Chapter 1
It had been fifteen years since
Miranda Underwood left the small town of Clint, Alabama in her rear view
mirror. It’s been fifteen years since she stepped foot in the town either. But
now as she drove her silver Maserati down the long stretch of open road and
watched as the fields of grass soon turned into familiar childhood
hangouts-like old man Sheldon’s candy shop where he always let Miranda and her
little sister Ashley get as many free candy as their little hands could carry,
the old junior high baseball field where she had her first kiss, and the old
malt shop where she had her first job-she felt a peace she hadn’t felt in years
come over her.
At the first stoplight in town,
Miranda rolled town all the windows in her car and closed her eyes in pleasure
as the fresh country air hit her face. It reminded her of when she and Kent
used to drive his pickup truck to lookout point-the highest hilly part of town
where a lot of young people hung out-and lay out in the bed of his truck while
the warm summer air danced with their hair and clothes. It was also the best
place to see the stars at night.
A honk behind her startled her
out of her thoughts. She looked to find the light had turned green. She waved
an apology to the car behind her, and took off again. As she approached the old
car service station, she looked at her gas tank and figured she ought to fill
it up before she made it to her parents’ house.
Veering into the parking lot,
Miranda found herself impressed with what the owners had done to the place.
When she was growing up there, the building always had chipping white paint,
the ground was always dark stained, and the inside made you want to turn back
around and run away. But now it was painted a caramel brown color. The grounds,
although still slightly stained, you could tell the owner spent a lot of time
keeping it cleaned.
Miranda sat in her car for a good
two minutes before she noticed that no one was going to come out to pump her
gas. The place had always been a place where the workers did everything for
you. Sighing, she swung open her car door and stood to her full 5’7 height,
which was currently 5’11 in her four inch cream leopard print Louboutin heels.
Walking into the shop side of the
service station, she was taken aback by the cleanliness of the inside. It was
bright white; all the shelves were neatly organized with chips candy and
sunflower seeds. The soda fridges where actually clean enough to see inside.
Whoever the new owner was, they deserved a metal for the way they transformed
the station.
“Hello,” she called out after
seeing no one around.
“I’m back here,” a masculine
voice called out from behind a large crate of Snapple juice.
“Okay, but shouldn’t you be
outside? I sat there in my car for five minutes waiting for someone to come out
and service me,” Miranda fussed as she removed her large Prada sunglasses from
her face.
“That’s because the gas pumps are
now self service. We no longer have attendants to do that.” His voice got
closer to Miranda
“When did that stop?”
“About fifteen years ago when I
took it over. You obviously haven’t been to Clint in a long while. Why don’t
you…” his voice trailed off as they finally came face to face. “Miranda
Mary-Jane Underwood. Why, you’re the last person I’d expect to ever see here
again.”
Upon hearing her name come out of
the guy’s mouth, Miranda took a closer look at the person who stood in front of
her. The pasty face that was once covered in red acne, was now smooth tanned
olive colored and was covered by a stubbly 5 o’clock shadow beard. The
chocolate brown hair that used to hang well past his chin in a bad mullet was
now neatly cropped into a sleek medium-length cut. He was now taller, much
taller than she was, but he still held the same intense gaze in his crystal
blue eyes that mad you think he was looking right into your soul.
“Kent Lambert,” she said in a
breathless voice.
“The one and only,” he grinned,
revealing pearly white teeth.
“Wow, you look…wow.” Miranda
couldn’t think of the proper thing to say to describe how handsome he had
become. “What happened?”
Kent shrugged his wide shoulders.
“Late bloomer, I guess. Oh, I know why your hear. Ashley’s getting married this
weekend to the mayor’s son, Dennis O’Shey.
“That’s right.”
“You’re looking good. You look like
you stepped off someone’s fashion runway.” He openly stared at her and took in
the leopard print heels, the dark denim skinny jeans, the fashionable cream
blouse, and the designer shades that sat perched upon her dark hair. Her hair.
The last he seen her it was full of wild wayward dark curls that had a mind of its
own. He used to love to pull a curl, and watch it spring back into place. Now
it had been straitened and hung all around her shoulders like a silky black
curtain. Her smooth cocoa skin had always been perfect and required little
makeup to look nice, but he could still see color above her eyes and tented
color on her plump lips.
“I’ll take that as a complement.”
Miranda shifted nervously from one foot to the other under his intense
scrutiny.
“I guess. I rather liked the girl
who used to wear ripped jeans, dingy sneakers, and graphic tees,” he said.
“We all change.”
Some more than others, he
thought. She looked like one of those Hollywood stars she was always reporting
about. California had obviously gotten to her. He wondered if the old Mi-Mi was
still under all those designer clothes somewhere.
“Well, I’m sure you don’t have
time to listen to me babble. Why don’t I help you pump your gas so you can be
on your way,” he said as he led her back outside.
“You don’t have to do that. I can
do it myself,” she said, now embarrassed by how much she didn’t know about the
place she grew up.
“It’ll be my pleasure,” he halted
as he stepped out the door and whistled. “Wow, this silver bullet belongs to
you?”
“It’s a Maserati. And yes, it
belongs to me,” she said.
“California sure is treating you
nice.”
Kent didn’t say another word as
he filled up her tank for her. As she passed him the money, he held it in her
hand for a few minutes.
“Don’t be a stranger,” he said as
he stared deeply into her big amber eyes.
Miranda gasped as a strange
electricity went up her arm from the contact. The brief touch warmed her
insides. She shivered when he let go, feeling cold and craving to feel his hand
in hers again.
“I’ll be here all week, so I’m
sure we’ll run into each other again.” Miranda smiled, the sped off before she
said something stupid
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