Self Service

Sweet Home Alabama

Scott helped Priscilla out of the jet and onto the runway, holding her by the fingers, watching her as she stepped down.

She had stopped by Phoebe's shop as requested to help her sister choose some new models and to have lunch. The next thing she knew, Scott was at her house telling her to come with him and they ended up in the airport. When he finally decided to tell her that his mother's event was not in Phoenix, but in Homewood. 

She could have strangled him. She started to tell him no, but he told her she promised to be his date. It was the only reason she followed him onto the jet. But she didn't go without complaint.

When they were off the jet, he took her hand in his, walking her towards the car, intertwining their fingers.

"I feel like I'm in a steam room," she complained, feeling sweat forming at her hairline.

"That is called humidity, honey. And you will survive it," he assured her.

Sighing, she let Scott remove their hands to place their bags in the trunk, shooing the chauffeur to open the door for Priscilla. She slid into the car, brushing her bang off her face. Scott got in beside her, his hand pushing away the sweaty tendrils of hair on her face. He moved closer to her.

"I know this chic little pastry shop you might enjoy," he told her, kissing the side of her neck.

"Is that so?" she laid her head on his shoulder.

He wrapped his arms around her waist, and she closed her eyes. "You'll like it. Cute place," he assured her.

Priscilla rested her head against Scott and dozed off. When she came to, his arms were around her waist, and he was kissing her neck. "Scilla," he said softly, nudging her. "Wake up. We're here."

Priscilla took a deep breath and got herself oriented before she sat up and followed him out of the car.

She looked down the mall at all the shops and inhaled the delicious scents coming from the restaurants. "Where is this?" she asked, resting her head in his arm, her arms wrapped around his bicep.

"This is SoHo."

She scrunched her face up and looked around. "This isn't New York."

He chuckled, rubbing her lower back. "South Homewood, Scilla."

"Seems kinda... Backwoods chic," she told him.

"Watch it, now. This is my hometown," he told her.

She smiled a little against his arm as he took her around to the back and knocked on the door. A woman in a poodle skirt and blouse came to the door with a smile on her lips and white gloves on her hands.

"Scott!" she shrieked and jumped into his arms.

Letting go of his fiancée, he put his arms around the other woman and lifted her off her feet. "Ardi!" He put the other woman down and held her at arm's length. "Look at you, old lady!"

"Speak for yourself, grandpa. I don't look a day over twenty-nine." Arden's gaze fell on the gorgeous and poised young woman at Scott's side.

Scott released the woman and put his arm back around Priscilla, bringing her closer. "Arden, this is my fiancée, Priscilla. — Scilla, this is my cousin, Arden and the owner of this backwoods chic bakery."

Priscilla extended her hand to the pretty woman, smiling at her, taking in her put together and retro look. How she managed to look so cool in the humidity, Priscilla didn't know. While she wasn't exactly a fan of the '50's attitudes towards women, Priscilla had to admit, the style was impeccable.