Instead of meeting up with Bailey and Lexi for a fitting the previous afternoon, Kenzie stayed in her apartment making love to Ramon all day long. All her life she’d prided herself on keeping her word and always being there for people. She woke up this morning kissing him goodbye so he could tend to the hotel as well as talk to some construction teams. If he planned on buying the old post office, it was going to need some work done to it.
When she strolled through the studio side of Grits and Glam Gowns, Kenzie expected to find Bailey highly disappointed in her. Kenzie was faced with four sets of inquiring eyes: Lexi’s, Maggie’s, Bailey’s and Andrew Mason’s. Andrew helped run and manage the dozens of toddlers who came to the studio for pageant lessons. At one point Lexi was the coach but with two small children and another on the way things were getting hectic.
Kenzie wrapped her arm around her niece’s neck and hugged her. She smelled like Love’s Baby Soft perfume and bubble gum. In a way, Kenzie wished Bailey would never grow up. Maybe this pageant wasn’t a good idea. But pageants at seventeen and eighteen were a rite of passage. Once Bailey won, Kenzie knew her baby niece would be all grown up. Next month she would be eighteen.
“I’m sorry for missing yesterday,” Kenzie said as she tugged on the frayed hole in the knee of Bailey’s jeans. Kenzie had realized that women over twenty-five didn’t need to wear holey jeans anymore. She smoothed her hands down the backside of her loose-fitting black skirt and pulled down the hem of her black Grits and Glam Gowns T-shirt with the words Tiara Squad bedazzled in pink and white gems on the front.
Bailey sat on the edge of the black stage where numerous tap dancing lessons had been held over the years. After the hug she sat so her elbows were propped on her knees and her chin propped in her hands. Her big brown eyes blinked and her hair was in two long pigtails; guilt couldn’t help but wash over Kenzie.
“I can’t believe you forgot about me,” Bailey said with a sniffle.
“I—I didn’t forget,” Kenzie exclaimed and glared at Maggie. “I told Aunt...” She stopped her accusation when everyone started laughing.
“Funny.” Kenzie half laughed, half sneered at her sister, who wore a pair of denim short-shorts, a flowy cream-colored blouse and four-inch heels. The wide-brimmed hat on top of her head was obnoxious, Kenzie thought and then corrected herself. She loved the hat and planned on taking it from her sister one of these days.
“Sorry.” Bailey held her hands up in surrender. “Auntie Maggie made me do it. I’m glad you’re getting busy.”
The comment threw Kenzie off for a moment. She scrunched up her eyes but Maggie garnered Kenzie’s attention. Unashamed for using their niece to goad Kenzie into guilt, Maggie doubled over on the stage. “Your face.”
“My finger,” Kenzie sneered, flipping her sister off. “Aren’t you supposed to be some sort of socialite with at least an ounce of poise?”
“But first I am your older sister,” Maggie said, sliding off the stage, “and tormenting you comes with the job.”
Kenzie thought about her conversation with Ramon the other morning in bed and wondered if his brothers had ever teased him the way her sisters had her.
“Right,” Kenzie said with a nod. “My much older sister.”
“Hey, we’re not talking about me here—we’re talking about you,” said Maggie. “What exactly were you doing yesterday?”
Kenzie cast a glance at Bailey. No way in the world she was going to discuss where or what or especially who she was doing in front of her niece. Almost eighteen or not.
“We should be discussing Bailey,” Lexi suggested, fanning out her hot-pink shift dress. The material did not hide Lexi’s full belly.
“Great idea,” Kenzie and Bailey chorused.
Since the studio session was paid for, the group made the best of the situation. The morning ticked by. Kenzie tried to focus on her niece’s dancing, but since the girl had every routine thrown at her down pat, rehearsals ended sooner. Chantal, Kenzie’s cousin, was supposed to be the dance instructor at Grits and Glam Studios, but had left to live overseas with her husband; Andrew knew most of the routines and taught Bailey what he knew. Kenzie grinned to herself, remembering how she taught Ramon the pageant wave this morning.
“Bailey,” Lexi began, “because you’re so talented, I really think you can do your own ensemble, just take over the whole show. I was thinking something like ‘Singing in the Rain.’”
“Except it hasn’t rained in Southwood in weeks,” Andrew reminded them. “How delightful are the judges going to find her number when they are sweating to death?”
“Are we doing it in the theater downtown?” Maggie asked. “That A/C has been spotty again.”
Kenzie turned to her sister. “And you know this how?”
“I scoped it out in case I wanted to throw a party there.”
“Seriously?” Kenzie scoffed.
“What? My friends have been in search of the small-town feel. No one can believe I’m from here.”
“Lexi,” Kenzie whined, “don’t bring your partying friends to Southwood.”
“My partying friends like to spend money, Kenzie.”
“Can the two of you stop fighting?” Andrew asked, fanning himself with his hand. “We need to concentrate on Bailey.”
“Yeah,” Bailey chimed in. “Although I’m not sure about the singing and dancing. What if I get winded?”
“You ran track last semester,” said Kenzie. “You will be fine.”
They went over the number a few times. Kenzie liked it but she wasn’t sold. Given the way Lexi sat, looking pained and uncomfortable, she didn’t think she wanted to let her mentor know how worried. An hour into rehearsal, Kenzie sat back in the couch, which was shaped like a pair of lips and set against the window. Break couldn’t have come at a better time. Bailey went to check her phone. When the clock in the tower downtown struck twelve, Andrew went off to get some food for them before rehearsal started back up again.
Their afternoon would be given to Bailey’s vocal coach, Waverly Crowne. Waverly, last year’s Miss Southwood, was a shoo-in for the Miss Georgia Pageant but had found out Christmas Eve she’d had a better title to achieve: that of Mrs. Dominic Crowne. They were already married and expecting their first child but they’d been married in a hurry, and the wedding was largely for Waverly’s mother’s sake. So far, Waverly hasn’t discovered her husband’s plans for a second, secret wedding. Waverly was still acting as a vocal coach for all the pageants for toddlers and little kids; fortunately this included Bailey. Thank God the Miss Southwood pageant was the Saturday after next.
A surge of electricity coursed through Kenzie at the idea of the month almost being over. She shifted on the cushions of the red couch. Already two events in and she was sleeping with Ramon. Again. How weak did that make her? She was a repeat offender or something. Last summer it hadn’t taken long for her to sleep with him, either. This time around things felt different. Ramon shared things with her. When he told her about his childhood, she felt his pain.
Lexi waddled toward the couch and Kenzie got up from her corner to help. Maggie leaped from her perch on the couch, as well, also to aid Lexi down to the cushion.
Lexi swatted her hands in the air. “I’ve got this.”
Stepping back, Kenzie bit the corner of her thumbnail. She wondered where Stephen was and didn’t recall seeing his car. Stephen owned Southwood’s finest real estate agency, located right next door to Grits and Glam Gowns. If Lexi went into labor now, she wasn’t sure what to do.
A loud “Oh my God” penetrated the glass wall looking out onto the street. Bailey stood, talking with someone on the other end of her phone via FaceTime.
“For a girl who didn’t want to move to Southwood because she didn’t have any friends here,” Kenzie noted, watching Bailey, “she certainly is a busybody.”
Maggie bowed at her hip. “She’s just like her Auntie Maggie.”
“God help her,” Kenzie groaned.
“Don’t worry too much,” said Lexi, waddling over to them. “She’s adjusting fine and making tons of friends.”
“Speaking of making friends,” Maggie began, knocking her knees against Kenzie’s, “we haven’t seen you since Felicia’s wedding reception.”
Heat bubbled under the collar of Kenzie’s shirt.
“She doesn’t have to answer,” Lexi teased. “Just look at the glow on her face.”
“My glow,” Kenzie repeated. “Lexi, I’m really worried about you. Are you sure you don’t want to go home for the day?”
“No, because if Stephen gets wind that I’m sweaty the man is going to put me on bed rest for the rest of this pregnancy. I have another six weeks.”
Kenzie doubted her friend was going to make it that long, but she wasn’t going to say anything.
“Let’s get back to you and Ramon,” Maggie persisted.
“Let’s not.”
“Stephen said you drove out to the hotel last week,” said Lexi, entertaining Maggie’s choice of topics.
“And I thought I saw the two of you having lunch in the park,” added Maggie.
Although it was none of their business, Kenzie explained how she ended up with Ramon’s jacket the night of Corie’s wedding. “And if you saw me having lunch in the park with Ramon, you must have just missed Erin. She wants to purchase the post office also.”
“What?” Lexi and Maggie chorused.
Kenzie shook her head. “I know, shocking, isn’t it? She wants to turn it into a clinic.”
“They have that sports center in Orlando,” commented Maggie. “Why?”
“Erin hates the tranquility of Southwood.” Kenzie snorted. “She couldn’t wait to get out of here because she hated how small and quiet things were.”
“Ugh,” Maggie groaned. “How will her proposal go over with the council?”
The city council planned on meeting this week. Kenzie already knew she wouldn’t recommend Erin’s proposal—not out of spite but because if she had her clients here, most of whom were professional athletes, it would disrupt the tranquility of Southwood.
As she told the ladies her decision, Maggie cocked her head to the side and moaned. “Now there’s a disturbance for you.”
Kenzie followed Maggie’s line of sight. Her heart thumped when she found Ramon standing behind her with two coffee cups in his hands. He wore a black tank top, ballers and earbuds in his ears. His hair hung loose around his neck. Behind him Bailey held her phone up...no doubt Kenzie expected to find the photo on social media later.
“Are you ogling him?” Kenzie asked. She waved Ramon in and pushed away from the couch to greet him.
“Jealous?” Maggie called out to her.
“Ladies,” Ramon boomed, walking through the studio’s side doors.
Stephen, dressed similarly to Ramon, came in through the kitchenette area between the studio and the dress shop side. “It’s time for a break.”
“We’re already taking a break, Stephen,” Lexi said. “See?” She fanned her hand down the length of her seated body.
Once reaching his wife, Stephen sat on the armrest and dipped his head for a kiss. The kiss lingered longer than anyone wanted to witness. Ramon cleared his throat.
“Uh, isn’t that what got your wife in the situation she’s in now?” Ramon asked.
“I can’t wait for you to fall in love,” Stephen retorted.
Another pang clenched Kenzie’s heart. The idea of Ramon falling in love with anyone else didn’t go over well with her. She cleared her throat to keep her feelings in check. Ramon remembered the coffee cups in his hand.
“Hey, I almost forgot, this is for you.” He handed her the beverage. Warmth touched her hands. “Cream and two sugars.”
Kenzie smiled but Maggie gaped. “And how exactly do you know how my sister likes her coffee?”
“Café con leche?” Ramon replied. “Who doesn’t like their coffee like that?”
The answer didn’t set well with Maggie. She narrowed her eyes on them. “I don’t believe you, but since you said it with an accent, I’m going to let it go.” She waltzed over to the record table and thumbed through the collection. Bailey came in and went over to Maggie.
“Did we interrupt anything?” Ramon asked Kenzie.
“Just taking a break for lunch,” said Kenzie. “Bailey’s been working hard all morning on her routine.”
“And you’ve been sitting down?” Stephen asked Lexi.
“Of course.”
Stephen gave his wife’s arm a loving stroke. “Good. Cinderella over here is trying to kill me. Her feet get puffy if she stands on her feet too long.”
Kenzie glanced up at Ramon, who hid his laugh behind his cup and gave her a wink. “You guys were just playing basketball, right?”
“Yes,” Stephen said with a nod, “I’m not sure if he had a chance to tell you but my little cousin here used to be well over on the husky side.”
All Ramon had alluded to was that his mother plied him with sweets as a kid. Looking at him now she found it hard to believe he’d had any weight issues. The man was pure muscle.
“We’re not talking about me,” Ramon reminded his cousin.
“Hey, Kenzie,” Maggie called out, “Lexi has the song from your routine when you ran for Miss Southwood.”
Kenzie cut her eyes at Lexi, who shrugged innocently. “It’s a classic song.”
“What song is it?” Stephen and Ramon asked together.
Kenzie continued to stare at Lexi, willing her not to say a word.
“Mambo,” Maggie replied. “Or at least it was the mambo scene from West Side Story.”
Beside her, Kenzie felt Ramon’s blaze of heat. “Seriously? Do you have any video? Please say there’s video.”
“No.” Kenzie shook her head.
“Do you remember your steps, Auntie?” Bailey asked, using her pleading, sad, puppy-dog eyes. “I need all the inspiration I can get.”
Maggie headed toward the record player. “You know it’s one of those songs with a beat Kenzie can’t resist.”
“I can resist,” said Kenzie, willing her body to stay still. “Besides, my dance partner isn’t here.”
Bailey’s eyes lit up. “Who was your dance partner?”
“Hank DuVernay,” Kenzie replied over the beginning of the song, “and there’s no way...”
Andrew, carrying two boxes of pizza, set their lunch on the stage. “Anything my ex can do, I can do better.” He swiveled his satin scarf from around his neck to the rhythm of the bongo-driven beat of the song. Ramon took the cup of coffee from Kenzie’s hand. Lexi, Bailey and Maggie egged Kenzie on with catcalls and whistles.
Something took over Kenzie, just as the spirit of Rita Moreno had taken her over when she competed for Miss Southwood. By the time the song finished, people waiting for the afternoon music lesson were gathered around the doors of the studios and folks pressed their faces to the window for the show. Breathless, Kenzie beamed and bowed to Andrew for dancing with her. He was better than Hank. As the people gathered on the studio floor, Kenzie glanced around to find Ramon. Just as Maria and Tony had found each other on the dance floor, he made his way to her. Chest heaving, Kenzie looked away, not sure if her interpretation of the Puerto Rican dance queen was accurate or not. Ramon approached with confidence; he took Kenzie by the arms and spun her around, dipping her backward.
“You’re wearing this and doing that exact same dance tonight.”
* * *
With her hair pulled back into a French twist and armed with her seersucker jacket, Kenzie, well-rehearsed in the speech she planned on giving in a few minutes, confidently pushed away from her desk. She wore a pair of seersucker Capri pants and black high-heeled sandals and felt like a million bucks. Then the back of her chair hit the wall, putting her ego in check. The fancy degree she earned didn’t give her a corner office and six-figure salary and so far the only historical fact Kenzie discovered going through the old yearbooks was that Southwood High had a winning football team. The nerves kicked in.
Kenzie paused for a moment and sighed to push her fears away. She hated speaking in front of people. Even at beauty pageants, Kenzie always worried about ranking in the top three when the deep questions were asked. To stutter under the bright headlights, answer incorrectly, or misunderstand the question entirely could be detrimental for a beauty queen’s career. Swallowing her fears, she took a deep breath.
In ten minutes Kenzie was scheduled to give her point of view and concerns for the three buildings up for sale—one of them being the one Ramon was interested in. Kenzie would be fair if given the chance to speak about which business proposal best suited Southwood history. Erin, still interested in the post office building as well, wanted to build a clinic. While Kenzie thought a clinic would be perfect, the fact that there was a veterinarian’s office right around the corner from the building seemed weird to her. Besides, Kenzie doubted Erin wanted to settle down in Southwood. She was just doing this to get under Kenzie’s skin.
“I hope I’m not interrupting,” said a familiar feminine voice at the door.
Kenzie glanced up and felt her cheeks move as she smiled at the sight of her mother. “Mom!”
Paula Hairston-Swayne always managed to look as if she’d stepped off the pages of a fashion magazine. Her kelly green top matched her eyes. Her red hair defied the humidity and hung straight down her back and over her shoulder, ending in a perfect single curl. “Good. I thought you weren’t speaking to me for a while there.”
Kenzie moved around her desk, inwardly cursing at the future bruise that would form where her hip hit its sharp corner. Her hip then brushed against the boxes Ramon had sent over, the ones they’d found in the basement a few weeks ago. She wondered if he’d made any leeway with the washed-out ballots they’d found. A rigged election? A teacher’s popular test passed down from year to year? Kenzie made a mental note to come back upstairs after the meeting to bring them back to the apartment for the rest of her time off. She’d promised Margaret she’d stay away.
“Why wouldn’t I speak to you?”
“You’ve been so busy with this new man,” Paula said. “I’ve seen the two of you around town looking all cozy. You and your beau have been so into each other, whether it was at Lexi’s studio or the park for lunch. I even called your cell and your house line, and both went to voice mail.”
Mother and daughter united in a hug. A twinge of guilt struck Kenzie. How could she begin to explain that what had started off as a front was turning into something more? Ending the hug, Paula placed her hand at Kenzie’s temple, by her tucked-back hair. “No product, dear?”
“It’s June, Mom,” Kenzie said drily and prayed her mom dropped this smothering conversation.
Paula pointed to her perfectly coiffed hair. Besides when she was poolside, Kenzie never saw her mother’s red hair out of place.
“Tell me you’re going to recommend your cousin’s clinic.”
“Way to get right to the point, Mommy,” Kenzie said, folding her arms under her breasts. Why did she feel like a middle-schooler about to be lectured by the principal?
“Sorry, but I know you’re going to speak to the council in a few minutes and I just wanted to plead with you.”
Kenzie sighed. “Why is it so important for you to have Erin here?”
Jealousy reared its ugly head. Erin was already Auntie Bren’s favorite. Kenzie got that Erin was her mother’s niece but did Paula always have to put her needs above her daughter’s?
“I think it would do Erin some good if she moved back here for a while.”
“Starting a clinic is going to take more than a while,” Kenzie reminded her mother. “It’s a big commitment and I’ve already told her starting it downtown is not historically sound. Dr. Fredd’s office opened in 1870 just outside of downtown because people paid him in livestock.”
“Fast-forward a hundred and fifty years later, Kenzie,” her mother said while pinching the bridge of her nose, “and people now use money for currency.” Paula paused, clamping her red-stained lips together. “What do you have against your cousin?”
“Where do I begin?”
“Kenzie, Erin’s sisters are both married now.”
While Paula ticked off the reasons why Kenzie needed to lighten up on her cousin, Kenzie half listened. Kenzie didn’t bother bringing up the fact she and Erin were the same age. Why did Erin get empathy?
“And with the business taking off,” Paula continued, “she’s really just going through the motions at work.”
“When do the two of you even talk?”
“We talk,” said Paula, “Just as you and your Aunt Jody do.”
Avoiding her mother’s glare, Kenzie sighed and walked toward the window, her mother hot on her heels. She had spoken with Aunt Jody just this morning to confirm she was attending the sesquicentennial.
“I know you two still talk, even though after thirty years, she still won’t speak to me because she believes I stole the crown out from under her.”
“C’mon. Mom, you know the title meant a lot more to Aunt Jody than it did to you.”
Paula folded her arms across her chest. The bow of the green silk blouse she wore crumpled. “I cannot have this conversation with you, Mackenzie.”
“Because I’m a Swayne?” Kenzie cocked her head to the side. “I’m still half Hairston.”
Paula snorted. “Your biggest claim to fame is being the last Swayne to win the title.”
Actually her biggest claim to fame was earning her PhD, but Kenzie didn’t bother clarifying. “Well, Mother,” Kenzie said in clipped tones, “I need to hurry and go meet with the committee so I can get home and polish my tiara.”
“Be serious.”
“I am.” The five-o’clock bell went off in the tower. “Look, I don’t have time to sit here and discuss my issues with Erin, but you should know me well enough to know that I wouldn’t hold my history with her against her in business.” When her mother still didn’t smile or look relieved, Kenzie huffed. “Besides, I am not the sole person deciding which business will open. I am just giving my professional opinion about the makeup and history of Southwood.”
Her lips slightly moving in a frown, Paula glanced over her daughter. “I suppose.”
“Thank you, Mother.”
“Can we talk about your hair?”
“It’s the middle of June,” Kenzie said, stepping toward the stairwell. She needed to leave. “There is absolutely no reason for me to put anything in my hair right now.”
“There’s always a reason, dear,” Paula called out to her daughter as the heavy doors closed and echoed down the stairs.
* * *
The Economic Development Council was made up of members of the city council and other local representatives, such as the mayor and his friends. Kenzie made an inner eye roll at having to face a few of these gentlemen. As town historian, Kenzie’s opinion mattered if Southwood wanted to maintain its historic integrity. The mayor and his pals wanted to generate revenue, which she understood but in order to remain true to Southwood being a small town and priding itself on that, they did not need to bring in franchises. Her purpose today was to prove the town could still survive on local business. People drove from all over for the experience.
“The committee will now recognize Mackenzie Swayne, Southwood historian. Dr. Swayne, do you have anything to add concerning the list of buildings up for restoration?”
Pushing away from the mahogany rolling chair, Kenzie approached the wooden podium. The seersucker suit clung to her elbows, restricting movement as she shuffled her papers.
“Thank you, Miss Leena,” said Kenzie, trying not to smile at her friend. When not working on the volunteer committee, Miss Leena manned the administrative desk at Southwood High School and often she was the one making the call for substitute teachers. Kenzie always accepted.
“I’d like the records to reflect the buildings up for sale.”
Alexander leaned forward and cleared his throat into the silver microphone in front of him. “Let the records show that this will be Miss Swayne’s recommendation.”
“Dr. Swayne,” Miss Leena corrected.
“I stand corrected,” Alexander said with a head nod. “We’re just trying to make the committee aware that what Dr. Swayne recommends is simply that, a recommendation. I have been hired to ensure Southwood’s growth by bringing in new businesses, whether or not the buildings housing them are old.”
“Historic.” Kenzie savored being able to correct Alexander. “The buildings are historic. And our charming history is what brings visitors to our town. If we want to keep our revenue flowing, we need to preserve not just our physical buildings but also monitor what we put in these buildings.” Kenzie took a sip of water from the clear glass on the podium. Out of the corner of her eye she spied Ramon in a light blue oxford, one leg crossed over his other and his hair secured back. She cleared her throat and tried to stay focused.
“Of course, with technology today,” she continued, “we can’t honestly expect to bring old jobs back like the film store, but we can pay homage to the business with a museum shop. We were already given a lot of historic donations last Christmas when we had our parade. We have clothes and paintings and old pictures to put in a museum if one were built.”
“There are several buildings,” said another councilman. “Which of those do you suggest the museum be placed?”
“I think the old post office would be perfect. There are several floors to fill. Plus it is smack downtown. I understand Mr. Reyes is interested in the building and we’ve discussed at length the need for such a facility for the community.” Kenzie’s heart raced with excitement. The council, Alexander not included, all nodded their heads with approval. Out the corner of her eye Kenzie saw Erin shake her head. Even though her mother wasn’t in the room, Kenzie knew her mother was here in spirit...just with Erin. The kelly green dress Erin wore screamed of Paula’s influence. She pushed their disapproving frowns out of her mind.
“With all due respect to the people wanting to bring in a commercial business, we don’t need a private clinic. Southwood, Black Wolf Creek, Peachville and Samaritan have been thriving with the Four Points General. We don’t need private practices. Four Points General has united the four cities since the First World War, and as for a sports bar, we have Shenanigans.”
“Shenanigans is a place children can visit,” interrupted Mayor Anson.
Kenzie took a deep breath and willed herself not to roll her eyes. She hated the mayor. Not because he’d hired his best friend, Alexander, but because the man was an obsessive creep. Last year he became obsessed with her fellow beauty queen, Waverly Crowne. His obsession had almost cost Waverly into losing her chance to run for Miss Georgia and he thought he’d gotten away with it. Well, not if Kenzie had anything to do with it. This fall she planned on backing his opponent, whomever that might be.
“There are other sports bars around town, Mayor,” Kenzie said, reminding the committee. “They’re just not downtown in the founding square. Mr. Mayor, I assure you I am not here to exact some form of moral judgment. I simply was asked my opinion as a historian what was needed and if any of these proposals for the structures work with what’s in the history books.”
“And you’re not a fan of a sports bar, which will bring in revenue?” Anson asked.
I’m not a fan of you, she thought. “As I’ve stated, this is my opinion.”
“And there’s a bid for a clinic downtown,” said another councilman. The man was elderly and placed his thick black-rimmed glasses on his face. “Or is it a rehab?”
Erin tiptoed to the microphone on her side of the room. “A rehab center, Mr. Silas.”
“And you are?”
“Erin,” Erin replied with her hands clasped behind her back. “Erin Hairston.”
“And you, Miss Historian, do you think a clinic fits the historic entity of Southwood?”
Those on the panel, aware of Erin and Kenzie’s relations, leaned forward. Erin stood by her podium and faced Kenzie with her hand on her hip. Kenzie shrugged and leaned close to the microphone.
“No, I don’t.”
The shocked gasps almost deafened Kenzie. She gave her last recommendation and sat back down in her seat. Blood pounded between her ears. For the rest of the meeting she couldn’t do anything but stare straight ahead, well aware of the daggers Erin shot her. When the dismissal gavel fell, Kenzie leaped from her seat in order to catch up with Erin, who stormed out as soon as possible.
Kenzie caught up with her cousin just outside the doors of the meeting room. Late evening sun spilled into the foyer. “Erin, I wanted to talk to you for a moment.” Kenzie stepped in her cousin’s way before she left the building. Like Kenzie’s, Erin’s complexion didn’t help her hide her emotions.
Stone-faced, Erin turned to glare at her cousin. “What?”
“I don’t want you to walk away mad and think I was being mean.”
Erin dramatically leaned backward. “You?” she gestured toward Kenzie. “You be mean? Never.”
The committee members leaving watched the interaction. Kenzie leaned in close. “Can we go somewhere and talk?”
“Oh, so you don’t get embarrassed in front of your coworkers like you just did to me in front of the whole town?”
“Erin, I tried to tell you before I didn’t think a clinic downtown was a good idea,” Kenzie explained. “I also spoke with Stephen Reyes, who has several places he thought would be perfect, especially a little bit on the outskirts of town, just like Dr. Fredd’s.”
Erin rolled her eyes. “You just love leaving me out of things.”
Ramon stepped out of the double doors, shaking hands with the mayor. His eyes narrowed on Kenzie, then his brows rose with curiosity.
“I’m not leaving you out of anything, Erin. I was asked my opinion about the history of Southwood and I gave it.”
Erin smirked and glanced over her shoulder. “And you think a non-profit was a part of the history of Southwood? Let’s be honest. We both know why you’re doing it. You’re so hard up for a man you’ll sell your own family out.”
Kenzie gasped. “Talk about selling family out—do you not recall a time when you openly campaigned against me?”
“For Miss Southwood?” Erin leaned backward, swaying her hips in dramatic fashion, clearly a habit she learned from Paula. “I was trying to save you.”
“Save me?” Kenzie realized her voice had gone up an octave when the people in the hall stopped walking. Ramon came to her side, tugging her elbow.
“Let’s get out of here, Kenzie.”
“In a minute.” Kenzie pulled her arm away. “Save me how, Erin?”
Erin placed her hands on her hips. “You were always more than a beauty queen, Kenzie. I always worried you winning would change you, but I guess deep down inside you are a vapid airhead who is so afraid to attend a public event without a date you had to go and hire someone.”
“I—”
Erin silenced her with a wave of her hand. “Save it. He didn’t want you a year ago. Clearly your embarrassed, desperate ass still hasn’t learned your lesson. He’s only using you to get your approval for the building. The building you could have saved for your flesh and blood.”