Beth Albright - Sleigh Belles

Dallas was a model-like beauty, tall, with long legs and long, bouncy, blond hair. She loved her makeup, too, like any good pageant girl from the Deep South. The saying in the pageant world was More is better, and Dallas followed that to perfection. She justified it because she was on TV. But she would have worn that much makeup if she had been an employee at Taco Casa, her very favorite place to feed her biggest habit, sweet iced tea.

Whenever Dallas was around, you knew it. She was just as generous with her perfume as she was with her makeup. Flowerbomb was her trademark scent, and, since she always wanted to leave her mark, a heavy cloud of it followed her wherever she went.

Dallas glanced around the waiting room. It was literally bursting at the seams, not even room for a sneeze. Her archrival in all things from beauty pageants to men, Blake O’Hara Heart, was there, of course. She was Vivi’s best friend and the two were almost always together. Blake’s mother and grandmother were also there, along with Lewis’s older brother, newly elected Alabama Senator Harry Heart, who Blake was now divorcing. He was talking to everyone in the waiting room as if he was still on the campaign stump.

And Cal, unfortunately, was part of that little clique, making Dallas even more uncomfortable. She spotted him chatting with Blake and Sonny Bartholomew, the chief homicide investigator and Blake’s lover. Cal and Sonny had just solved a huge murder investigation together a few months ago, and they had become fast friends.

Dallas caught herself staring at Cal, and she noticed immediately that he still wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. He was tall—about six foot three—which had really helped him as a quarterback. He had dark golden sandy-brown hair that he wore a little long, swept over his forehead. His eyes were a light grayish green, and that body was still in perfect quarterback shape. People had always told him he was heartthrob handsome. He ran the computer sciences department out at the university now, which gave him a sexy-academic quality that made Dallas weak in the knees.

Dallas stiffened herself and put the microphone to her mouth as the camera began to roll again.

Just then, a child from another family in the waiting room zipped by her, slamming into her thigh and splashing her winter-white skirt with red punch.

“Oh, my Lord,” Dallas screeched. “Can’t y’all keep these kids under control? Look at me!”

Dallas was comin’ unglued, but she refused to ruin her broadcast. Her job was everything to her.

“And you’re on in five, four, three...” Daniel gave the countdown, and then she was on the air, red stain and all.

He pushed in tight, trying not to show the giant red blemish on her skirt. The kids were going wild, running around and around her in the excitement of getting on camera, their mother chasing them down on live TV.

Dallas kept it together. She was a pro.

She was always perfect when it came to her reporting, since there was nothing in the world she valued more than her flourishing career. She was used to shoving down her emotions and just doing her job. She had been doing that for years, working so hard to become the star reporter she was. Now she was pushing for that coveted anchor chair that would soon be vacant, so there was no room to be anything less than stunning.

“Baby Tallulah Heart has finally arrived,” she began, her smile gleaming for the camera, “topping off this incredible night for our Voice of the Crimson Tide. Alabama slammed Auburn in this year’s Iron Bowl earlier today, and our own Lewis Heart adds another redhead to his family, so we can count that as two victories this evening. I’m Dallas Dubois, for WTAL News. Good night and Roll, Tide!”

Daniel gave the signal the mic was off. “Okay, we’re clear.”

“Oh, my God, I cannot stand kids!” Dallas blurted out as soon as she was off the hook. Then she caught a glimpse of herself in the monitor, and the producer began shouting frantically in her ear, “We’re live! We’re still live!”

Dallas froze. Her career and that anchor chair were hanging in the balance.

“I just cannot, uh, stand kids, uh...to be alone during the holidays,” she said trying to save herself.

Daniel had the camera on a tripod and began writing notes on his hand at lightning speed for Dallas to read. She squinted as she spoke.

“So don’t forget to join us in a few short weeks for the Tuscaloosa production of...uhm...Sleigh Bells, to benefit the...uhm...Children’s Home. I’m Dallas Dubois, WTAL News.”

“And now we’re clear.” Daniel knew he was in a heap of trouble.

Dallas was fuming.

“Next time, you idiot, make sure I’m actually clear when you tell me clear. My God, you’re gonna cost me my job.”

She was perched somewhere between infuriated and mortified. With Cal causing a flare-up, kids ruining her skirt, not to mention telling all of Tuscaloosa County that she hated children, Dallas decided it was best to ignore her racing heart and her raging temper, and get the heck outta there as fast as possible.

She ran straight out into the cold November night as fast as her five-inch stilettos would carry her, jumped in the TV truck and switched on the heater. Daniel followed close behind, slamming the double doors in the back and jumping into the satellite truck. They sped away from the happy hospital waiting room, now in full party mode. Dallas had never really been part of that group anyway, although her father had been married to Blake’s mother for about ten years at one time, back when the girls were teenagers. Blake could technically have been considered her stepsister. Instead, they’d remained archrivals throughout their lives.

With Vivi and Blake best friends, and Lewis and Cal best friends, the circle was pretty tight, and they purposely left no room for Dallas. Not that she would have wanted to be part of that group in the first place. They all considered her a snob, and Dallas told herself she was just fine with all that. And she thought she was, till she had that flare-up tonight.

“See Cal’s back in town,” Daniel said, breaking the silence.

“Yeah, I saw. He’s been back since the spring, I think,” Dallas answered, making small talk.

“Didn’t y’all have a fling or somethin’?” Daniel asked her.

“I most certainly did not have a fling with him. I absolutely can’t stand that man,” she shot back. “And if you don’t hush your mouth, I swear I’m fixin’ to beat your ass,” she said with only a hint of sarcasm.

“I know what I saw. You looked a little nervous when he hugged you there.”

“No, I was just surprised. You know, caught in the moment, all the excitement.” Dallas fidgeted in her seat. “I’m cold, can you please just let it go and turn up the heat?”

Daniel had been Dallas’s cameraman the whole time she had worked at WTAL: six years and counting now. He was a smallish man with a dark receding hairline, though he was only about thirty. He had a warm smile and inviting, sweet brown eyes. He wasn’t married, and the girlfriends were here and there—no one at the moment. Dallas had never been interested in him romantically. She towered over him for one thing, and she wouldn’t be caught dead wearing flats to accommodate a man. She hardly was ever really nice to him, though she claimed it was because he was out to push her buttons, which he was doing right this second.

But then, she was hardly nice to anyone.

“From what I saw, you were already hot back there in Cal’s arms,” Daniel teased her. He grinned and reached for the heater controls as Dallas yanked her coat up around her neck. Unfortunately, Cal’s cologne was lingering on her jacket, making the flare-up continue, even though they had left the hospital.