Page 14 of Almost Had You

My heart pounds against my chest. Corner questioning. She’s heard the false story already. “Great. We have several booths sorted and the food and game vendors are already confirmed. Winnie is going to have a booth there to promote the shelter. I’m having pamphlets made to promote some of the new services we’re offering to the community. It’s coming together real nice…why do you ask?” She never takes any interest in my extracurricular activities that don’t serve her purpose to find me a husband.

“Oh, no reason. You must have been really into it to spend the night at Tannie’s. Wouldn’t you rather sleep in your own bed?”

Her familiar perfume enters my breathing space and I hold my breath. Whenever she’s this close to me, she’s either mad or wants a hug. I remember having the fight or flight response to this scent when I was a child. “Yeah, there were several emails we had to get out and it took a while. Plus, we had some wine and I didn’t want to drive. Tannie likes having company, anyway. You know that.” Though, she regularly spends the night at my house and not the other way around.

“Peculiar, that’s all. I’m worried about you,” Mama says. Her judging gaze rakes my outfit.

I clear my throat. “If you have something to say to me, just say it. You never do well beatin’ around the bush.”

She shrugs and looks at her perfect manicure. “Your father loves that you’ve taken such an interest in the festival this year unlike years past. He decided to add a new feature—a game if you will.” Oh, Sherlock. Why didn’t I catch her nefarious plan vibe? I’m usually so good at sniffing them out. Because I’m too busy lying and making my own reprehensible plans.

“Oh, really? What would that be? I have it all covered. Not sure we have space for anything else in the schedule.”

Her smile grows wide and absolutely terrifying. “We’re auctioning you off. For charity, of course. Your charity. Win a date with the mayor’s daughter. I’ve picked out the dress you’ll wear and everything. You know what a fantastic opportunity the festival is. All of the remaining eligible bachelors will come when they hear about it. They can’t say no to charity. Or Clover Wellsley.” My pulse ricochets in my ears. The threat weaves through the undercurrent of her words. Not only has she heard the story, this is the only way she’llforget it.Trust me, I need her to forget it. She has me pinned in a corner.

“You’re not joking, are you?” Red creeps up my neck and covers my face, I feel it coating my body like a telling second skin.

“I do not joke. I’m excited to spearhead it myself. Don’t you worry. I’ll make sure you end up with a handsome man. Someone who could be the one.”

I breathe out once and nod.You dished it out, Clover. Now you take your punishment.“Looking forward to it,” I reply, giving her my best pageant face. The deep desire to smother her with one of the twenty-two throw pillows on my bed rises, but I curtsy instead and excuse myself.

“Oh, and Clover?” One last nail in the coffin. I know my mother.

I pick up the cowboy boots next to the island in my kitchen. She makes a very obvious negative appraisal of them. “I have Mercer Ballentine’s welcome home parade scheduled for the festival too. I took over the duties from his mother this afternoon. It will be leading into your charity auction, of course.” Devious. Perfect. I don’t expect anything less. I need to get away from this place before I become like her, before the full metamorphosis happens and I’m stuck in the glass display cage that’s been created for me. All the lies I’m keeping only reinforce how close I already am to embracing the true Wellsley way.

I swallow hard. “Great. I was wondering how that was coming along. Seems like you got all the kinks ironed on out. Let me know if you need anything.” I lay my hand on the doorknob after sliding into my boots. She asks where I’m going and I tell her I’m going to check out a vendor, on a farm, in the next county over.

She puffs out her bouffant hair, like the full can of hairspray isn’t doing its job. “Careful, Clover. You have a lot on the line right now.”

“I’m not sure what you’re worried about, but I’ll drive safely. I can’t wait for the festival.” I slam the door as soon as she bids her goodbye and I call Tannie the second I get in the car.

“I know you’ve booked the vendors and games for the festival, but I need you to book more. My fate depends on it. Don’t ask any questions. What about the band that played the Christmas Cantata? We need them to play a set or two. Maybe they know someone up and coming in the area? Book ‘em too. Please.” Fill all of the gaps and space so there’s no way to fit my auction in is what I want to say to her, but I don’t.

“Okay, Clover, but you need to confess your sins later. Things are getting crazy and I know it has to do with what you’re not telling me.”

“Of course.” I hang up without saying goodbye and cut through a dirt side road to make my way to the Ballentine household with my pockets full of deceit.

Chapter Six

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Clover

“YOU DON’T LOOKlike yourself without your signature dress, Clover,” Mrs. Ballentine says, pulling me into a hug. Mercer met me out in the drive. He was pacing, hands folded behind his back, gaze eating the pavement. It made me wonder what he was thinking, what was bothering him. As soon as I got out of the car, he kissed me, tongue parting my lips in a groan, and I forgot to ask.

I ignore her low-key jab about my appearance, similar to the one my mama issued. “You must be so happy to have him home,” I say, grinning at Mercer. He hasn’t stopped staring at me since I entered his house. His home is nice by anyone’s standards. His family has been in Alabama for a long time. Not quite as long as mine though. Mercer was the first man I know to deviate from the plan laid out by family members before him. I respect him more than he knows for that.

“I haven’t felt whole since he was gone. I couldn’t turn on the news without crying. Without worrying about my baby boy out there fighting those monsters. I don’t want him to go back,” she replies, sadness swelling in her eyes. She turns to look at him, relief forcing her shoulders to relax once she sees him. He’s home. Not at war.

Mercer folds a large arm around her shoulder and kisses her on the top of her head. “No need to get weepy again. I’m home, and even when I’m not home, those bad guys don’t stand a chance. I’m safe.” He meets my eyes, and then his gaze skirts away as his smile fades. Seems I’m not the only one telling lies.

“I packed you a lunch,” Mrs. Ballentine says, patting underneath her eyes gently to not disturb her eye makeup. “Let me go get the picnic basket.” She retreats to the kitchen. Mercer takes my hand and guides me over to the sofa in the front sitting room.

“We have a problem,” he says, taking my other hand in his. I look down at our hands.

“That bad?”

He hikes up one shoulder. “You know how moms are. They sort of know when you’re omitting something.”

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