Shelly Laurenston

The Mane Event


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women wandered around until they discovered a bathroom, while the woman introduced herself in one long rush as “Sissy Mae Smith. Smitty’s baby sister. Everybody just calls me Sissy. Or Sissy Mae. Some call me Mae. But I really don’t like that. So you can call me Sissy. Or Sissy Mae,” while dragging Dez into the bathroom with her.

      Thankfully empty, Dez gripped a corner of one of the bathroom sinks and took in a couple of deep, calming breaths.

      “That Mace sure does have a way, don’t he?”

      “You could say that.” Dez splashed some cold water on her face. As she dried off with a paper towel, “You know, I’ve been up against guys covered in the blood of their coworkers. I’ve faced off against stone-cold contract killers who thought they had nothin’ to lose. I’ve even gone toe to toe with a sixteen-foot python that had recently finished digesting its owner and I could tell he wanted me as the tasty dessert. And yet, none of that freaked me out as much as Mace Llewellyn does.”

      Sissy chuckled as she put on a dab of lip gloss. “Yeah, I know. That’s our Mace.”

      Dez turned and leaned her butt against the sink, her arms crossed in front of her. She opened her mouth to speak but realized she had nothing to say. Or maybe she had way too much to say.

      Sissy continued to touch up her makeup, but Dez could feel the woman watching her. She hated that. If there was something to say, then freakin’ say it.

      “What?” The woman caught her making out in the lingerie department; normal pleasantries one has with a stranger didn’t seem to apply anymore. “Why do you keep staring at me?”

      “Can I ask you a question?” Sissy’s accent flowed as thick as molasses. And she spoke as fast as Smitty talked slow. If the two didn’t look so similar, Dez would have never guessed they grew up in the same house.

      “Why not?”

      Sissy put her makeup away in her small leather purse and turned to face Dez. “You and Mace—”

      “Whoa, Gidget. There is no me and Mace.”

      “My name’s Sissy Mae. Or Sissy. Or—”

      “What I’m trying to say is that there is Mace period. And Dez period. There is no combining of the two. We are two separate sentences.”

      “Not to be rude, but you may be screaming ‘no way’ now, but out there you were screaming ‘dear God, yes!’ So I wanna make sure you ain’t about to hurt my boy.”

      Dez turned to face her. “Me? Hurt Mace? What are you, high?”

      “I beg your pardon?”

      “Look, Sally Mae—”

      “It’s Sissy Mae.”

      “Whatever. All I’m saying is, I couldn’t hurt Mace. I don’t think there’s anybody who can.”

      “That’s where you’re wrong. You are his one weakness. Maybe his only one.”

      Dez stared at Sissy Mae. Her mouth open. The woman must be sniffing glue. She didn’t think Mace had any weaknesses, but if he did, she couldn’t be one of them.

      “Honey, I don’t know what load of crap he’s told you, but I’m guessing Mace’s only interest in me right now is that he didn’t fuck me before.”

      “Well excuse me, darlin’, for being a bit direct and crass here—but that’s a huge load of bullshit.”

      Dez blinked in surprise. Like that, Sissy Mae went from charming, soft-spoken Southerner to a bitch on tractor wheels. “Look, Sissy—”

      Sissy cut her off. “That boy has been drivin’ me crazy with stories about your ass since I’ve known him. And I’ve known him for more than ten years now. Let me just say that, no offense, but I am tired of hearing about you. Trust me, if Mace only wanted to fuck ya, you’d have had your ankles around your ears by now. He’s looking for more than that. So get ready for the ride, darlin’.”

      With that, Sissy stomped out of the bathroom, only to glide back in ten seconds later, her demeanor completely back to old Southern charm. “Well, come on, darlin’. The boys are waitin’.”

      Sissy Mae gave a charming smile, and Dez felt that need again. The need to find out where all the exits were.

      “What exactly is your sister doing in there?”

      “Telling Dez she should run for her life?”

      Mace was in no mood. He checked his watch. If they left now they would end up at the restaurant a little early, but he had to get Dez away from these two. He admitted to himself the Smiths had truly become family. Because only family could embarrass and worry him this much.

      Sissy Mae dragged Dez back toward them. “Mace Llewellyn. You be sweet to this darlin’ little gal. I just love her!” Dez pulled away from Sissy and attached herself to Mace’s side.

      He leaned down and asked against her ear, “You okay?”

      “Just keep me away from your hillbilly friends,” she murmured back.

      Mace kissed the top of her head and focused back on the siblings.

      “The ballet? What the hell am I going to do at the ballet,” Smitty barked.

      “I didn’t invite you, Bobby Ray Smith. It’s only for me and the girls. So piss off.” With that, Sissy Mae Smith walked off, or sauntered depending on your perspective, tossing over her shoulder, “Bye, Dez. It was nice meetin’ ya.”

      “Uh…you too, Sissy Mae.”

      Smitty’s big shoulders slumped in defeat. “Now I have nothin’ to do.”

      With a wild look of relief, Dez clutched Smitty’s arm. “You could come with us. To dinner.”

      Oh no, she didn’t. “No, he can’t.”

      Dez glared at him. “Yes. He can.”

      Mace glared back. “No. He can’t.”

      “I don’t see what the big deal is. I’ve got my SUV, I can drive us all down there.”

      “Smitty’s got a date.”

      “No, I don’t.”

      Mace took a menacing step toward Smitty, but Dez stepped between them. “You’ve got two choices, Llewellyn. Either Smitty comes with us or you go alone.”

      Smitty shrugged and in that slow drawl Mace suddenly detested, “Now, y’all. I don’t wanna be puttin’ anybody out.”

      Mace pinned Smitty with a look. “I hate you.”

      “Back off, Mace.” Dez turned and rubbed Smitty’s arm. “You’re coming with us, Smitty.”

      “Well, if you insist.” He smiled at Mace, and Mace’s entire body tightened with the need to beat Smitty within an inch of his life. “Where y’all plannin’ to go, anyway?”

      “Van Holtz Steakhouse.”

      Smitty started laughing and couldn’t seem to stop. Yeah. He’d never hear the end of this one. Mace Llewellyn willingly heading into Pack territory for one reason and one reason only.

      Dez stepped away from the two men. “Is there a problem with this place I don’t know about? I mean, do they piss in the food or something?”

      “No. No.” Smitty cleared his throat. “They are a fine, fine establishment. And if you like your steak bloody, you’ll love it there. It’s almost like they hunted it up that very mornin’.”

      “Okay.” Although Dez appeared seriously wary. “Um…let me buy a couple more gift certificates and then we can go.”

      Mace watched her move off toward a cash register. Once out of his line of sight, he grabbed Smitty by the neck, lifted the man’s