Page 18 of Hot to Trot

Scarlet shook her head. "You know it’s the truth. You've live in this town - heck, live next door to him. What everyone says about him has always been true. All you need is a ticket to stand in line for a ride on Brent. He's-"

"Your sister's husband and a part of this family. Remember that. Because as much as she adores you, Summer, she loves her husband. And, honestly, he loves her."

"Scarlet,'' she reminded her aunt.

"Fine. Scarlet. Summer. Whoever you are." Aunt Frances waved a hand. "Your name doesn't change the fact those two have always had a connection."

"How? She didn't live here long enough to fall in love. She was a kid."

"Love doesn't happen when it's convenient, honey. It happens when it's meant to be. Rayne and Brent were meant to be from the first time he pegged her with an acorn to get her attention. He truly loves her way more than he loves himself."

Scarlet didn't respond. What could she say? No sense in arguing. Not with Aunt Fran, who had obviously had her boots charmed off by the dashing boy next door. "Maybe."

"Nomaybeabout it. If you stick around for a while, you might see for yourself and feel better about things."

She truly wished her aunt’s words to prove true. Not only for Rayne, but for her, too. How long had it been since sheherself felt truly happy? She knew the answer, of course. It had been a Wednesday and John had taken her to dinner and then a concert in Central Park. They had danced beneath the stars and she'd outlined all the things they would do in Italy when the film wrapped. They would shop for heirloom silver in the piazza shops, hike the trails above deep blue lakes, and eat at the trattorias hidden down meandering alleys. It had been the last night they'd made love. The last night he'd kissed her and whispered he loved her.

The next afternoon, it had been over. Nothing but smoldering ashes in what was once her heart. Scarlet caught the tiny charm John had given her between her fingers and directed her thoughts from the pain echoing in her empty heart. She couldn't save Rayne, but she could help the town by speaking up against Harvey Primm and the misguided library board. She ignored the voice in her head telling her she searched to save others because she couldn't save herself. That wasn't true. She was okay and getting better every day.

Hadn't the sexy police chief jump-started her with his touch, with his warm-okay, sizzling- regard?

Still, a town meeting and a protest would be just what she needed to make her feel productive. Useful. Powerful.

She had less than a week to help organize opposition to the censorship ofThe Magpie's Jewel.Her blood roared with purpose. She'd fight the good fight. No man could stand in her way.

Not even the memory of the one she loved still.

CHAPTER FIVE

SIX DAYS LATER, Scarlet wiped her brow with the damp cloth she'd stored in the ice cooler at her feet and lifted her sign with purpose.

"Children have rights!" she shouted, circling the flagpole and World War II memorial centered in the front of the Oak Stand branch of the Howard County Library. Other protestors joined her in her cries for justice. There were more than twenty of them. All from different walks of life, all gathered with purpose-to protest the library board's removal ofThe Magpies Jewelfrom the shelves of the children's sections of the seven county library branches.

"It's hotter than hell today," Meg Lang grumbled, tugging her long skirt up so air circulated around her pale legs."Wish I'd worn something cooler. Thought the black Goth look would stage well for the cameras. I'm paying for my stupidity. "

Scarlet smiled. Rayne's assistant had likely let vanity get in the way of practicality. The sun beat down on the shoulders of the protestors. Meg wore a tight T-shirt that declared Protest This! with a not-so-polite gesture below it, along with a long, tight black skirt and combat boots. Her short hair stuck to herhead, making her look as if she were a silent-screen goddess. Well, it would have if not for the silver ring piercing her nose.

"Yeah, I don't think I could wear any less without getting arrested." Kate Mendez groaned, fanning herself with a now pudgy hand. She was way too pregnant to be out in the sun. A fact her husband, Rick, complained about every five minutes on the dot. Currently, her husband stood on the sidewalk with the yummy Oak Stand Police Chief.

Scarlet eyed Adam as he watched attentively from the sidelines. He stood with several townspeople who had gathered as news cameras whirred, capturing the sweating but determined protestors. "Bet he'd do it, too." ·

"Who? Adam?" Kate brushed away a trickle of sweat. "Maybe. He's a by-the-book kind of guy, but he hasn't taken our signs away and made us leave even though technically we don't have a permit. Although, I think I might let him cuff me if it means spending some time in the AC."

Scarlet thought she might let him cuff her with or without air-conditioning.

Kate's husband appeared at her elbow. "Okay, babe, I've let you do this for an hour. Now I'm ordering you to put that sign down and think about our unborn child." Rick crossed his arms over a phenomenally muscled chest. Tattoos peeked out from beneath the snug T-shirt he wore and his golden skin seemed to soak in the rays of the sun, empowering him in his quest to remove his nearly nine-months-pregnant wife from the library memorial.

"No one orders me to do anything," Kate responded, rubbing her back in spite of her fierce words.

"Kate, I appreciate your passion, but you can't endanger yourself or your child for this,” Scarlet said, resting the sign on her shoulder.

Another news van pulled aside the curb, joining several others lining the downtown square. A larger crowd had gathered on the sidewalk and the buzz of their conversation provided energetic background music for the showdown between the protestors and Harvey Primm, who had not yet showed his yellow-bellied self to the townspeople ringing the grounds of the historic library.

"I have an obligation to make this a better world for him, Rick. We've got to make sure ignorance doesn't prevail in this matter. Not here. Not now." Kate crossed her arms over her baby bump.

"How about I take up the sign and you go over to the Curlique and put your feet up?" Betty Monk, the co-owner of the town's only true salon, interrupted. "We'll do shifts."

Kate slid her eyes toward the wispy-headed older lady who wore an outlandish pair of silk parachute pants and long tunic. She looked like an older, plumper, very much whiter version of M.C. Hammer. "Can I get my toes done while I'm there?"

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