Page 58 of Seein’ Red

“Okay then.” She smiles like she’s making nice, but I can see the wheels turning in her head. I hate that she’s the one Kenzie hired for this, but, to be fair, she is the only floral designer in town. Personally, I still would have gone elsewhere, but Kenzie’s commitment to supporting local businesses was strong. “Guess I’ll go get them.”

“Please do.”

“Too bad Nash left. Woulda been nice to have his help. He is darn good with those hands, after all.”

Kitty winks, spinning on her heel. Anger spreads through me, like water flooding a town, taking out buildings as it goes. I can feel the rage build. She did not just say that.

“Excuse you?”

“Oh,” Kitty replies, spinning back around. She has the nerve to look innocent, her Bambi-eyed impression in full swing. “I figured you knew from experience. Guess not.”

Something snaps within me. The actual crack inside my head pops like a dried twig being broken in half. There's no controlling the rage that takes over. Whatever she-hulk that is in me is unleashed, and I have no intention of taming her.

I lunge toward Kitty, hands outstretched. She sees me coming, batting away at me like I’m a mayfly and that’s all it’s going to take. It’s not.

She doesn’t realize who she is messing with. Doesn’t realize how many years of pent-up anger I have toward her. Especially where Nash is concerned. Nor does she realize the hormones racing through me, dictating my actions.

At least that’s what I’m going to blame. The hormones.

Grabbing ahold of her hair, I scream, yanking her head down. She grabs my arms, digging her nails into my skin, letting out her own wail. The pain sears through me, but it’s not enough to derail me. I’ve waited too long to do this.

“Whoa!” Milo roars.

Next thing I know, two strong arms are wrapped around my waist, yanking me away from Kitty. I don’t let go of her hair, wiggling in my brother’s arms, trying to break free.

“Wilhelmina!”

Milo and I stop dead, my fingers releasing immediately. There is only one reason—and one person—to evoke my great-grandmother’s name.

Miss Belle is pissed.

It’s not even my legal name—simply the inspiration—but it never failed growing up that when I was in deep, deep shit, that’s what I was called. Still am.

I suck in a breath, waiting for the dressing down I know is coming. That is probably more than a little deserved, to be honest. Miss Belle purses her lips, looking between Kitty and me, her disdain and disappointment dripping off her.

“Willa Mae,” she says. Yup, disappointment. Which is worse than anger. Flicking her eyes away from me, she looks at Kitty. “Elizabeth Cattaway. I expected better out of the both of you.”

“Sorry, Mama.”

“Miss Belle,” Kitty says, again with the innocent face. “I didn’t start⁠—”

“I highly doubt that, Elizabeth,” Miss Belle retorts. Her smooth southern drawl is calm and even, just like she is. Always has been, aways will be. “There is very little about your mannerisms that isn’t inflammatory in some way. It was part of what cost you the crown, you know. I would have thought that by now you would have rectified that, but alas, here we are.”

Kitty’s face falls, the harsh truth of my mother’s assessment hitting her hard. Mama might be an old-school southern belle, but she knows how to use her words to cut like a knife. And I love it.

“Might I suggest you comin’ back tomorrow to finish up with the centerpieces? Give us all some space from this moment.”

Kitty simply nods, her face crestfallen as she turns to go. I stand in silence, waiting for her to be gone so I can defend myself. Before I can do that, Miss Belle holds up a single finger, telling me to wait.

“Willa Mae…what am I going to do with you?” she sighs.

“Might not be too late to adopt her out,” Milo offers.

“Milo, why don’t you get us a drink?” It’s not so much a question but an order. Doing as he’s told, my brother disappears. Mama gestures to the closest table, so I sit.

“Oh, no beer for me!” I call out as a last-minute thought.

“And why is that?”