Page 45 of Handling Skylar
“Have you picked out your passages yet, since you’ve already read the book?”
“I think the library scene for sure. It’s a long passage and could probably be broken up into two days, then there’s the passage where she throws in her wedding ring to help the confederacy, but inside she’s resentful of Charles while Rhett goads her.”
He nodded. “Good stuff.” He tilted my chin up. “Are you going to memorize all of that?”
“I’ll have to. Some of it I know by heart, I read it so much under my blankets with a flashlight, so I think I’ll be all right. I’m sure the townspeople will enjoy the spectacle.”
He leaned down until his mouth was almost on mine, his eyes dancing with laughter. “I’m sure they will. I’m also sure you’ll nail it. I have no doubt.”
“You’re enjoying this. You like that I’m doing this because I want to get Anna Kate’s goat. You think I’m jealous of her.”
“No, not jealous, that would mean that I paid Anna Kate heed, which I don’t, and you know that well, babe. I like that you feel so…passionate about me that you’re willing to go through all of this for me.”
I cast my gaze down, feeling a little too vulnerable. “There’s more to this Belle thing. But, I’m determined not to back down. The initiation is juvenile and a bit unreasonable, but if Anna Kate thinks she has me by the short hairs, she’s going to be surprised. When life gives you lemons, make lemonade.”
“What more is there?” he asked at my dubious look.
“I have to recite the Belle credo if someone says the secret word.”
“What’s the secret word?”
“As if I would tell you,” I said, knowing the minute I did, he would invoke it. “You better get back to that application and I’m just going to re-read some of these passages, then I’ll get us some food.”
He reluctantly let me go and settled once more behind his laptop. He was so damned distracting with his unbuttoned shirt and his jeans riding low on his hips. The wide muscles of his chest and the mouth-watering definition of his lower abs and those enticing thick ridges on either side of his lean hips made me want to taste them with my tongue. The man was definitely lickable.
Instead, I took one more disgusted look at the “costume” I had to wear and started readingGone With The Wind. The credo, neatly typed would have to be memorized and recited. I could only pray no one said the magic word.
The next day, I emerged from the back room into the shop in preparation for my debut in the town square. Jordan took one look at me and her eyes widened. She almost made a terrible mistake and taken a chunk out of her client’s hair before she stopped herself.
“Oh my God. You look like Scarlett O’Hara. Is this part of the Suttontowne Belles’ initiation that you hinted at?”
“Do you think I would go traipsing around Suttontowne dressed like this on purpose?”
She threw back her head and laughed. “I guess not,” she said wiping her eyes. “You look amazing, if that’s any consolation.”
“It’s not,” I groused, jerking on the lace gloves. The dress was huge and unwieldy. I couldn’t imagine that women had dressed like this back in the day. The corset pinched my waist so tightly, I could barely breathe.
I headed for the door, but when I turned to say goodbye, everyone was behind me. “Really?”
One of my customers piped up. “I think you look beautiful.”
Electricity coursed through me and I dropped my head and sighed.Beautiful. That was the Belle Credo’s secret word.
At the top of my lungs, I shouted, “Steel Magnolias, charming accent so sweet, a Belle is a Belle very discreet, but make no error, we may be demure, a mix of sass and class to spare. But, let me be the first to assure, with a smile so pure, we know how to kick some ass.”
Laughter followed me out the door.
Eagerly nodding their heads, an anticipatory amused gleam in their eyes, they trailed me across the street to the open grass of the town square. They really needed something here, something nice. Maybe benches or they could plant a tree.
I had changed the passages around and decided to do the first time that Rhett kissed her, albeit on the cheek, but it was risqué for the day, especially after he’d offered her a bonnet. No “lady” worth her salt in 1860 would accept clothing or apparel from a man. That would make her a loose woman and broadcast to men that they could take liberties with her.
I stopped in the middle of the square and narrowed my eyes when I saw Anna Kate and some of her cronies come out of the diner. With smug smirks on their faces, they thought they were going to watch me crash and burn.
I opened the parasol and picked up the fan dangling from my wrist. Basically the scene begins with a passage about how Rhett really disliked Scarlett in mourning clothes, calling them, “funereal dresses.” He hated the crepe veil and the black, preferring color. I used my best narrator’s voice and the words from Margaret Mitchell flowed off my tongue.
The delight on Jordan’s face and on the faces of my other employees and their clients spurred me on. I continued on with the passage describing how Rhett didn’t like the black that Scarlett wore as a widow, but Scarlett decided she had to continue to wear to keep the scandalous gossip from buzzing around her. But Rhett’s description that she looked “like a crow and the black dresses added ten years to her age” tweaked her ego and vanity. When he pulled out a beautiful green bonnet, she knew she had to have it. I removed the one I was wearing to use it as a prop.
But Rhett was a rascal, encouraging her to try it on. When she offered him money for it, he turned her down flat and said it was a gift. She was right back to that scandal.
