A Tiara Under the Tree Read online

  “You’re flirting with me when your girlfriend is in there.” Waverly nodded toward the bakery.

  “Who, Tiffani?” Dominic’s deep voice rose an octave. “Why would you...? Never mind. There’s been a misunderstanding.”

  “Obviously,” said Waverly, still pushing the cupcake toward his massive, broad chest.

  “Tiffani is a family friend.”

  Did Tiffani realize they were just friends? Still new to Southwood, Waverly didn’t know what families were related or who everyone’s best friend was. Waverly knew a handful of people—Lexi and her family and then, of course, Jolene, Lexi’s cousin and Waverly’s former roommate at Cypress Boarding School for Girls. What she did know was Tiffani’s kindness to her. Clearly the girl had a crush...understandably.

  “Friends.” Waverly mimicked his word.

  “Yes,” Dominic confirmed. He pressed the cupcake back toward Waverly. Their hands brushed and a spark was set off between them. Waverly took a step backward. He took a step toward her. “Do us both a favor—give me a call.”

  Waverly stood still, her heart beating rapidly against her rib cage until Dominic Crowne crossed the street and disappeared into the crowd of pedestrians. She pondered whether to toss the business card and the cupcake into the trash. The last thing she needed right now was a relationship. No, she said to herself, the best thing for her was to focus on a new set of goals and get back on track to achieving her ultimate dream, Miss USA, starting with obtaining the Miss Georgia title. After Waverly’s heartbeat returned to a normal state, she made a drastic decision...she decided to keep the cupcake.

  * * *

  “You’re back sooner than I expected.” Alisha Crowne glanced up from her stack of magazines—not quite the welcome reception he expected from his little sister.

  Dominic turned the open sign over to close the garage, disappointed there wasn’t a line of cars in the driveway, but there were two in the lift and that meant something. At least they weren’t the same ones up there when Dominic had left for Dubai two weeks ago.

  “Will Ravens flew into town for some event,” Dominic explained and ignored the dreamy sigh Alisha made at the sound of his fraternity brother’s name. Dominic’s frat brother Will recently became the CEO of his family’s corporation, Ravens Cosmetics, and was in town for some event. “Where is everyone?” Dominic asked, looking around.

  He’d opened Crowne’s Garage in Southwood in hopes of getting the townsfolk to come here rather than his ranch. Growing up poor in Miami, Florida, Dominic had known his mother could not afford to bring their hunk of junk to a mechanic every month, nor could she afford a newer car. At a young age Dominic learned how to fix the family vehicle. Eventually Dominic opened up his own garage. Miami was too busy and crowded for his classic car collection and the ranch land in Southwood seemed like a perfect place to relocate. A write-up in the local paper sent people in town to his place and flooded his driveway with cars needing routine services. In order to keep his privacy, Dominic opened up a shop in town. He liked restoring vehicles.

  Twenty-one-year-old Alisha blew a bubble with her bright pink gum and shrugged. “I mean, I told everyone to leave.”

  “Why?”

  “Because there’s nothing to do here and there’s a whole kickball-slip-n-slide tournament going on right now.”

  Dominic bit the inside of his cheek to keep from saying anything too rash. He’d made the decision when he moved to Southwood six months ago to bring his party-going sister with him. Their mother, Angela, was at her wit’s end with Alisha. She wasn’t in school and hung out with a fast crowd in Miami. Ten years older than his sister, Dominic had become the surrogate father to Alisha and their brothers, Dario and Darren, when their father left them. Dario and Darren were at least on the right path in life and in college, even if it were every other semester, and staying out of trouble...usually.

  “And what about the cars here?” Dominic hiked his thumb toward the vehicles in the air.

  “Gee, Dom, the parts haven’t arrived in the mail like we expected,” Alisha said through a forced smile. She picked up a stack of letters. “I know what I’m doing.”

  Because the stack in her hands was so thick, Dominic questioned her last statement. “I ordered the parts three weeks ago, before I left.”

  “I know.” Alisha handed Dominic the stack of mail addressed to him. “And I need you to go through these as soon as possible. You never responded to the District Planning Committee about sponsoring a contestant.”

  Dominic’s left eye twitched as he wondered what his sister was talking about. “What?”

  “There is a beauty pageant this coming weekend and I know you want to put up a few more garages in town.”

  “Okay?” Dominic said, humming to himself. No one could compare to the beauty he’d met this afternoon—sort of met. He never caught her name, but Dominic promised himself once he did, he’d never forget it. The cupcake girl was unlike any woman Dominic had met in a while. After spending two weeks in Dubai and enticed with vapid, gorgeous women who ate nothing but lettuce, Dominic enjoyed seeing a woman with a healthy appetite. Having practically raised Alisha, Dominic was well aware of how women behaved around men. Alisha and her friends pigged out at home but pretended to be on diets on dates.

  The trip to Dubai had been half pleasure and half business. His other college friend Aamir Assadi requisitioned Dominic’s help with a few vehicles and insisted he come to Dubai to deliver them personally. Aamir sent his private plane for Dominic and set him up in his family’s high-rise condominium. When he learned Will planned on coming to Southwood, Dominic wasn’t heartbroken to cut his time overseas short to accommodate Will’s arrival. Owning three different garages and two restoration shops in South Florida allowed Dominic to expand up north, to serve a larger clientele without distraction from city life. Dominic had purchased a ranch-style home on the outskirts of Southwood. The large space of open pavement was a huge selling point for test-driving the horsepower of his restored vehicles. In emergency cases, he might be asked to use the paved land for life-flight helicopters. Dominic kept the strip clear of parked cars, so landing on the makeshift airstrip had cut down on travel time for Will and hopefully opened up time for the friends to hang out and catch up.

  “Tiffani still needs a sponsor.”

  Dominic did not need his sister’s fast best friend thinking there was a future for them. Sponsoring her would not clarify things. “Tiffani’s parents own The Cupcakery. Why aren’t they sponsoring her?”

  “They are, but if you’re willing—”

  “I’m not.” Dominic cut her off. “I don’t have time for a pageant or the drama of one, Alisha. Try again.” He pushed away from the counter and headed off toward his office.

  “You need to become more involved with the community,” Alisha hollered after him. “Folks are still bringing their cars to the mechanic in Peachville. Tiffani knows people. She can be an asset.”

  Dominic let the glass door close without a care about the rattling frame. A sigh of relief escaped from the back of his throat. No more hotel rooms. No more surprise visitors knocking on the door. While Dominic wasn’t the best cook, he at least would have something he made without feeling guilty for all the richness...maybe even a protein shake, and then he’d hit the gym. Dominic strolled over to his desk, wondering why he didn’t stay home. When Aamir’s private plane landed on Dominic’s property to drop him off, he should have just stayed home instead of coming in to check on the garage. Alas, Dominic knew he came because the garage was his baby.

  The walls in Dominic’s office were adorned with pictures of some of his work: the first car he’d restored, the celebrities he worked with and the first garage he opened up when he turned twenty. Not bad for a kid who almost dropped out of high school. Dominic glanced up at his diploma, framed by his family. His mother had been so proud to have a
son earn a full scholarship to Stanford, especially when they grew up on the wrong side of the tracks.

  A stack of paperwork teetered on the corner of his custom-designed desk. The hood of the 1969 Camaro had been stripped from the rest of the body and turned into a desk in a twisted form of revenge from an old friend of his who’d found his car-loving wife with another man. Dominic stretched before sitting down. The door to his locker room was still closed, but he knew his coveralls were waiting for him. He’d spent the last two weeks showing off the Ferrari and Porsches he customized for Aamir, but now he was ready to get started working beneath the hood of any of the cars. Being underneath a four-thousand-pound car soothed him.

  Instead of getting up to change, Dominic sat and decompressed. His mind went back to the woman at The Cupcakery. For once Dominic wished he’d listened to Alisha and got more involved with the community. He sponsored Little League games. Several peewee baseball teams bore the Crowne’s Garage logo on the backs of their shirts. He never went to a game long enough to get to know anyone, though. Growing up and taking care of everyone in his family had never left time for Dominic to socialize. Alisha, on the other hand, had been out the first weekend she moved here. In order to keep her safe and from driving out to his ranch so late at night, Dominic bought Alisha a condo within walking distance of the garage. The two-bedroom place worked out fine for him as well when he worked later than expected in the garage.

  Rapid, hard knocks banged against the glass and the door opened before Dominic had a chance to say anything. Alisha appeared in the doorway, hand on her hip.

  “Please,” Dominic said, waving her inside. She didn’t budge but instead huffed. “What?”

  “I’m heading out now.”

  “Okay?” Dominic asked in a slow drawl.

  “You forgot, didn’t you?”

  Dominic returned Alisha’s huff. “Apparently so. What’s up?”

  “You were going to watch your nephew this evening.”

  By nephew, Alisha meant her teacup pig, Hamilton. Dominic wiped his hands down his face. “Alisha, I just returned.”

  “Yes, from a vacation without me while I stayed here and ran the garage,” she reminded him. “When you told me how long you were going without me, you promised me the minute you got back you’d babysit. And you’re back. Perfect timing, too.”

  “Alisha.”

  “Dominic,” Alisha whined and bobbed her knee—the telltale sign of an adult temper tantrum. “C’mon. I won’t be out long. I’ll even buy you a pizza.”

  With his stomach rumbling, Dominic was sold. But he couldn’t let Alisha know. “Fine, I’ll do it.”

  “Good,” his sister squealed. “I’m going to leave to get ready. I’ll see you in a few?”

  “I suppose.”

  There were a few things Dominic needed to go through before leaving. He preferred to go straight home, but a promise was a promise. His father, John, made the biggest promise ever and let everyone down. “I’ll be back” was more than a line from a futuristic cyborg. The last words John had said to the family had stuck with Dominic forever. He hated to let anyone down, especially anyone he cared for. Dominic flipped through his mail and spotted the familiar return address from an Arizona home. Like he did with the other letters he received since setting up shop in Southwood, he threw it away.

  Dominic lingered in the office for a little bit while Alisha and her friend got ready at her condo. He saw no need to sit in Alisha’s frilly living room and dodge Tiffani’s attempts at flirting. It wasn’t like Tiffani wasn’t pretty—she was—but she was also his sister’s good friend, which meant she had a lot of qualities like Alisha. Dominic wanted a woman with goals in life. Alisha cared about the next party and Dominic blamed himself for always indulging in her demands. His mind wandered to the woman at the bakery as he lifted his hand to knock on his sister’s door. He shook his head at the idea of asking the cupcake woman if she wanted to get paid to stand around and look pretty at some pageant.

  The door opened before Dominic had a chance to knock. A wave of scent from a sweet-smelling candle swooshed through the opening of the door. Tiffani popped her head out.

  “I thought I heard the elevator.”

  Alisha lived in one of the newer condominiums in Southwood. It was built in a square with a courtyard down below in the center. The elevator closer to Alisha’s place was out of commission. The other elevator was down the hall on the other side. How Tiffani had heard the elevator when he took the steps was beyond him. Had she seen him pull into the parking lot from Alisha’s balcony?

  Rather than embarrass her, he nodded. “Yep, that was me.”

  A pink teacup pig wearing a pink tutu wedged his snout in the door crack. Tiffani stepped aside to let Dominic in. Once Hamilton finished sniffing him, he began to hop around Dominic’s black boots. A load of laundry tumbled in the dryer in the room to the right of the foyer. Dominic proceeded down the hall, passing the guest bedroom he slept in on the nights he worked too late and the kitchen to the left. The island bar was home to a number of expensive bottles of wine. A pile of folded laundry sat on the edge of Alisha’s glass-top table. In the living room Dominic found clothes on top of the long pink-and-gray-plaid couch. The gray recliner was covered with a pink blanket with Hamilton’s toys. The only thing open was a love seat. With Tiffani hot on his tail, Dominic chose to stand in the center of the living room and play it off as if he wanted to check out the view from the glass doors leading out onto the balcony.

  “So, how’s business?”

  Small talk. Great. “Business is fine,” Dominic answered politely. “I’m guessing since there was one peach cupcake left, business is good for you, too?”

  “Oh, yes, my mama is pleased with the sales.”

  Dominic nodded in agreement. In his research of where to set up shop, Southwood’s business scene was exploding with mom-and-pop shops. The only thing not growing was the club scene, and Dominic was fine with that. The sooner the ladies left, the sooner they’d return and Dominic could get back to the ranch.

  “I should have made a new batch for you tonight,” Tiffani suggested.

  “No, really.” Dominic shook his head and patted his gut. “I don’t need any more.”

  “Any more? You gave the last one away,” Tiffani shrieked. The corners of her mouth turned down in a frown.

  With perfect timing, Alisha strolled into the living room. The outfit she wore, half a black dress that stopped just at her butt and black stiletto heels, was best suited for a nightclub in Miami and, considering she was his little sister, best on someone else. “Gave away a cupcake? Are you nuts?”

  “Some new girl in town,” supplied Tiffani with an eye roll.

  Alisha looked up at Dominic. “You met a girl?” Alisha’s voice dripped with pride.

  “I’m not Quasimodo, Alisha.”

  “No, you’re not,” said Tiffani.

  “I didn’t say you were,” Alisha said, playfully punching him in the arm. “Why didn’t you tell me you met a girl? When do I get to meet her? What does she do around here?”

  Dominic grabbed Alisha’s fist and tapped her on the shoulder. “This is exactly why I don’t tell you things. You guys go on and enjoy your evening.”

  Alisha pouted for a moment before grabbing her clutch out from under the pile of clothes on the couch. “I ordered a pizza. My favorite, so I expect there to be leftovers.”

  “You eat a whole pie once or twice and suddenly people start claiming their own.” Dominic chuckled.

  “I’m serious,” warned Alisha. “And Hamilton has an order of carrots and celery coming, too.”

  The pig got to eat healthier than the people. Hamilton squeaked at Dominic’s feet. Dominic bent down and heavy-handedly petted the thing. “Why do you have a tutu on him?”

  “Because a tuxedo would look sill
y.” Alisha sighed and nudged Tiffani forward so they could leave.

  Alone in the living room, Dominic glanced around for the remote control. By the time he found it underneath the third cushion, the doorbell rang. He figured it had to be the pizza—Alisha’s favorite pizza, spinach Alfredo. He’d half expected Alisha to leave him with the bill, but the delivery guy said the pizza was paid for and left without waiting on a cash tip. She probably felt guilty for asking him to babysit Hamilton. Of course, Dominic thought with a chuckle, if she really wanted to make things right, she would have ordered a double-pepperoni pizza.

  Dominic set the extra-large box on the counter. From the smell alone he knew the order was wrong. This was a double pepperoni, not what Alisha ordered. He raised his brow in question, wondering if Alisha had pulled a fast one on him and really got him his favorite. Who was he kidding? She mentioned she wanted her leftovers. And Hamilton’s dinner was missing, as well. Dominic tilted the box up to see the name on the order. Lexi Pendergrass Reyes, apartment 501.

  If he wasn’t mistaken, Lexi was married and living in the suburbs. Last fall he’d serviced a beautiful 1952 Fiat 8V. The car had been a present from Lexi to her husband, Stephen Reyes, who happened to be the same man who sold him the ranch. They were nice people, but Dominic knew they didn’t live here. With a huff, Dominic grabbed the cardboard box and turned to Hamilton. “I’ll be right back with our food.”

  Hamilton squealed an answer and then, with a snort, turned back toward the living room, spun around three times and collapsed on a pile of clothes on the floor. Dominic shook his head and walked out the door. He found apartment 501 on the other side of the building. Had he realized, he could have gone into the bedroom and called out from the courtyard-side balcony.

  Loud music thumped down the hallway. The Reyes family had two girls. Was one of them old enough to be throwing a party? Dominic found himself in a dilemma. Did he stop the party from going on or did he at least make the pizza exchange? He preferred going against a teenager than dealing with Alisha’s wrath when she came home in a few hours to the wrong pizza.