Page 6 of Georgia On My Mind (Southern Promises)

“Gettin’ better every day.” Angel grinned revealing a gap between her teeth. Her eyes darted back to Hart, and she inhaled quickly. “I’m so sorry, sir. I was askin’ if you were waitin’ on anyone or if you were flyin’ solo?”

Gia slowly eased herself into the seat across from him with a look of chagrin. “I’m joining him, Angel. This is my new friend, Hart.”

Angel’s eyes widened in surprise, and she placed her hand on her hip. “Oh! Well, I’ll be right back with another glass of water and some menus.”

“Thanks, Angel.”

Once she was out of earshot, Gia leaned back against the booth and looked right at him. He was at a loss for words and had to slowly inhale as he took in her undeniable beauty. Her face was scrubbed clean of the show makeup she’d been wearing the night before, her rosebud lips and porcelain skin breathtaking. Her raven hair was tucked over one ear, the other side falling stick straight to her jawline. The short, black bangs were a stark contrast against the paleness of her skin, and the blueness of her eyes was warmer than before, as if she were happy or well-rested. He wanted to get lost in those eyes and drink in the heavenly aroma that surrounded her. It would be so easy to reach his hand across the table and caress her soft cheek.

A perfectly arched eyebrow jolted him out of his daydream as she stared back at him. “You look nice today, Mr. Parker.”

He cleared his throat and couldn’t help but smirk. “You look good too, Ms. Bates.” His voice was low and rumbled.

She blushed, biting her dewy lip. “Thanks. And thanks for meeting me for lunch. I believe this belongs to you.” She passed his suit jacket across the table. They smiled awkwardly at each other, Hart taking the clothing from her hands.

Angel arrived back at their booth and placed a glass of water in front of Gia before handing them menus. “So, we have a meat and three special today. Just three-ninety-nine, your choice of fried chicken, pork chops or meatloaf. Comes with three sides and a biscuit or cornbread. If you want something lighter, like Ms. Bates usually orders, I got some real good egg salad or pimento cheese.”

“The egg salad is the bomb,” Gia offered, handing the menu back to Angel.

“Then, I’ll have the same thing.” Hart looked up at the waitress who was pursing her lips with delight and handed back the menu.

“Well, now. That was easy.” She started to jot down their order on a small pad. “Two egg salad sandwiches on toasted wheat. Comes with homemade kettle chips or fruit, but I’ll bring out both so you can share. Anything other than water to drink? How about some sweet tea? It’s the best.”

“Sure,” Hart replied.

“I’m good with water,” Gia added, ripping the paper off a plastic straw.

Hart noticed Angel bump Gia’s shoulder with her fist in a friendly manner as she walked away.

“What was wrong with your friend?” he asked curiously, finally settling down.

Gia puckered her lips around the straw pulling in a gulp of water before responding. “She was in a wreck on Interstate 285. It almost killed her.”

“God, that’s terrible. She does look good after something like that.”

“Yeah. It’s nice to have her back.”

Angel dropped off Hart’s sweet tea.

“So, do you live around here?” He wanted to get to know Gia Bates. She was kind and thoughtful, but there was something else behind her shimmery, blue gaze he was determined to get to the bottom of.

“You could say that. I own a business in the strip mall across the parking lot.”

“Really?” Hart was surprised. Not only did she perform as Marilyn Monroe and teach ballet, but she owned a business in this neighborhood. There was a story behind that. “What kind of business?”

“It’s a dance studio. It’s where I teach ballet.”

Hart had assumed she was a hired teacher at a dance studio, not the owner of the business. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the Formica tabletop, and listened intently as Gia told him all about her profession. He didn’t even notice the restaurant fill up with the lunchtime crowd or the second refill of sweet tea Angel brought to him, mesmerized and impressed by Gia’s history as a classically trained ballerina in her youth. Her joy and love of dancing were evident in the way her eyes sparkled when she talked about it. It was as if a fire hydrant had opened, pouring out countless stories she shared of her years as a dancer. He was confused when she told him her ultimate dream as a teen had been to become an iconic Radio City Rockette.

“Why a Rockette?” he asked. “Why not the lead ballerina in Swan Lake or something?”

Gia giggled. “I don’t know. I love ballet, but I like other styles of dance just as much. I was always fascinated watching the Rockettes during the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade on television when I was growing up. There was just something so magical and cool about their camaraderie and precision. They’re like a family, you know? The Radio City Rockettes are an institution dating back to the 1930s. They’re part of history and there’s nothing else like them in any other job in show business. I just had to try.”

“Had you ever even been to the Big Apple before?” Hart asked with his mouth full of the most delicious egg salad.

“No,” she replied, wiping her face with a paper napkin. “It was god awful. I had never been anywhere other than Georgia in my entire life and had no idea what I was doing. It’s another level in that city—the dance business is very cut-throat, and the audition process is grueling. I didn’t last very long.”

“But did you at least try out for the Rockettes?” His brow furrowed, trying to imagine Gia in New York City.

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