04 Lowcountry Bordello(23)

“That’s too bad.” Olivia pouted, playing it up.

Nate nodded goodbye and continued down the street.

Olivia stepped in front of the door. “Aunt Dean? Aaaa-unt Deeeean. My hands are full. Can you open the door?”

In the background, I heard steps on the porch. Moments later, the front door opened and Miss Dean appeared. “Lord a mercy, Olivia. What’s all this noise?”

Though the whole scene was being videoed, I snapped a few stills of Miss Dean.

“My hands are full. Are you ready?” Olivia turned and called to the driver. “Hey, Santa Baby, can you pop this cork?”

He rushed over. “Yes, ma’am.”

She handed him the bottle. “Is everyone ready?”

“I suppose we are,” said Miss Dean. “I declare, Olivia, this is mighty generous of you, but a little more notice would’ve worked out much better.”

“Now, Aunt Dean. That would’ve spoiled the surprise.” Olivia held her left hand out towards the driver. He took a flute and filled it.

“Well, I suppose.” Miss Dean stepped onto the sidewalk.

Sounds of heels on wood and women chattering drifted across the street.

The driver passed the glass to Miss Dean, then took another flute and filled it for Olivia.

A stunning redhead, who might’ve approached six feet tall even without the five-inch gladiator heels, appeared in the doorway. I snapped a few photos with the Canon. Her black slim-fit slacks, lace camisole, and black jacket suggested Forever 21.

Miss Dean said, “Olivia, I’m not sure you’ve met Lori. She’s only moved in recently. Lori Russell, this is my niece, Olivia.”

I opened the Voice Memos app. “Tall redhead. Lori Russell.”

“It’s lovely to meet you,” Olivia said.

“Likewise.” Lori’s small voice didn’t match her bold appearance.

The driver, who had the routine down now, handed Lori a champagne glass.

Miss Dean turned towards the door just as a black-haired girl with pale skin stepped out. “Olivia, you remember Amber.”

“Of course. Hey, Amber!” Olivia hugged her like they were long-lost sorority sisters.

I snapped a photo of the odd look on Amber’s face and recorded her name and description.

A brunette and a blonde joined the group. Miss Dean announced Dana and Heather as if they were being presented at their debutante ball. None of the women were inappropriately dressed. Though their hair colors represented most of the usual hues, the styles were similar—long and smooth. They looked like typical early-twenties college students and they all seemed vaguely uncomfortable. Santa gave them each a glass of champagne. I documented their names and basic descriptions.

“Aunt Dean,” said Olivia, “aren’t we missing someone?”

“Wendi and her beau have gone to Innsbruck for the holidays,” said Aunt Dean. “She wanted to see snow. Nathaniel spoils that girl rotten, I declare.”

“Well, then.” Olivia raised her glass. “I’m so happy y’all could come out with me today. This is going to be so much fun. Merry Christmas. Cheers!”

Everyone clinked glasses and drank. The blonde, Heather, smiled.

“Is everyone ready?” Olivia asked.

“What the hell is going on here?” Seth filled the doorway, his eyes beaming anger at Olivia. In a flannel shirt, jeans, and work boots, he looked the part of handyman.



 Lori cringed. Heather and Dana exchanged glances.

“Now, Seth,” said Aunt Dean. “I told you we were going out for some girl time.”

“I know what you told me,” he said.

“Don’t be rude.” Miss Dean lifted her chin and gave him an imperious look. “We’ll be back this evening. I’ll call if we’re delayed past dinner.”

Seth glared at Olivia. “You’re up to something.”

Olivia waved at him dismissively. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Seth. We’re going to get our nails done. Have a massage. Maybe do some shopping.”

“Well then, you’ll need someone to help with the packages. I’ll come along just in case,” said Seth.

Olivia did an amazing performance of a startled look. “No need for that. Our driver can handle it. I’m sure you could use some down time.”

“I don’t need you to tell me what I could use.” He headed towards the car.

“Seth Quinlan,” said Olivia. “You absolutely will not ruin our day out. I simply will not have it.”

“You don’t have a choice.” He stepped closer to her, got into her face.

She stared him down. “What is your problem?”

“You,” he said.

Miss Dean moved in and stood between them, forming a triangle. “Listen here. The two of you are family, this is Christmas, and we are making quite a scene. Everyone, get in the car this instant.” She turned and walked towards the limo.