowing I needed to get busy to pull everything off. “I guess I’d better get going. I’m going to stop by the bookstore and tell Stone the good news. Then, I’ll make a list, buy some invitations and fill them out, and get them in the mail.”

“We’ll have Dad bring the table and chairs over, and we’ll get the tablecloths from Mom and find out what food she wants to make,” Scarlet said. “Then we can compare notes with you later.”

I gave them each a quick hug and thanked them again. “I’ll talk to y’all later,” I promised as I opened the front door.

“Bye,” they called in unison.

The day heated up with every passing minute. When I stepped into the brilliant sunlight, I shielded my eyes with my hands and crossed the street to the bookstore. The bell chimed as I entered, and I spotted Tom posted behind the counter at the cash register. A few customers browsed quietly, and I hoped the sales would be good today for Stone’s sake.

“Hey, Tom,” I greeted as I approached the counter and leaned against it.

“Morning, Dara,” he said, pushing his glasses up his nose.

“I wanted to talk to Stone for a minute. Is he here?”

“He’s in the back somewhere, and just so you know, he’s not in a very good mood today.”

“What’s wrong with him?”

“I don’t ask,” Tom answered, holding his palms up in surrender. “My philosophy is to stay out of other people’s business, and they’ll usually stay out of mine.”

I pushed away from the counter and walked through the door that led to the kitchen. I glanced in the office, only to find it empty. There was no sign of anyone in the back of the building, so I gently opened the back door and peered out.

Stone was standing near his motorcycle under the carport on his cell phone having a heated argument. I watched for a moment before I opened the door any farther, listening to his side of the conversation.

“Dammit, Dad.
How many times have I told you? I did go over the numbers.”

“I know it’s going to be close, but if you’ll give me a little more time, I know I can make it work.”

“I know I told you that I was passing, and I still flunked out. Who the hell knows that better than me? This is different.”

He held the phone away from his ear and hung it up. “I don’t have to listen to this shit,” he grumbled to himself.

I pushed the door open a little wider. “Hey.”

He glared at me over his shoulder, his lips pursed, his jaw clenched. “Do you always eavesdrop on people like that?”

“Not always, but you sounded a little stressed. I thought maybe I could do something to help.”

“I don’t need any help,” he snapped, the anger and frustration still evident in his voice.

“Why don’t you just tell him why it means so much to you?” I asked softly.

“I said I don’t need any help,” he ground out between his clenched teeth, his jaw ticking as he worked the muscle in it.

My heart ached for him. I wanted to help him, but I knew it was impossible to help someone who didn’t want help. “I actually came by to tell you some news, but I guess it can wait until another time.” I slowly began closing the door.

“Dara, wait.”

I paused, peering at him through a wide crack in the door. He motioned for me to join him with his fingertips. I opened the door wider and walked to him, allowing the door to close softly behind me. I stopped about a foot from him, and he watched me silently, his facial expression matching his mood. My heart beat rapidly as it did every time he was near. I wanted to end the awkward silence, but my words were jumbled in my brain. I stood mutely, instead.

Stone’s clenched jaw relaxed, and he looked perfectly comfortable as he gazed at me, which was difficult to comprehend as my own heart continued to pick up speed. I thought it might explode.

Despite his anger, his fingers were gentle as he traced the curve of my neck, stopping to feel my pulse. He took a step closer, and I knew that he’d be able to tell that my pulse had just increased yet again.