Giant Men and Violent Women

Surprise, Surprise

PRESLEY ANN

Imagine my surprise when Jewels and I walk into Lover's Rock to meet Swanee, and there she is, sitting with Ashley and Charlotte.

Ashley's wearing a different look on his face now. A smirk. And he's looking at Jewels. He has something up his sleeve. This look of satisfaction is too great for him to simply be happy. Happy people don't smirk; they smile. Smirking people aren't happy; they're satisfied. But from what?

I squint my eyes at him, once again attempting to channel into his brain. What in the hell does he have on Jewels? Ashley then shifts his eyes to look directly at me. It's a look that I've never gotten from him. Usually, a look from Ashley is lively, heartbreaking, teasing. Ashley Bragg would easily win the Mr. Congeniality award—or should I say, could have easily won it. This new Ashley is nothing remotely like the man who stood behind Minnie as we were in front of the town hall and playfully mocked her behind her back. This Ashley looks brutal. This Ashley is not merely a product of The Judge's murder. This Ashley is a man on a quest. But on a mission for what?

I try my best to dig into the grooves of his mind, but I come up empty. I just can't figure him out. Yet, in Ashley's defense, sitting next to him is Louisiana's sister, Charlotte, so perhaps he was meeting her here already, and then Swanee showed up. Or maybe he was meeting Louisiana here.

Either way, Swanee and I have to find a new meeting place. One that Ashley and his soon-to-be bride don't frequent between bouts of their apparent on-again, off-again love affair. A relationship that includes the seduction and eventual dismissal of innocent people. I hope Louisiana's gentleman caller realizes that. I can only imagine what The Widow's marriage was like to Governor Wheat. So much hate and yet so much hunger. She is likely crushed over his death. She will never find someone again who arouses so much rage and aching in her. She never wanted their violent love to be over, no matter what they both did to each other. Once again, welcome to New Hampshire.

"Ah, look who it is," Jewels whispers to me through a broad smile as we walk to the table.

He, like most politicians, could moonlight as a ventriloquist as he lets words seep through lips that don't move. He is the consummate professional, and in no way does he look ruffled by Ashley's dark and looming presence or the dreadlocked band singing reggae-folk onstage.

"Look who I ran into!" Swanee screams out as Jewels and I approach. Her eyes tell me that she's not as excited as she sounds.

"I see," I say back to her while giving a wave to Charlotte, who is a new addition to my society.

She was demoted in rank once she decided that she had fallen out of love with Mercer and in love with a guy from my society, which is the equivalent of a princess choosing a knight over a prince. A knight might not be a beggar or a commoner by any means, and he might be rich from battle, but he is not royalty. Charlotte's father—once the head of New Hampshire's senate, who elevated to the title of Governor once someone took Governor Wheat's life—reluctantly cast off his daughter at the insistence of her mother, the evil queen. Yet Charlotte has never looked happier as she sat at one of our Christmas parties, eating cream cheese on her Ritz crackers and washing it down with Moët, with the rest of us.

"Hey, Presley Ann," Charlotte says with a genuine smile.

"I'd like you all to meet Jewels," I say to the table as he and I stand before it.

"I remember you two talking at the Christmas party," Swanee says as her hand reaches out for Jewels to shake.

Jewels enthusiastically shakes her hand, giving her a sincere smile.