The Way You Love Me. Donna Hill

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The Way You Love Me - Donna Hill The Lawsons of Louisiana

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      Bailey chopped a bushel of collard greens while Addison seasoned a tub of crawfish. Addison had a bachelor party that she was catering for on the weekend, and there was still fish to fry and sticky rice to make.

      “So, he was cute, huh?” Addison asked.

      “More than cute.”

      “Did you give him your number?”

      “Of course not.” She paused. “He didn’t ask, but he did say he wanted to see me again.”

      “That’s a start. What does he do?”

      “Lawyer.”

      “Jackpot!”

      Bailey laughed. “You would say that.”

      “Well, it’s true, but what’s more important is that you actually took an interest in somebody.” She glanced at Bailey from the corner of her eye. “It’s been a long time since Adam. All you do is work and take care of your selfish family. When is it going to be your time?”

      “Addy, don’t start.”

      Addison stopped with her seasoning and propped her hand on her hip. “You know it’s true, B. Your sisters drain the life out of you. You have bills up the you know what and no daylight in sight. You need someone—for you. Maybe this guy is it.”

      “I’m not looking for some man to take care of me, Addy. I won’t be my mother.” Her features tightened.

      Addison flinched. Men. Money. Mom. The three Ms that remained a bone of contention for Bailey, and no amount of prodding or coaxing had changed any of it. She pushed out a breath of apology. “Sorry. I don’t mean to... I just know how hard things can be for you. How hard they are.” She reached out and touched Bailey’s arm. “I’m your girl, Bailey. I only want you to be happy. That’s all.”

      Bailey lowered her gaze. “I know,” she murmured. She slowly shook her head. “Did I tell you that Tory called?”

      “How much did she want this time?”

      “Twelve hundred.”

      “What! Bailey...”

      Bailey held up her hand. “Don’t say it, okay? I know.”

      “Tory has got to stand on her own two feet, and she never will if you keep bailing her out.”

      Bailey spun toward Addison. “She’s my sister. I can’t just...” She covered her face with her hands.

      Addison came to her side and put her arm around her shoulder. “Sweetie, when it’s not Tory it’s Apryl with her man-crazy self. You can’t continue to carry them on your shoulders. They’re living their lives. When are you going to live yours? What about going back to law school? How are you going to manage that if you keep...” She blew out a breath of utter frustration.

      “I made a promise to myself when my mother died. I promised that I would look after my sisters.”

      “And that’s what you’ve been doing. You put your entire life on hold, dropped out of school, worked like a field hand to take care of them and pick up their broken pieces over and over. It’s your time, damn it!” She slapped down the towel on the counter.

      “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” She focused on the sink full of greens, wishing that it would turn into dollars and make all her troubles go away. But money wasn’t the answer. Her mother was proof of that. But what Addison said was true. She knew that, as well. She did want someone in her life, someone to take care of her for a change, make her feel wanted, needed and loved. If she was waiting on that from her family, she knew she’d be waiting a very long time.

      “What’s next?” Bailey asked, shaking the water off the greens and putting them in a giant pot of seasoned steaming water.

      Addison looked at her friend and saw the resolute expression in the tight line of her mouth and knew that the subject of Bailey and her family drama was closed.

      “The fish needs to be dredged in the seasoning.”

      “Got it.”

      They worked in silence for a while; the only sound was the boiling water and busy hands.

      “I hope he comes back again,” Bailey said in a near whisper. She slid a glance in Addison’s direction.

      Addison grinned. “She lives!”

      * * *

      Every night for the next two weeks Bailey went to work with the hopes of seeing Justin again. Each night ended in disappointment.

      He wasn’t coming back. He talked a good game and that was it. What would a high-priced lawyer want with a bartender/would-be law student? This was why she didn’t get involved, didn’t hope for anything more than light conversation to pass the time. If you didn’t expect anything, you couldn’t be fooled or disappointed. But he’d seemed genuinely interested in her. It was probably her own need that she thought she saw reflected in him. Nothing more. He was no different from Adam. She pressed her hand to her stomach. No different.

      * * *

      “Hey, Bailey, it’s Addy.”

      Bailey smiled. “Like you really have to tell me who you are. How long have we known each other—third grade?” She curved her body into the contours of her armchair and draped her leg across the arm.

      “Must I remind you not to remind me how long we’ve known each other? It’s much too long, and we couldn’t possibly be as old as that third grade friendship would make us.”

      Bailey snickered. “Whatever, girl.” She rested the novel that she’d been reading on her lap, and actually turned it facedown as if Addison could see that she was reading the steamy scene of a romance novel. “Whats up?”

      “I’m in a jam.”

      Bailey shifted her position. Her senses went on alert. Addison was the most together person she knew. If Addy was in a jam, what hope did she have? “A jam. What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

      “Yes. I’m fine. Relax. I’m in a jam because I have a mega big party to cater this weekend, and I’m short staffed. One of my bartenders has the flu, and a hostess is preggers. So I’m crossing my eyes, my fingers and toes that you’re free this weekend to help out. Pretty please.”

      “Addy, you don’t have to ask twice. As strapped as I am for cash—I’ll be there. What day, time and where?”

      “Saturday night. I need you at least by seven. Can you swing that with Vince?”

      “I’ll make it work. I’ll do the early shift. Where is this shindig?”

      “At the Lawson mansion. They are throwing an 85th birthday party for the family patriarch. The guest list is loaded with Louisiana’s who’s who, athletes,

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