Georgia on Her Mind(77)

“See you soon.” His energy is zapped. Here I am wasting it on my problems.

Fallon hands me a coffee as we walk down the corridor together. “Pete tells me you’re looking for a job.” His gray eyes spark when he speaks and I can tell he is a man who sees as well as looks.

“Well, sir, I have a job.”

“Pete mentioned a possibility in Chicago.”

Without a thought or hesitation, I blurt out, “Not Chicago. Beauty. I’m going home to Beauty, Georgia.”

We stop at the elevator and I press the down arrow, feeling perfect. Absolutely perfect.

“All the best to you, Macy.”

I don’t care if he is Fallon Tidwell, communications tycoon. I celebrate my decision and throw my arms around him. “All the best to you, too.”

“Yes,” he croaks, backing away, straightening his collar.

I’m going home. Riding the elevator down, my heart soars. I’m returning to Beauty.

I call Dad as soon as I get home. “Where will I live?”

I glance at the clock on the stove. Lucy and Jack should be by soon.

He clears his throat. “Our house will be empty, of course. But you know Piper and Angus are selling off part of their Purdy homestead.”

“Dylan told me.” I plop into one of the kitchen-table chairs and draw my knees up to my chin.

“Who do you think put him up to it?” A sneaky snicker threads the tone of his voice.

“I am not surprised.”

“A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do to wage war against a fancy New York software company offering the world to his daughter on a Chicago-style platter.”

“Any cheap, low-down trick will do, eh, Dad?” I see Lucy and Jack pass by the window with paper bags of Chinese food.

“I’ll take the cheap shot if that’s all I got.”

“You know how much I’ve always loved Piper and Angus’s place.” I get out silverware, napkins and plates.

“So what are you telling me?” Dad asks.

I hear the front door open and Lucy’s familiar hello. I take a deep breath. “I’m returning to Beauty, Dad. I’ll take over the business.”

There’s a long pause from Dad’s end. Lucy is in the living room, flipping on lights.

Finally Dad chokes out, “Are you sure?” The emotion in his voice runs down the wire and splashes over me. My eyes well up.

“Yes, very.”





Chapter Thirty-Three




August 4

On the veranda swing, I wait for Dylan. He’s picking me up on one of his custom bikes—which he’s trying to sell to me, by the way. He’s crazy. Gorgeous and crazy. My new best friend.

We’re meeting Lucy and Jack at the corner of Jasmine and Lily Avenue and heading over to the lake for a picnic. Jack just bought a Braun bike.

Oh, before I forget. The class reunion was a blast. I’m proud to say I attended as a hometown girl and the new proprietor of Moore Gourmet Sauces. I emceed with great poise and hilarity, even if I say so myself.

I couldn’t believe how many of my old friends patted me on the back and congratulated me about moving back to Beauty. There was no humiliation. No teasing. No eating crow.

“We always thought you’d be the Moore of Moore Sauces one day.”

Did everyone know but me?

Kathy Bailey and I spent an hour talking, catching up, being jealous over each other’s lives and promising to keep in touch. Resolve: good friends are worth the trouble.

Dad bought Cole a Braun bike the same time Jack bought his. Part of Cole’s inheritance, Dad claims, but I’m finding out that my former-hippie-turned-Jesus-freak-turned-Southern-bourgeois-capitalist-turned-missionary father is incredibly generous.

For me, he put a down payment on the Purdy mansion. Absolutely blew me away. He’s all but giving me the business, then goes and buys my dream home.

“Signing bonus,” he said when he handed me the keys.

I cried. Yep, cried in front of the boss. But at Moore Gourmet Sauces crying executives are not frowned upon. I stood there in my new pleated skirt and curled my toes against the soles of my flip-flops and cried a nice, businesswoman cry.

Be true to you, I always say.

Lucy hooked me up with one of the newspaper’s advertising real estate agents, who advised me to rent my condo. It made moving so much easier, and the rent covers my mortgage and then some.

Piper and Angus sold my half of their home for a song. Dad tried to give them several thousand more, but Angus refused.

“The money makes Piper crazy,” he told Dad, chewing his chaw, then spitting in the dirt.

I’ll spend the next four months remodeling, and that expense is entirely on me. Until then, I’m unpacked and living in my old room.

Dad and Mom leave for England in a few weeks and are as giddy as a couple of teenagers. They inspire and challenge me with their yielded, unselfish hearts.

But Dad’s concentration level is worse than a child’s. I have to snap my fingers under his nose to get his attention. “Tell me how to do this!”

I’m slightly panicked. The day they leave, I debut on The Food Connection. Butterflies launch themselves across my middle at the very thought.

Six months ago, if someone had told me I’d return to Beauty as the new owner of Moore Gourmet Sauces, I would have laughed and called the paddy wagon. Absurd. Unthinkable.