Night Magic (10 page)

"Bye, girls. Be good and try not to drive
your momma too crazy." Savannah helped Charice get the two girls
into their jackets.

"Too late, honey. Bye now. Come on here. No,
I don't want to hear what she called you. Lord, give me
strength."

As Charice herded her still bickering
children to her car, Paul pulled up. They exchanged brief
greetings, the girls thrilled at the fuss he made over their
matching jackets. Savannah stood in the door waiting. Charice gave
her a thumbs up sign as Paul turned to walk away from them.

"Hi. Can I come in?" Paul didn't advance past
the top step.

"Sure." She opened the door wide.

"How have you been? Wait a minute; I don't
want to make stupid small talk." Paul had hardly made it into the
living room when he turned to her. His face mirrored his torment as
he took a deep breath. His voice raspy with emotion. "I've missed
you, a lot."

"After my big talk about rushing things,
maybe I'm the one who’s been traveling too fast." Savannah took a
step closer to him. Seeing his eyes bright with pain only increased
the clenching urge to rush into his arms. She gave in when he
opened them to her.

"No, I was too touchy. It's just not easy for
me to open up." Paul put his arms around her. "Old habits die
hard."

"I've been a little defensive, too. Tell you
what; let's just take it as it comes." She murmured softly, weak
with relief to have him with her. Savannah couldn't even remember
what her reservations had been, not with him this close. She helped
him out of his coat. "Come into the kitchen for some cafe au lait,
my specialty."

"My partner Sam came by this morning to
discuss some other jobs we have. He found out from some contacts
that Batton Chemical will get to keep the permit." When she turned
from the stove, Paul watched her face intently.

"I should have known. Trosclair has lots of
low friends in high places."

"Well, there’s nothing that rules out that
site for development."

"But that's just it. Why that site? Why not
thirty miles south, why not the other side of the river? I'll tell
you why, Trosclair wouldn't dare contaminate the estates of his
rich pals, or his own for that matter. But poppy is right, look at
the toxic waste sites along the river for sixty miles. Almost all
are located in poor minority communities."

"All that land is accessible to the river,
which makes it desirable." Paul took a deep breath. "That is a
powerful argument in their favor. That and the jobs the plant will
bring. Economic impact is a big consideration, especially in a
parish with ten percent unemployment."

"It's past time for me to get back into being
an attorney. First thing in the morning I am going to start doing
some research."

"Hold on, working at the shop and being a
lawyer. When will I ever get to see you?"

"Oh don't worry; I'll be sure to pencil you
into my schedule."

"Thank you so much. Let's go over to my house
to finish those old movies." He kissed her neck.

"Can't, promised Tante Marie we would visit
my cousins in Scott tonight." She snuggled closer. "Of course, it's
not like they won't be there another time."

"Hey, now," Tante Marie called from the
living room.

"Evening, ma'am." Paul jumped back, grabbing
a napkin, he hastily wiped his lips.

"You cut your mouth, son? Heh, heh. Didn't
move fast 'nough, cher. And yeah you gone visit your Tante Rita
tonight. She done asked me three times when you gone come see her.
Might as well it over with. You know how she gets. Now get ready.
Bye, Paul. Nice seein' ya." She flounced out without waiting for an
answer.

With a shrug, she blew him a kiss before
seeing him off.

*****

"Knock, Knock."

"Who's there?" Paul played along.

"Didn't get to," Savannah sang out.

"Didn't get to what?" Paul's silhouette
towered over her, his broad chest rose and fell rapidly beneath the
tank undershirt.

"Didn't get to finish making up." Savannah
climbed the steps slowly to him. Boldly, she placed her hands on
his narrow waist. With one hand he closed the door behind her; with
the other he drew her further into the room."Paul, I--"

"No, every time we talk at a time like this
we end up arguing. Not this time, baby, not this time." He covered
her mouth with his.

Savannah wrapped herself around him. All her
doubts and suspicions seemed groundless in the face of his sweet
attack on her senses. Feeling his tongue gently exploring, she gave
up to him completely opening her lips wider. His fingers gently
raked her hair, then traced down her back in ever widening circles
until they rested on her hips.

"Wait, didn't we just talk about moving too
fast?" Gently she extricated herself from his embrace.

"I want you." He sat close to her without
touching. Waves of desire made his voice unsteady. His body ached
to press tightly to hers. Though it was excruciating not to clutch
her, he sensed Savannah's need to wait.

"It's just, not yet. Let's take our time."
Savannah sighed shakily.

"Listen, I won't tell you that I'm a virgin.
But I have been careful in selecting my partners, and I used
condoms,” Paul said.

"I've been careful, too. It's not that,
though that is important. I just think we should spend more time
getting close emotionally."

"I'm not him, Savannah." Paul spoke in a
gentle voice.

"Being with you is what I want, but..."
Savannah's voice broke as a tear escaped and rolled down her
cheek.

"I want to be with you, Savannah. Sexual
attraction is only part of what I feel for you, not even the
biggest part." He held her close, his hands locked at her
waist.

"Two hurts back to back would be too much."
Savannah's eyes brimmed with tears. Fighting not to cry, she stared
at her hands folded in her lap. "Before giving myself to anyone, I
want to be sure I really know who he is. Not who I want him to be.
Can you understand?"

"Yes, baby. Let's start right now," Paul
said, his lips close to her ear.

They talked for hours about family, high
school, his work. Finally, she told him why she had returned to
Beau Chene.

"I trusted Devin. I mean, when I came on
board he took me under his wing. He pretended to anyway."

"Are you sure he's not still important to
you?" Paul pulled back and searched her face.

"Positive." She kissed long and hard.

"I'm sorry about what happened in Shreveport,
but I'm glad you came back when you did." Paul breathed in the
smell of her hair.

"I'd better get going," Savannah spoke
faintly against his chest. Despite her words, she shut her eyes and
snuggled closer.

"Stay a little while longer, babe," he spoke
into her hair.

"My God, it's three o'clock. No telling what
Tante Marie or Poppy think." Savannah giggled, as she slipped her
shoes on and straightened her sweater. Giving him one last hug, she
started to go.

"They think what I think, that you're a
fabulous lady with respect for herself."

Chapter 5

The house looked exactly as Paul had
imagined, large and elegant. It not only spoke of money, lots of
it, but of old money. Set back from the highway at the end of a
long, winding drive, a large veranda on both floors stretched the
length of the house. Huge white columns, four in fact, were equally
spaced along the front. Without a trace of envy, Paul admired the
beautiful oak and magnolia trees flanking the drive. They spread
out over the acres surrounding the Trosclair big house. As he
parked his Jeep, Paul wondered not for the first time the purpose
of his being summoned here. He could not help but think of Savannah
and what she would make of this visit. As much as he hated keeping
secrets from her, he had more than just himself to consider.
Catching himself straightening his collar for the third time, he
felt foolish. Resisting the impulse to check his appearance in the
rear view mirror once more, he mounted the wide steps to the
door.

"My Lord," The stout black woman who opened
half of the double front doors stood for a moment, her eyes wide.
"I mean, uh, how do, suh." She stepped back and motioned him to
come in.

"I'm here to see Mr. Trosclair." Paul
fidgeted under her stare. "Something wrong, ma'am?"

"Humm, oh no child. Just gettin' to be old
and slow. I'm Louise. Come on in here. Mr. Claude's in the
library." She grabbed his arm, then seemed to think better of it
and let go. "Right in here." Smiling, she looked at him from head
to toe.

Paul would have continued puzzling over her
strange reaction to him had not the room he had been ushered into
overwhelmed him. He gazed at the floor to ceiling bookcases lined
with both leather bound classics and contemporary works. His eyes
traveled from the ceiling to the beautiful Persian carpet that
covered most of the floor. Spaced about the room were leather arm
chairs, tapestry settees. Arranged around the fireplace were three
large antique sofa upholstered in different patterns but with the
same emerald greens, ruby reds, warm beiges, and muted yellows of
the carpet and other pieces in the room. Fine art work, including
Audubon prints, hung along the walls. The late afternoon sunlight
shone brightly through the full length windows framed by rich dark
green draperies held back with ornate sashes.

"Glad you could come young man." Standing
near a large mantel, Claude had allowed Paul time to take in the
room. "Here, have a seat."

"Thank you, yes." Paul recovered enough to
realize he was still stood in the door.

"I'm gonna be right back with y'all some
coffee," Louise said.Paul started at the voice that came over his
shoulder. Turning around, he was again favored with a wide
affectionate smile. Nodding encouragingly for him to make himself
at home, she then bustled off humming a tune.

"Thank you, Louise. Been working for us for
over forty years now. She was only fifteen when she started taking
care of us. You haven't lived until you've tasted her pecan pie.
Just like a member of the family."

"Oh really?" Paul wondered how Louise felt
about that.

"Your family live near here, Mr. Honorè?"
Claude sat opposite Paul.

"In Crowley." Paul had prepared himself for
this kind if question. Watching Claude's expression, he was
reassured that this was only polite conversation. "My mother and
father live there."

"Nice little town. Ah, here we go. Louise is
just as famous for making a wonderful cup of coffee. Umm, perfect
as usual." Claude savored the first sip.

"Claude, there is a strange vehicle in our
driveway. Oh, hello." Mrs. Trosclair came into the room looking
over her shoulder, but upon turning to find a stranger in her home
stopped abruptly. She wore a dark blue dress, a lacy shawl draped
around her shoulders. The tiny pear-shaped pearl earrings she wore
accented her delicate features. Her dark hair mixed with grey, was
done in a single French braid and pinned back. She was not a
beauty, but she was a handsome woman who appeared to be at least
ten years younger than her husband.

"Mr. Honorè, this is my wife.""Pleased to
meet you, ma'am." Paul rose to greet her.

"Mr. Honorè is here on business, dear,"
Claude said.

"Really? I so seldom get to meet my husband's
business associates. What business are you in, Mr. Honorè?" Mrs.
Trosclair motioned for Paul to sit down. With practiced grace, she
sank down onto a settee careful to arrange her skirt. All done with
the fluid motions of a southern belle veteran of countless teas and
Junior League meetings.

"I’m an environmental engineer."

"My, that sounds very interesting. Are you
from Beau Chene?" Mrs. Trosclair inquired; her delicate voice had
the silky southern drawl so common to female members of the old
families.

"No, ma'am, Crowley. I'm just in town to
complete a survey on the Big River Plant your husband's corporation
is operating."

"My, my, Claude and Kyle sure stirred up some
folks with that one. Is true that those materials they handle there
are dangerous? Why I heard on the news the other

day--"

"Annadine, we have important matters to take
care of now. Will you excuse us?" Claude gave her a chilly smile,
and then glanced away at some distant object.

"Why of course. Yes, you go right ahead. Yes.
I'm sorry, Claude." Annadine stood wringing her hands in quick
jerky movements. She wore an anxious frown.

"Go on now." Claude got up and guided her out
of the room. "I'm sure you're wondering why I asked you to meet me
without Singleton or Quentin."

"Yes, I am frankly." Paul said.

"The work you did was excellent. You didn't
take sides. Your report is thorough and objective. Very
impressive."

"Thank you."

"From my sources in Baton Rouge, I think it's
fair to say that the plant will be built. And when it is completed,
Batton Chemical will continue to need your expertise. In fact, we
have several sites around the state and in Texas that would benefit
from an analysis of their procedures in protecting the environment
surrounding them." Claude paused to take another sip from his
cup.

"I don't know what to say, it's quite a
compliment. But there are larger operations than ours with a track
record of handling big corporate clients. Why me?

"Big isn't necessarily better, and I like
your work. My family has lived in this area for over two hundred
years. We have always tried to help this community and people
working for us. We look after our own. Besides, I think knowing
that you will be working with us to monitor the plant's operations
will do much to reassure those with concerns."

"Is that so?" Paul put down his cup.