Page 50 of Heaven Help Me

The crowd erupts again. I see her turn that glare on me, but she moves, coming toward the stage. She carefully makes her way up the three stairs and then she’s next to me, muttering under her breath about not drawing attention.

And normally, I’d agree.

But this is my moment in the spotlight, and I don’t want to be here without Valentina.

“Thank you, Heaven, for being my home. Thank you for this honor of being able to serve you and outfit you with the finest suits this side of the Mississippi!” I hold up the trophy. “This is for you, this is for my lovely Landry to whom my success is due, and this is for Heaven, the best little town in the South!”

The crowd erupts and I go with the energy, turning away from the microphone and pulling Valentina into my arms. I tip her over my arm in one forceful movement, getting her where I want her before she finds her knife under her skirt and jabs me with it. My lips claim hers and something lights up in my chest when she kisses me back. The wolf whistles remind me this is a very public moment, so I quickly pull her back up to standing and nod my thanks to the crowd. Valentina’s cheeks are flushed and I’m pretty sure it’s from me, not the unrelenting summer heat. The little smile creeping onto her lips is definitely from me.

I take her hand in mine, thread our fingers together, and get off the stage. The crowd disperses and plenty of people stop to congratulate me. I know Valentina needs to get back to work, so I go with her after changing into shorts and a polo, determined to help her so she’s not overwhelmed. I didn’t like seeing her dissolve into a panic attack yesterday.

Everyone has flooded the boutiques after the fashion show. I have to grit my teeth to keep from running into mine to help out. I hired extra staff just for this weekend. I have to trust that Lottie has things under control. Guess Valentina’s not the only one with trust issues.

There’s a scuttle over by the tea truck. Valentina and I both notice it at the same time and move as one in that direction. A woman is flailing her arms and trading words with Willard Graham, the man working the truck.

“What is this crap? Like suckin’ on a lemon. Is this how your mama raised ya?”

“What’s going on?” Valentina lets go of my hand to charge into the fray.

The woman turns to her, her face in a grimace as she holds a cup of tea in the air. “This iced tea is unsweetened!”

There’s a gasp from every citizen in the vicinity. All heads turn in our direction. Valentina’s face goes pale. She looks up at Willard in the truck, who just shrugs. She grabs the tea out of the woman’s hands and mumbles something about making it right. We both run around to the side of the truck to climb aboard. Willard whispers that he just used the tea that was ordered like he always does.

Valentina checks her clipboard, flipping through pages frantically. “I ordered it two weeks ago. Same as last year’s order.” She bites her lip. “I think.”

I grab the clipboard out of her hands and look at the order form. I wince when I see it. “You ordered unsweetened,” I say quietly and hopefully without blame.

Valentina groans.

Willard looks stricken. “What are we gonna do?”

I hand Valentina the clipboard, staying calm. “I know someone who will loan us sugar. Stay here. For waiting so patiently, say you’ll give the first fifteen iced-tea orders for free. I’ll be right back.”

I race out of the truck before Valentina or Willard can comment. Pulling out my phone, I dial Mama B, the owner of Mama’s, the restaurant on the Square with old-fashioned Southern cuisine. She’ll be closed today, but she’ll have sugar in the storage room. She answers, the noise in the background loud. Good. She must be here at the Square.

“Mama B. I need a favor.”

“I got you, Deuce.”

She not only meets me outside Mama’s, but she gives me a ten-pound bag of sugar with promises of more if I need it. She also slips me a lemon meringue pie I intend to devour tonight after we get home.

“Bless you, Mama B.”

Her cheeks go redder than usual. “Oh, you blessed me, alright. By walking in that fashion show!” She cackles and I kiss her quickly on the cheek.

I race back to the iced-tea truck, weighed down by different forms of sugar. Willard sees the sack of sugar and jumps into action, dumping its entire contents into the vat of tea. He stirs while Valentina dabs at the corner of her eyes.

“Thank you,” she whispers as I walk past, busy getting the plastic cups ready with ice.

I kiss her on the cheek and start handing the cups to Willard to be filled with lip-puckering sweet tea. “I told you I got you, V.”

Then I’m leaning out the window, laughing and charming my way through the line as I hand out free iced teas. “Can you believe I ordered the wrong tea? I might just need reading glasses after all.”

I take the fall for the ordering snafu. After all, Valentina should never have been handed the huge responsibility of running this whole event. She’s new here and only volunteered as a way to one-up me back when we still engaged in such juvenile teasing.

When things are back on track and Willard assures me he’ll be fine now, Valentina and I exit the truck. I spin in her direction, seeing the way the stress of this event has left dark smudges under her eyes.

“Can we agree not to one-up each other anymore?”