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Mr. Reyes closed the three-foot gap between them. His square jaw twitched as his back molars ground together. His dark eyes narrowed on her face, judging her, as his creamy, café-au-lait skin turned a slight red. “Your work—” he used air quotes “—nearly got a sixteen-year-old assaulted at a club.”
Immediately Lexi’s mind wheeled. The dress would certainly bring unwarranted attention to a naive woman. Her mouth dropped open. “Assaulted? What a woman wears has no bearing on an attack. Is she okay?” She didn’t know what to say.
“No thanks to you.” Mr. Reyes took a step back and sniffed the air. His eyes skimmed over the pictures and trophies of her beauty pageants on the shop walls.
“Again, I am so sorry for the mix-up.”
“Sure you are,” he said, as if no longer interested in her explanation. His eyes fell on the curios representing her past.
The accolades ranged from her time as a teen pageant queen and crossed over into her world of modeling and her Bachelor of Fine Arts degree from Parsons The New School for Design. His eyes focused on Lexi’s party-girl images, including one of her wearing the infamous dress his niece had somehow got ahold of. The corners of his mouth turned into a frown; obviously her accolades did not help her apology. Just as her mother had predicted, people were going to judge her by her past.
Lexi cleared her throat, “Please let me know if I can do anything to help. I have two—”
Whatever Lexi wanted to say fell on deaf ears to Mr. Reyes. He snapped his gaze back at her. Not sure what had brought on his newly formed coldness, she shivered and stepped backward.
“What you do with your...whatever is your business. You need to keep underage girls out of here, so you don’t influence them with floozy dresses. ”
“Floozy?”
The smirk spreading across his face chilled her. “If the dress fits, lady.”
“I suggest you keep a better eye on your niece, instead of looking to blame other people.” Her statement clearly shocked him. With him off guard, she continued. “I think you should leave, Mr. Reyes,” Lexi said, tight-lipped, her heels clicking across the hardwood floors as she opened her office door. When the door swung open, Chantal and Andrew jumped back half a foot. “We’re done here,” she told him.
Mr. Reyes cocked his head to the side. The smile turned into a snarl as he approached. Stopping in front of her body, he leaned in close to her ear. Lexi turned her head, hoping to block out the delicious scent of this arrogant man.
“Lady, after what my niece went through, we’re far from done,” he whispered before straightening upright and squaring his shoulders at her assistant.
Andrew squared his lineman-sized shoulders backward. To the naked eye, Andrew appeared to be just a six-foot-tall mass of muscle with a long scar that raked down the left side of his cheek. One might assume the scar came from a knife fight, but in actuality it was from a hard lesson learned after running with scissors. Thankfully, today Andrew puffed his chest. Most people found him intimidating before they realized he was a teddy bear.
Mr. Reyes was not most people. He cast a rueful glance over his shoulder and laughed at the lack of danger. “I’ll be seeing you around, Ms. Pendergrass.” Without another word or glance he walked out. Lexi stood in disbelief.
“Who in the hell does he think he is?” Chantal breathed.
“My future boo.”
Giving a heavy sigh, Lexi rolled her eyes toward the natural lighting of the sky roof. “Too soon for jokes, Andrew, too soon.”
* * *
The emotional roller coaster Stephen had ridden in the past twenty-four hours was beginning to take its toll on him. At least sitting down in the backseat of his Lincoln Town Car, while his driver rode through the streets of Southwood with the air blowing on full blast, allowed Stephen to get a grip on his mental state before seeing the girls. He did not believe the ferocious protectiveness he’d felt when he learned his sixteen-year-old niece was in danger.
Since the death of their parents, Stephen had indulged his two nieces’ every whim. When Ken and Betty Reyes had passed away earlier that year, Stephen, along with his younger brother Nate, tried to honor the will and testament that left them with guardianship of the two girls. Together, the brothers tried to keep the living arrangements as simple as possible. They both packed up their respective homes in Atlanta and moved into Ken’s house.
The living arrangements weren’t ideal. Neither of the brothers wanted to move into the master bedroom, which left both of them taking two of the smaller bedrooms downstairs. Stephen didn’t put up a fuss. He wanted the girls to still live in the house they grew up in and attend the same school as their friends. The uncles let Kimber and Philly spend as much time with their elderly maternal grandparents as they wanted, from which stemmed part of the problem.
Stephen had no problem packing up his business in North Atlanta to move into the girls’ home. The business he created allowed him to work from any location, which currently meant out of the bedroom he occupied. Reyes Realty provided a number of services. One was helping families find their dream homes, and the other was Stephen’s brainchild. As a location scout for producers in the entertainment world, whether movies, television or musical productions, Stephen traveled a lot. To make up for things he missed out on, he knew he overindulged the girls, especially Kimber, who had taken her parents’ death hard and become withdrawn in the first few weeks. Finally, after spring break, Kimber had started to open up.
The night in question, Kimber had asked permission from Stephen and Nate to spend the night with a friend instead of going over to her grandmother’s. Now they had learned Kimber and her friend had sneaked out of the two-story home to attend a party across the Georgia-Florida border. “Another spin around the block?” His driver, Keenan, hidden behind a pair of mirrored sunglasses, craned his neck to see through the rearview mirror into the backseat.
“I think I’m good now, Keen.” Stephen inhaled deeply and blew out a smooth breath. Seconds after leaving Grits and Glam Gowns, Stephen’s breath had been ragged and quick. Lessons from anger-management classes had taught him to breathe through his emotion. Something about Lexi rubbed him the wrong way, in a way he did not expect. Miss Pendergrass’s tantalizing perfume clung to him. The time spent in the car cooling off should have helped Stephen gain control of himself and his recent interaction with the boutique owner. Much to his dismay, he had a soft spot for women who smelled as delicious as her—a mixture of flowers and cake. Stephen shook his head, snapping himself out of his erotic daze, and reassured Keenan of his decision.
Women like Lexi Pendergrass came a dime a dozen. He’d had her number the second he stormed into her office. Gold trophies, diamond tiaras, sashes, photographs of herself and what he assumed were her parents posed in front of a mansion-style home. She was a spoiled party girl with an expensive hobby to keep her occupied until—judging from her ringless finger—marriage.
The dress confirmed his impression. The dyed blond hair paired with her maple-sugar skin, while sexy as hell, supported his theory, as well. Stephen loosened the knot of his tie and tried to focus on the matter at hand.
As an uncle, he needed to look beyond the tempting Miss Pendergrass and remember what a bad influence a woman like her was on impressionable young girls. Kimber had nearly gotten herself attacked when she was wearing such a provocative dress. The police had no new information on her attackers, but someone needed to pay. He had decided to start with Lexi Pendergrass and her store. She needed to be put out of business.
As one of the top realtors in the nation, Stephen recognized a sales pitch when he saw one—especially when it came with a 3-D model. The boarded-up business next door to the gown shop had clued him in even more. Lexi Pendergrass planned to expand her shop? Over his dead body.
