A Tiara Under the Tree

Feeling naked, Waverly folded her arms across her chest. “The words sound like a compliment but your tone is more insulting.”

“Never insulting.” Dominic’s deep, calm voice sent a ripple of chills down Waverly’s spine. “The city loves you. They voted you Miss Southwood.”

Waverly waved off his flattery with the flick of her wrist. “I was voted in by a panel of judges, one of whom happened to be your fraternity brother.”

“Are we going to stand here and argue over your popularity again?”

What she wanted was an answer about where he’d been but asking meant she cared. And Waverly told herself she no longer cared. Whatever Dominic considered popular in small Southwood did not compare to his when it came down to those billionaire associates of his. Okay, so fine, in his absence Waverly had thumbed through the last few issues of Forbes. Dominic rubbed elbows with royalty, folks who wore real diamonds in their tiaras, not Swarovski crystals.

“You may have confidence in me, and maybe even the town, but the Morality Committee doesn’t.” Waverly didn’t have to be a psychic to know what his next word was going to be.

“F—”

She held her finger up in the air and shook her head. Waverly glanced around the nighttime scene of Southwood. No one was on the streets now. “Need I emphasize the morality part?”

“I am not the one heading for the Miss Georgia Pageant. Why do I have to watch my language?”

“My title puts me around children. I can’t have anyone hanging around who is swearing like a sailor.” Waverly pressed her back against the car behind her, the metal cooled her heated thighs. “I don’t want to take any chances, Dominic, and lose my shot. I thought you understood. I have to win the runoff.”

“You’re a shoo-in. I’ve been following you on social media.”

Waverly gulped at the idea of Dominic caring enough. “Did you need anything else from me?”

His eyes went toward the scoop neck of her teal T-shirt. Waverly tugged at the hem to distract him from the swell of her breasts. Cool air rippled against her skin. Dominic cocked his head to the side and Waverly swore his eyes moved toward her hips.

With a huff, Waverly rolled her eyes. “I’m leaving.”

Dominic took one long step toward her, catching her by the wrist. Her pulse quickened. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. His thumb traced circles against her bones and veins. Waverly willed herself not to shiver. She avoided Dominic’s penetrating stare, glancing outside at the Salvation Army Santa ringing his silver bell. “But you did ask the question.”

“Seriously Dominic,” said Waverly. She didn’t move her hand and had no idea why she let him hang on to her except she liked the feel of him.

“I am trying to plan something nice.”

“Aren’t you a regular Kris Kringle?” Waverly said, her voice dripping with snark. “You just come to town doing favors for people?”

The fluorescent lights caught the few highlights of his hair. “I let the Christmas Advisory Council down. I want to make it up to them and I need your help.”

“Offer them a free oil change.”

“I have a lot more to offer than my grease monkey skills. I thought you knew that, Waverly.”

Waverly gave his attire a raised brow. “How am I supposed to know? It’s been a long time.”

“Really, Waverly? It’s been so long you’ve forgotten?”

“What I remember is your bright idea for me to enter Miss Southwood, against probably my only friend in town, and then you left.” Waverly went back to folding her arms across her chest.

“There was more between us. I think you know that. I don’t give a damn what your committee says or those stupid memes.”

A pang seized her heart. She didn’t want to discuss her humiliation. She realized now that trying to ask Dominic where he was made her fear his answer. He was embarrassed by her. Waverly didn’t think she’d live down her past. Someone with a lot of time on their hands spliced the early-summer footage of Waverly taking her tiara off her head from her resignation with the fall video of her charging Vera at the hospital and made it appear as if Waverly tackled herself. With Christmas around the corner, someone also thought it would be funny to superimpose Waverly’s face on a child’s body; she was sitting on Santa’s lap. Santa was asking what she wanted for Christmas and the imagination bubble drawn over Waverly’s head showed her dreaming of tiaras.

“Your memes will die down, Waverly.”

“Everything lasts forever on the internet,” Waverly huffed.

A spell of silence fell between them. The lights hummed. A cool draft crept through the opened garage door. At this hour, most cars were already home, parked in their driveways. The businesses across the street were closing, all except the ice-cream parlor and the pizza shop. Common sense told her she ought to leave.

“So, back to your business?” Waverly turned her attention to Dominic again. Dominic stepped close to Waverly. “I am here now.”