Dixie Belle Read online

  Cissy’s heart thudded and her knees wobbled as she stepped off the plane at JFK. Uncle Forest said he’d be waiting for her by baggage claim. She sure hoped he had a big trunk. She had the hardest time deciding what to bring, so she tossed into the suitcases everything she thought she might possibly need—or want.

  She hadn’t seen Uncle Forest in several years, but the instant she spotted the salt-and-pepper-haired man with the same piercing blue eyes she and her mother had, they both broke into smiles. He opened his arms wide and strode toward her, while she practically threw herself into his broad chest. “Whoa there, little girl.” He held her at arm’s length and gave her a long look. “Actually you’re not such a little girl anymore. Where are those cute little pigtails I remember?”

  “And where’s that Southern accent I remember?” She gave a jaunty head bob. “You’ve done become all New York-ified.”

  He tilted his head back and let out a hearty laugh. “That’s the best thing I’ve ever heard it called. You might not hear the accent, but the folks around here sure do. I don’t think a day goes by when someone doesn’t call me out on it. Here, let me take your carry-on, and we’ll go get your other bag.”

  “Bags. I have several.”

  Uncle Forest shook his head. “Sounds like you’re already New York-ified. Good thing Bootsie made me get all the product samples out of the trunk.”

  It took some serious maneuvering to get all her bags in his car, but a half hour later they were on their way into the city. Cissy remained speechless for most of the trip as she gawked at the tall buildings, until she couldn’t hold back anymore. “This is so incredible. It’s just like on TV.”

  He lifted an eyebrow and gave her a look she didn’t understand as they sat at a stoplight. “Yep. Maybe even more so.”

  “What?”

  He grinned and patted her hand. “Just wait. You’ll see. Oh, by the way, we’re stopping off at the office before I take you home. I want you to meet some of my employees, your coworkers.”

  Cissy’s heart continued to thud as they got closer to the heart of the garment district where Uncle Forest’s company was located. She’d always envisioned it being in a tall, shiny building with a doorman and a super-modern elevator with chic women breezing past her. Instead she found herself walking into a very old building with a musty smell, then stepping onto a rickety elevator with a door that took forever to close. She wasn’t about to let Uncle Forest see her disappointment, so she forced the smile she’d learned back when she was on the homecoming court at Hartselle High School.

  “You’re gonna love everyone. I have the best staff in the city.”

  The elevator shook as its door opened right smack dab in the middle of an office filled with cluttered desks, boxes everywhere, and people dressed in various fades of black. Uncle Forest stepped out and gestured for her to join him.

  “Where are we?” She took a tentative step toward the closest desk as everyone stopped what they were doing and stared.

  Uncle Forest clapped his hands. “Hey, everyone, this is Cissy, the niece I was telling you about. She’s gonna be one of our new sales reps.”

  A couple of the people grunted their greetings. Several of them gave her a cursory glance but went back to whatever they’d been doing. Only one person—a guy with longish sandy brown hair, skinny pants, a tight bomber jacket, and boat shoes—took the initiative to approach.

  “Hi, Cissy. I’m Dave, and your uncle has asked me to show you the ropes.” He wiped his hand on his black pants and extended it.

  Cissy wasn’t about to be rude, so she accepted the handshake but pulled back as quickly as possible. “So this is Zippers Plus, huh?”

  Beaming proudly, Uncle Forest opened his arms wide. “Yep. This is it. So how do you like it so far?”

  Cissy scanned the big warehouse-looking room with metal desks and open shelving, took a deep breath, and looked her uncle directly in the eye. “I absolutely love it.” If she said that often enough, she was certain she’d start to believe it.

  “I put together some things you might want to take a look at tonight.” Dave handed her a bulging three-ring binder. “It’s an overview and explanation of what we offer. I jotted down some notes on each page, but if you have any questions, I’ll be glad to answer them.” The look he gave Uncle Forest let her know he’d done it more for brownie points than for her, but that was okay.

  She took the binder. “Thank you. I’ll look at it tonight.”

  “Come on, Cissy.” Uncle Forest gestured toward the elevator. “We need to get all your stuff unpacked at the house. Bootsie is dying to see you.” He punched the elevator button with one hand and waved with the other. “Get back to work, everyone. Don’t forget I want you all here bright and early for a meeting tomorrow.”

  Dave grinned at Cissy. “See you then.”

  As soon as they had stepped onto the elevator, Uncle Forest started in on how difficult of a time he’d had when he first arrived in New York. “New York takes some getting used to.” He placed a hand on her shoulder. “It’s not easy for outsiders to get started here, but after a couple of years and a few bumpy seasons—well, that and a serious setback that took me forever to recover from—I’m doing as well as anyone else in sewing notions.”

  “That’s nice.” Cissy gulped. “So who will I be selling to and where will I go to sell?” She wanted to ask when she’d get her company car, but this didn’t seem like the right time.

  “There’s an empty desk in the corner . . . or there will be as soon as we clear some of the files off of it. That’ll be where you’ll make your phone calls.”

  “So I’ll be a phone salesperson?”

  “That’s right.” The elevator arrived back on the ground floor.

  She had a brief moment of regret, but right when Cissy took her first step outside into the bright sunshine, there was no doubt in her mind she’d made the right decision to come to New York, as she spotted the best-looking man she’d ever seen in her entire life. He was a good foot taller than her, dressed in a charcoal gray business suit, striped tie, and crisp white shirt. She’d seen plenty of men all dressed up on Sunday mornings, but not one of ’em looked as good as this one. His gaze zeroed in on hers, giving her the full impact of the darkness of his eyes, and she felt the earth beneath her shift. A slow smile spread across his lips, but something behind her caught his attention, and his expression instantly went sullen.

  Cissy glanced over her shoulder and saw her uncle giving the man the squinty eye. “Who is that man?” she whispered. “He is so good looking. Do you know him?”

  “Do I know him? Of course I do. And I suggest you stop ogling him and remember your family loyalties.”

  “Whatever are you talking about?”

  The man stepped up to them. “Hello, Forest. It’s good to see you again.” He glanced down at Cissy. “And who is this lovely lady? I don’t think I’ve ever seen her here before.”

  The binder slipped out of her hands and landed at her feet with a thud. She squealed. “Oops-a-daisy.”

  The guy bent over, picked up the binder, shoved some of the loose papers back in, and locked gazes with her as he handed it to her. “So people really do say that?”

  “What?” Her voice squeaked, so she cleared her throat. “People really do say what?”

  “Oops-a-daisy.” He grinned. “That is very . . . cute.”

  Uncle Forest let out a low growl that Cissy could barely hear. She doubted the man heard, but he couldn’t possibly miss her uncle’s disdain.

  “Stay away from my niece, Jenkins. She works for me.”

  “Your niece?” The man her uncle called Jenkins lifted an eyebrow as he glanced back and forth between Cissy and Uncle Forest.

  “You heard me.”

  The man slowly shook his head. “I mean no harm. All I was hoping for was an introduction.”

  Cissy couldn’t stand it anymore, so she shifted the binder to the crook of one arm and stuck out her other hand. “My name i
s Cissy Hillwood, and the reason you haven’t seen me before is I just got in from Hartselle, Alabama.”

  He smiled, took her hand, and squeezed it. “I’m Tom Jenkins, and I—”

  “Never mind, Jenkins.” Uncle Forest wedged himself between Cissy and Tom, gently shoving Cissy away. “Like I said, she works for me. Hands off.”

  “Nice meeting you, Cissy Hillwood.” Tom grinned as a playful expression flashed across his face before walking into the building next to Zippers Plus.

  “He’s cute,” Cissy said. “Very cute and polite.”

  “Maybe so, but he’s the competition, and from what I hear, a womanizer, and I don’t want you having anything to do with him.” He glared at her. “Now call your mama and let her know you’re here with me.”

  Uncle Forest drove in silence, allowing Cissy to daydream about that good-looking Tom Jenkins. She’d never seen her uncle so agitated. What was that all about? She glanced over at Uncle Forest, whose jaw remained firmly set, his narrowed eyes showing he hadn’t forgotten their encounter either. Good thing his mouth was closed, or she feared fire might come spewing out of it.

  The tension-filled air in the car prevented her from saying a word. Mama had always said Forest was serious about his business, and if anyone said or did anything he thought might hurt it, that was the end of them as far as he was concerned. Cissy wasn’t about to mess anything up for herself right now—not when she needed this job. Granted, it wasn’t what she’d expected in New York City—at least not as exciting or glamorous—but at least it gave her something to do while the folks back home cooled off.

  As they rode, Cissy watched the scenery change from concrete and massive old buildings to a more neighbor-hoodsy area. Based on the signs she saw along the way, she knew they were in Long Island. Trees lined both sides of the street, and children played in the yards—nothing at all like what she’d expected.

  “Are we still in New York City?”

  “Long Island’s a suburb,” he grunted.

  Uncle Forest pulled into a driveway, put the car in park, and turned off the ignition but didn’t make a move to get out of the car. Instead he remained sitting there staring straight ahead.

  Cissy had no idea what to do now. She held her breath and reached out to touch his shoulder. He flinched but turned to look at her.

  “I hope I didn’t make a mistake by bringing you here.” He contorted his mouth and narrowed his eyes.

  “You didn’t,” Cissy said. “I promise.”

  He held her gaze for a few very squirmy seconds. “Your mama was mighty worried about you, and I couldn’t turn my back on my baby sister. She would’ve done the same thing for me if the situation had been reversed.”

  Tom Jenkins’s image faded as the memory of Mama’s face replaced it. Cissy recalled her hand wringing and glistening eyes after they left the diner on the day of Spencer’s sentencing. It had to be rough having your only child go from being popular and sought after to having everyone hating on her.

  The weight of Uncle Forest’s hand on her shoulder brought her back to the moment. “Ready to go in and see Bootsie? She’s dyin’ to see you. I think she’s sad we didn’t have any daughters to dote on, so this is her big chance.” He grinned for the first time since seeing Tom Jenkins. “Humor her, okay?”

  Cissy could use a little doting on after all she’d been through since the trial. “Sounds good to me.”

  “You go on in, and I’ll get your bags. I’m sure Bootsie will show you to your room, but don’t expect to spend much time in there. She has all kinds of things she wants to talk to you about.”

  Cissy headed up the sidewalk, glancing around at the neighborhood as another flood of disappointment washed over her. There was something too familiar about it—too normal. It could have been any of the established neighborhoods in Hartselle. Most of the houses were either two-story or split-level, some with front porches, all with driveways that led to two-car garages. The yards were a glossy, new-spring green. Here and there bright red and yellow tulips dotted yards.

  She’d expected something different—more concrete than grass, bright lights, and the sound of horns honking and cabbies hollering. After all, she had moved to New York!

  When she got a few feet from the front porch, the door swung open, and out bounced her aunt—looking like she did five years ago, only a little grayer headed and slightly rounder. “Don’t you look pretty? Come here and give your old aunt a hug.”

  Forest had lost most of his Southern accent, but Bootsie sounded as if she’d never left Alabama. “Hey, Aunt Bootsie. Thank you so much for havin’ me. I don’t know what I would’ve done if—”

  “It’s our pleasure. Ever since the boys took off, this house has been way too quiet. I’m countin’ on you to liven it up again.”

  “Not too much livening up,” Uncle Forest said from behind her as he lugged her bags into the house. “I don’t know why you needed to bring so much stuff. I told your mama we run a casual office. All you need is—”

  “Is a black skirt, black pants, and some white or off-white shirts,” Cissy said. “But that’s just not me. I like a little color in my life.”

  “Don’t get too crazy with the way you dress, Cissy.”

  “I have to be—”

  Aunt Bootsie winked at her. “He’s not used to having girls around. Our boys could go a whole week with a pair of jeans and a couple T-shirts.” She smiled. “You do realize people here don’t dress like they do in Alabama, right?”

  Cissy nodded and crinkled her nose. “Looks to me like they don’t fully utilize the color wheel. I wonder if any of ’em know about gettin’ their colors done.”

  “Colors done?” The look on Aunt Bootie’s face let Cissy know the answer.

  “Maybe that’s the problem. Everyone my age in Hartselle knows what season they are. I’m a spring.” She looked Aunt Bootsie over. “I think you might be an autumn, with your hazel eyes and golden tones in your skin. That’s pretty special because most people are winters.”

  Aunt Bootsie looked even more perplexed now than before. “I have no idea what you’re talkin’ about, Cissy, but I sure do look forward to findin’ out.” She sighed. “I think I’ve missed a lot not havin’ daughters.”

  Cissy planted her fist on her hip. “You’ve got me now, and I’ll tell you everything I know about seasons and how to play up your colors.” She held her tongue and refrained from letting her aunt know that the dark shade of purple she was wearing made her look like she’d just come off a nasty bout with the flu. “I think you’d look gorgeous in coral.” She squinted and tilted her head. “Yeah, that would look real nice on you.”

  Aunt Bootsie tilted her head. “Coral, huh?”

  Cissy nodded. “Or teal.” She grinned. “Or maybe even a print with a full autumn palette.”

  “I don’t believe I have anything that . . . ” she grinned, “that exciting. It’ll sure be fun to show you around the city.”

  A loud snort came from the kitchen doorway as Uncle Forest entered. “Don’t tell me you ladies are planning to do a bunch of retail therapy.” He managed another smile. “Sounds like having you here is gonna cost me a whole lot more than your salary and benefits.”

  “I get benefits too?” Cissy’s last job had given her just enough hours to keep her in fashion but not enough to qualify for benefits.

  “Yep. All my employees get the best health insurance money can buy.” He puffed his chest. “And all I expect is loyalty.” His look said more than a month of talking. “Total loyalty.”

  Chapter 3

  TOM SAT AT his desk, stared at the computer screen for a moment, and pondered what to do next. One of the shipments he’d been waiting for was late, and the excuse of a long weekend wouldn’t fly for him. Years earlier if someone had told him he’d be this ticked off by a late shipment of sewing notions, he would have laughed.

  After Tom had tired of working on Wall Street, he’d started looking at businesses he could purchase. His accounta
nt recommended taking over the only failing company he’d invested in. Although Tom had never had any intention of working in the fashion industry, he saw potential in Sewing Notions Inc. The company purchased most of their notions from other countries, and they’d gotten into some trouble with customs. He decided that since he didn’t have anything else lined up, he could at least help get the company back on its feet before moving on to something else. Unfortunately, once he arrived, the former CEO disappeared, and Tom didn’t have a choice but to stick around a bit longer. He quickly realized that the notions business wasn’t as much about fashion as it was juggling manufacturers, retailers, and demanding designers.

  He took another glance at the e-mail before picking up his phone and punching in the number of the distributor. “This is unacceptable. There are plenty of other manufacturers out there that would bend over backward for my business. If you can’t deliver on promises . . . ”

  He slammed down the phone just as he saw Marianne, the administrative assistant he had inherited when he took over Sewing Notions Inc. Thankfully she had proved to have more integrity than the previous owner.

  Marianne stood at his door, head cocked, assessing him. The gray streaks in her hair gave away her age and the fact that she was too busy to have her hair dyed. She typically wore dark skirts and button-front tops that did nothing for her figure, but today she had on slacks. “Okay, who were you chewing out this time?” Marianne’s knowing look gave Tom no room for evading her direct question. His administrative assistant knew him all too well.

  He tightened his jaw and shook his head. “These people need to learn to get things right the first time. I can’t believe they think they can continue to be late with these big orders and stay in business.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “We have people waiting.”

  “Are we talking about Sew-Biz?” Marianne took a step closer, still holding his gaze.