The Bachelor and the Beauty Queen

Lexi did not mistake Stephen’s eyes lowering to her lips. She bit the corner of her bottom lip. The temperature in the room rose a degree or two. Why did she decide to wear the pink sweatpants and matching jacket? Maybe something had happened to the air conditioner? With the orchids in her arms, Lexi turned her attention back to the stage. “After lunch, we’ll work on hair and makeup.

“Are y’all hungry?” Lexi asked the two Reyes brothers as she strolled past Stephen.

Kimber, who’d kept her eyes glued to her iPad during the entire rehearsal, glanced up and offered a half shrug of her shoulder. Lexi gave the girl a coy smile, then spoke to Nate, who stood up to close the gap between them. “We have some finger sandwiches if you’re starving. Do you like cucumber or pimento cheese sandwiches?”

“Got some without the pimento?” asked Andrew, whizzing by with Philly in his arms. His heels clicked on the marble flooring of the kitchen. The bottles of jams, hot sauces and other condiments jingled as he yanked the refrigerator door open.

Rolling her eyes, Lexi shook her head. “Then you want a cheese sandwich, Andrew.” She turned her attention back to Nate and Kimber. “I’m sorry. Someone must have forgotten to take out the platter. You know what? I have a better idea. I have some shrimp and grits upstairs ready to be eaten. Kimber, would you mind coming with me to help?”

Without making eye contact, Kimber nodded her dark head. Such great bone structure. If only s

he showed the slightest interest in pageantry. Lexi headed toward the back of the store to the spiral steps leading upstairs, where she kept more dresses. Expanding the store would have allowed her to separate the inventory. Now she needed to rethink things.

“You know the way?” Lexi asked, stopping to tug down the plastic covering on a sold dress.

“Yes ma’am.” Kimber quietly sighed. She took two steps at a time.

The two-story building had once belonged to one of Southwood’s first dressmakers. Lexi didn’t break from tradition too much, hiring contractors to gut the majority of the downstairs area into a showroom floor with changing rooms and an office. The spiral steps led to an upstairs kitchenette and into the two-bedroom apartment. Lexi followed Kimber up to the second floor. Racks of more dresses, all wrapped in plastic, were lined up against the far wall, waiting to be picked up. A black-speckled marble bar with two high-back wooden bar stools separated the kitchen and dining area from the living room. Behind the bar on the black stove, a red pot simmered with what Lexi had planned on having for dinner with her assistants.

“I just need to add the shrimp,” Lexi told Kimber. “Do you cook?”

“No, ma’am,” Kimber answered, her head low and eyes on the floor, probably wishing the shaggy red throw carpet would swallow her alive.

Lexi shook her head and her smile softened with the understanding of regretting doing something stupid. Kimber sat with her elbows on the countertop and watched Lexi measure the amount of water she needed to feed everyone downstairs and set the pot to boil. “Do me a favor. Turn on the fan. It’s the switch by the bathroom door.”

Without needing any direction, Kimber headed over to the white wall with the panel and flipped the switch. Lexi reached into the cabinet and took down her bag of grits. She smiled over her shoulder at Kimber. “Don’t tell my mama you saw me using quick grits. She’ll disown me.”

Kimber smiled weakly.

“When cooking shrimp, I don’t want to risk getting any smell on those dresses.” Lexi inclined her head toward the back wall. “The dresses up here are very important to me,” said Lexi. She watched Kimber slide onto one of the bar stools, head still hung down.

Kimber burst into tears. “I’m sorry I took the dress, Miss Lexi!” When she glanced up, her tear-filled eyes pleaded with Lexi.

“Oh, honey, how did you even get it?”

“During Philly’s last workshop,” Kimber started to explain. “I’m sorry. It was wrong of me to take advantage of you, Miss Lexi. You allowed me to use your private bathroom when I was on the phone, crying, with my boyfriend, and well, I got nosy and went through your racks of dresses. There were so many I didn’t think you’d even notice.”

I didn’t, Lexi thought to herself.

“I was so desperate to make sure my boyfriend noticed me.”

Yet again, Lexi’s mother’s words rang in her ears, the ever-nagging I told you so when it came to Lexi’s decision to create and wear dresses. As she came around the kitchen bar, Lexi remembered wanting to grow up and impress a boy—it didn’t make the situation right, but she understood. She wrapped her arm around the girl and gave her a hug. Hugging her saddened Lexi. With no prospects for a romantic partner, the only love and advice she’d give out would be to her niece, Jolene, and other young girls like Kimber.

“You do realize you’re too young for something like this?” Lexi stroked her shoulders. “I was too young for it, and you don’t want to make the wrong impression.”

“Please don’t tell my uncles I stole your dress!” Kimber blurted out in panic.

“I’ve already taken the heat, sweetie,” said Lexi, thinking about how much it had cost her. “No point in two of us being in trouble.”

On Friday night, while she had been in his arms dancing, Stephen claimed he planned on keeping an eye on things. She was already going to be punished. Why ruin Kimber’s summer? Besides, what did Stephen plan on doing with a bakery? Did he bake? She pressed her lips together and thought of her mental score card. He might earn a few points if he did.

“For the record, I was older than sixteen when I wore the dress, over twenty-one. Whoever you were trying to impress can’t be worth the trouble,” Lexi continued. “He’s not the kind of boy you want to be around.”

“No, ma’am.” Kimber shook her curly head. “Uh, Marvin’s not like one of those boys.”

Odd that she said Marvin. The relationship between the two struck Lexi as simply friendship. “Marvin, or whomever you’re really trying to impress. Remember, it is always easy to be the bad girl,” she told Kimber with a wagging finger. “The average teenager strives for the bad-girl routine, but you strike me as above average.”

Hesitantly Kimber nodded her head. “Yes, ma’am.”