Fireflies and Magnolias (8 page)

But she hadn’t been. And Rory or Annabelle had been in danger too. “I know that, but it doesn’t change the past.”

Sitting next to her, his gray eyes met hers squarely. “What could you have done differently, sugar? If she’d been ready for help, she would have said something.”

“You don’t understand. She couldn’t have said anything to me because
we never talked about anything.”
Her voice had risen, and the strain in it threatened to rip open her throat.

“But you do now, and that’s what matters.”

That’s what she tried to tell herself each day. She was there for her sister now…and she was using her expertise to help other women who were in difficult situations.

“You really do have a heart of gold, don’t you?” he asked softly.

His knee was mere inches from her own, and she wanted to shift and touch him so they could form another small connection. “I’m not a saint, Clayton. I have plenty of flaws.”

The corner of his mouth tilted up. “I bet you’ve never done a bad thing in your whole life.”

For a moment, she couldn’t speak. “You couldn’t be more wrong.”

His scrutiny made her nervous, and she could tell he wanted to press her for more information. So she picked up her satchel and rose. This time she would be the one to do the running away. “Thank you for the information. I’ll send you the email later tonight.”

“What are you hiding?” he asked, standing up, towering over her. “I can’t imagine you doing anything bad.”

This was not a conversation she intended to continue. “I believe my five minutes are over. I’ll let you get back to work.”

His hand curved around her arm, holding her in place. At his touch, immediate warmth pooled in her belly and
lower
.

“Times like this, you’re the most mysterious woman I’ve ever met.”

A reluctant snort escaped her mouth. Mrs. Augusta would have been horrified. “If you think I’m mysterious, you need to get out more.”

His chuckle stirred the hairs on the back of her neck.

“Honey, I get out plenty, but you…you seem so innocent, and then you up and tell me you’ve done bad things. Are we talking men here?”

“You know we aren’t!” And she tilted her eyes up to his to see if he could possibly have been serious. Doing so was a mistake. He was studying her like she was a familiar da Vinci painting that revealed new secrets upon each viewing.

“No, I didn’t think so. So, something else then. What could it be, I wonder?”

She yanked her hand away. “Now you’re just making fun of me. I may not be as worldly as you are, but I’m not perfect either. I suggest you remember that.”

“You’re only making me more curious.”

“Well, you know what they say. ‘Curiosity killed the cat.’ I’ll be in touch.”

His deep, husky chuckle made her belly quiver as she walked out of his office.

A curious Clayton was a dangerous one.

And he was already dangerous enough.

Susannah clicked her cell phone off before she entered the coffee shop she’d suggested to Amelia Ann for their meeting. Cream & Sugar’s walls were a bold red, paired with black and white accents. The Dare River establishment shared the funky design of the other local boutiques and was one of her favorites. The music was jazzy, but it played in a soft undertone so people could talk.

The clientele was mostly suburban. There were plenty of business professionals typing briskly on their laptops, but truth be told, she’d chosen the place because at this time of day it was mobbed by mamas watching their babies play in the children’s corner. She loved being around kids—anytime, anywhere. If art hadn’t seized her heart and soul in college, she would have become a teacher.

When she scanned the room, she saw Amelia Ann had already arrived. Her friend rose from a table in a corner and set aside a yellow legal pad and pen so she could hug her hello.

“Hey there,” she said brightly. “I’m glad this worked out. This is the first time I’ve been able to lure you away to meet me other than on Sundays.”

“I know, and I’m sorry,” Amelia Ann responded, stuffing her papers into a leather satchel. “My schedule is really full right now.”

“So, how are things?” she asked, signaling a server. Heavens, but she could use a cup of tea.

“Fine. Still getting used to my new schedule. Everyone was right. The second year of law school
is
much easier than the first. Thank God. But…there’s still a lot to do.”

She sensed her friend was holding something back, but she didn’t press. “I’m glad to hear it,” she said as the server appeared. “Jasmine green tea, please, with lemon and honey.”

“Good choice,” Amelia Ann said as the server nodded and took off. “I decided to treat myself to a mocha instead of black coffee since I have a long day. Whoever first thought to put chocolate in coffee should be kissed and often.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” she said, crossing her legs under the table. “So, tell me what I can do to help with the concert.”

Of course, she had her own thoughts on what they could do to make the concert special, but she wanted to hear her friend’s ideas first.

The server returned almost immediately with her tea, but after checking the color of the water in the pot, Susannah decided to let it steep a little more.

“Well, let me run you through the program so far. We're going to create three features on women who have overcome domestic violence. I’ll work with the heads of the local women’s shelters to compile a list of about ten women, and then you, me, and Clayton can choose our top three. Rye gave Clayton the final say. Rather, Clayton insisted on it.”

From the way her mouth pinched as she said that, it was obvious she wasn’t pleased. Susannah had known Clayton since his first days with J.P. at Vanderbilt. He’d changed a lot over the years, going from a preppy country boy to a hard-edged cowboy, business type. He was friendly, but not someone she gravitated toward at J.P.’s gatherings. Now, Rye. Well, he’d always been fun. Outrageous, sure, but harmless. At least with J.P.’s younger sisters.

“What are you thinking visually?”

The tea was ready when she checked again so she poured it into the cup and added lemon and honey. The first sip was sheer delight.

“The crew who shoots Rye’s music videos will do the spots. I haven’t followed up with Clayton yet, but I don’t think it should be a question and answer format. I think it would be more powerful if they just narrated their stories, including photos from their lives.”

“Yes, it personalizes a difficult subject,” she said, happy to hear they were thinking along the same lines. “I was thinking I could assemble a collage as a digital backdrop for the concert. It wouldn’t be up the whole time, of course, but maybe it can be shown for a song or two after he talks about the topic? Rye and Clayton can figure out the timing.”

Amelia Ann started writing down notes on her legal pad. “I like it. Go on.”

She took a deep breath before continuing. “What I’m envisioning is pretty…well, ballsy, but I can’t stomach the idea of watering down this topic. Domestic violence involves brutality, and I want to showcase both the reality and desolation of abuse and the radiance and strength of the survivors. I figure if the women can talk about the abuse they suffered, maybe they’ll agree to share pictures of what they looked like after being hit—as well as now.”

Amelia Ann’s brow was knit now, and Susannah paused. “Are you flat-out appalled by my idea?”

“I’m not appalled,” her friend said thoughtfully, her hands gripping her coffee cup now. “You’re right. We want to achieve the maximum impact here. But I won’t lie to you. It will cause some controversy, make some people uncomfortable.”

“The best art always does,” Susannah added, feeling the anxious pulse of her heart. “Do you think the women will agree to be represented that way?”

She took her time answering. “I think most will. They want the full truth to be known.”

Didn’t her mama always say telling the truth was the only way to be free? “We’d need photos from the women featured, but I don’t think we should limit it to three. The concert backdrops I’ve seen are huge. Perhaps we can include all the women who submitted their stories for the feature—if they’re willing to share the photos, of course. That way we aren’t excluding anyone’s triumph. And it goes without saying that we’d only accept women who are now in healthy situations.”

“I love it! I’ll speak with the heads of the women’s shelters in town to secure their support,” Amelia Ann said eagerly, scribbling frantically now. “We’d need a legal release for the photos, but we can handle that.”

“Wonderful,” she said with relief, tracing the rim of her cup as her mind assembled the photos she imagined receiving. A uniform color for the backgrounds would add to the effect. Her mind was already buzzing with ideas, her heart thumping in excitement—like they always did when she was jazzed about a new project. She jumped when Amelia Ann seized her hand.

“This is going to be awesome. We’re going to make such a difference with this concert, Susannah.”

A drooling toddler she’d been making eyes at earlier streaked away from his mama and made a beeline for Susannah. She gave the blond cherub a grin, fighting the urge to run her hand through his curls. She had to be careful with other people’s kids. They loved her. All kids seemed to. But some parents were fearful of strangers.

“Hey there, sweetie. Did you escape from your mama?” she asked as the little guy laid a hand on her leg.

“Up,” the boy demanded, holding out his arms.

“I’m so sorry,” his mama said as she ran up behind him. She scooped the little one up into her arms. “Howie, you mustn’t run away from mama.”

“Pretty,” he replied, pointing at Susannah.

And oh, if that didn’t charm her. “He’s a sweetheart,” she said, taking in the sight of the dried cereal on the neck of his truck T-shirt.

“And a handful,” the woman said, looking harried. “You seem to have the touch. Wave bye-bye to the nice lady.”

The little boy did, melting her heart. She was grinning when she turned her attention back to Amelia Ann.

“You’re a baby magnet,” her friend declared. “I mean I knew you were great with Rory and Annabelle, but…”

“So I’ve been told. I love them. They seem to know that.”

“You’re planning on having children then?” Amelia Ann asked.

“When the right man comes around, yes. It’s always been one of my dreams.”

The little boy was still struggling in his mama’s grasp, eager to return to the toy cars scattered on the floor by her chair.

“What about you?” she asked.

Amelia Ann shrugged. “I like them, but I think it’s pretty far off for me. I mean, I have school, and after that, I want to practice law. Right now, Rory and Annabelle fit the bill.”

Yeah, those two little munchkins certainly made life more beautiful for everyone around them. Only the night before, she’d dropped by her brother’s house for a drink, and Annabelle had given her part of her chocolate from the chocolate fairies.

She dug out her calendar, which she kept on her phone. “I want to set aside enough time in my calendar to do what’s expected of me. What can you tell me?”

Amelia Ann outlined the schedule that had been established for the features, and Susannah typed in the information.

“Rye also wants to bring in everyone, including Jake Lassiter, to watch them before the concert. I don’t know when yet. Rye told me he’d like you and me to each introduce one of the videos, which would mean attending the concert rehearsal a day or so before the actual concert.”

Her fingers flew over her calendar, typing madly. “Got it.”

“Rye’s going to introduce the third feature himself. We’re still waiting to see if Tammy is going to share her story.”

She stopped typing as her throat grew thick. “It would be a big step for her.”

“Huge.” Amelia Ann tried to smile, but the expression didn’t hold.

“She’s so brave,” Susannah said, setting aside her phone and taking her hand. “And so are you and Rye. It’s so wonderful that he wanted to do the concert, and J.P. told me it was your idea to include the women’s stories.”

“If I hadn’t come up with the idea, I’m sure his team would have suggested it. They’re very good.”

Yes, Clayton and Georgia were good, but even Susannah knew this type of outside-the-box thinking was outside their wheelhouse. “Don’t sell yourself short. Take credit where credit is due.”

Amelia Ann’s smile was self-deprecating. “Old habits die hard. Our mama didn’t raise us that way, but I’m not living like mama raised me anymore. I need to remember that.”

Susannah had heard enough about Mama Hollins to steer clear from that topic. Another kid ran over to their table then, making her smile.

The little girl looked to be about four, and she held a freshly colored piece of paper in her hands. The sun was a gob of yellow, lines of blue stood in for the sky, and there were a couple stick figures with exaggerated half circles for smiles.

“That’s so pretty,” she told the little girl, who thrust it out to her.

“Here,” the girl said with a smile. Her mama, who looked just like an adult version of her, came rushing up behind her.

“Frannie, leave that lady alone,” she chided.

“She’s fine. Really. I loved seeing her picture.”

“Here!” the girl said again, but louder.

“I guess she wants you to have it. I…hope that’s okay.” A slight flush spread over her mama’s cheeks.

She took the picture and pressed it against her chest. “It’s perfect. Thank you, Frannie. You’re a great artist. You keep drawing now, you hear?”

“Yes’m,” the girl said and smiled as her mama led her off.

The picture felt like a dozen brightly wrapped presents on Christmas morning. When she met Amelia Ann’s gaze, she lifted a shoulder. “They love me.”

“No kidding. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

She picked up her phone again, feeling a little embarrassed. “Well, now you have my ideas. See what Clayton thinks and let me know.”

“Don’t you want to pitch this to him yourself?” Amelia Ann asked.

“No. You seem to understand him better than I do, and frankly, I’m fine with that. He’s a nice guy, and I’ve known him a heck of a long time, but he’s too…stiff and cold. I’d rather you do it if you’re comfortable talking to him. Especially given the controversial nature of the piece.”