Page 1 of Call Back

Chapter 1

“Oh, my God. You’re Magnolia Steele,” a woman said from behind me, her voice shaking with excitement.

It was my first day back to work at Rebellious Rose Boutique in historic downtown Franklin, Tennessee, since the attack. A murderer had viciously beaten me in my apartment three days before, and I was still sporting visible bruises, although they were mostly camouflaged with makeup. I’d been hesitant about returning to work, but I needed the little money my sales clerk job paid. So, sure, I’d expected to deal with customers’ reactions to my domestic violence look, but I hadn’t prepared myself for being recognized by name, although I wasn’t sure why not. Only four weeks ago, I’d acquired national attention for exposing my breasts in an epic meltdown on the opening night of my debut as a star in a Broadway musical.

I spun around to face her, plastering a smile on my face. “Can I help you?”

The woman was in her early twenties, which didn’t surprise me since my new fame seemed to have come from all the YouTube videos of my performance, and not the theatre world. “It is you!”

“We’re having a sale on cookbooks,” I said with a forced smile, ignoring her comment. “Twenty percent off.”

“Will you sign it?” she asked with a giggle.

“She’d be delighted to,” a man said from the front of the store. I shot him a glare when I recognized his voice. “She’ll even personalize it.”

Colt Austin, Middle Tennessee’s resident womanizer, had just walked into the shop.

Great.What was he up to?

Colt was an exceptionally good-looking man, and he knew it. With his short dark-blond hair, crystal blue eyes, and the two dimples that appeared whenever he smiled, he enthralled almost every woman who crossed his path. Even I had a hard time escaping his spell, and I was immune to most men’s charm.

I gave him a patient smile. “I’m sure she doesn’t want that.”

Colt walked up to me and wrapped an arm around my upper back, his hand squeezing my shoulder. I tried not to flinch at the contact—my bruises were worse than I liked to let on, and Colt didn’t know how many there were.

“Don’t be so modest, Magnolia.” He flashed his bad-boy smile at the woman, and her attention momentarily shifted focus, not that I was surprised. Colt garnered attention from women of every age and marital status.

“Oh, my gosh,” the woman said as a dreamy expression crossed her face. “Are you a country music star?”

“Not yet, darlin’,” he said with a wink. “But I’m workin’ on it. Why, Maggie and I had a performance just last Friday night. I’m trying to convince her into another one. Maybe you’d like to come?”

I shoved an elbow into Colt’s side, and he dropped his hold. Taking advantage of my freedom, I moved closer to the display. “We don’t have any performances planned in the near future. Now, about those cookbooks . . .”

“I’ll take two,” the woman said, practically bouncing with excitement as she glanced from me to Colt, unsure which of us deserved her attention more.

“Which ones?” I asked as I picked up a thick book. “Here’s one featuring Southern cooking, and another on bread—”

“Sure, those two, I don’t care,” she said, keeping her gaze on Colt. “I just want you to sign them. And him too.”

Colt’s grin spread, and I rolled my eyes. His already impossible ego would become unfathomable. “I’d be delighted,” he said.

I grabbed the two books and headed toward the register, ignoring Colt’s amused grin.

I’d kill him later. With no witnesses.

Alvin, my boss and the owner of the boutique, tried to interest our excitable customer in an apron and some cooking utensils, but she shook her head, still starstruck. “Just the cookbooks and their autographs.”

I started to ring her up as Colt shimmied closer to her. He leaned his elbow on the counter as he peered into her flushed face. “You from around here, darlin’?”

Her face turned even redder, and she stammered, “Uh . . .”

“Why, Colt Austin,” I said in an accusatory tone, planting a hand on my hip. “Are you flirting with that girl rightin front of me?”

The dreaminess left the young woman’s face. “Oh, my goodness. Is he your boyfriend?” She shook her head. “Of course he would be,” she said, somewhere between mournful and reverential. “He’s gorgeous. You’re gorgeous . . .”

I couldn’t stop the smile that lifted my lips. The police hadn’t let me back into my torn-up apartment yet, and my sister-in-law, Belinda, had loaned me some of her clothes. The cream, vintage-style dress with yellow and pink rosebuds did great things for my complexion.

Momentary confusion had flickered in Colt’s eyes, but it was quickly replaced by playfulness. “You know what we have isn’t exclusive, Maggie Mae. And I can’t help it if this beautiful young woman has captured my attention.”

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