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Authors: Gwynne Forster

BOOK: Passion's Price
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“Mind if I ask where you’re resting?”

“I’m in my room. Where else would I be?”

“Don’t ask me. Sometimes you use sense and
sometimes you don’t. I hope you’re working on that relationship.”

“Of course I am, Maggie. Why do you think I came here?”

“You didn’t tell me, so I don’t know. You coming home tomorrow?”

“Yes. My flight leaves around noon.”

“Well, give him a hug for me.” She said she would and hung up. Hopefully Maggie wouldn’t get the wrong impression about her returning to Memphis the next weekend. She shrugged.
I can’t let what people think govern my behavior,
she thought.

Her cell phone rang. “Hello?”

“Does the most beautiful girl in the world know that it’s already six-thirty? It’s so quiet, not even the sound of the radio, that I feared you were asleep.”

“I’ve been wide-awake since you kissed me this morning. I’ll see you at the foyer in fifteen minutes.”

“Fourteen.”

“All right. Fourteen it is. Now hang up so I can finish dressing. Kisses.”

“Kisses to you, and from head to foot.”

She hung up, but she tingled all over. That was exactly how he’d kiss her, and she hoped he wouldn’t forget that when he brought her home.

She slipped on a yellow sleeveless silk dress that had a deep cowl neckline that made her breasts look ready to pop and had shirring from beneath them to the hem. She put on the short matching jacket, a pair of gold hoops, added a light coating of burnt orange lipstick,
dabbed perfume where it counted and arrived at the foyer seconds before Mike did.

“Who is this gorgeous female?” He opened his arms and she walked into them and relaxed, as if finding shelter from a storm. “You make a man proud,” he said as they got into his car. “I prefer the Peabody, but I thought we’d try McEwen’s tonight. It’s quiet and elegant, and the food is excellent.”

“I am in your capable hands. You won’t let us starve, because you subscribe to the theory that loving and starving don’t go together.”

“I also subscribe to the dictum that one does not say everything that one thinks.”

She couldn’t help laughing. “Mike, honey, if I did that, you’d have run the other way two hours after we met.”

His eyes widened. “Really? What were you thinking? We’re close, so you can tell me now.”

“Yeah. Right. Oh, what the heck! I wondered what you’d be like in bed. Did you wonder about me?”

“You bet your beautiful tush I did, although you made me so mad that it was at least three hours before I got around to that.” He parked at McEwen’s, got out and helped Darlene.

“This looks like a mansion,” she said, clearly awed.

The dim lights and flickering candles highlighted his features.

“In this light, you look like a dream. How is it that of all the men you’ve met, you love me? I can hardly
fathom it. You’re smart, accomplished, grounded and so beautiful. And you suit me in every way.”

“What a nice thing for you to say to me, Mike. When I muse over the things about you that draw me to you, I wonder how it is that some clever woman didn’t get you years ago. I don’t know why I love you, but I know why you’re so dear to me. I know you’re there for me, and that you will always be there so long as we’re together.”

He held her hand and gazed into her eyes as the flickering candles cast their silhouettes on the wall. “Do I have the music that makes you dance?”

She lowered her gaze, because she couldn’t handle the look that said I know you inside and out. “I gave you the answer to that question several times last night.”

“Yes, you did. And I’ll never get enough of it.”

“Me, neither. Never.”

Chapter 8

D
arlene walked into court that Monday morning, put her briefcase on the table assigned to her and walked over to the opposing attorney, a formidable, older man of considerable reputation, to introduce herself. She extended her hand. He glanced at her and continued examining his papers.

A smile played around Darlene’s lips, and she told herself not to laugh. “I’m delighted to meet you, D.A. Holmes. I’m Darlene Cunningham.” The man stared at her with an expression that said when did she get the temerity to speak to him. After a moment, he quickly stood up, evidently remembering his status, and shook her hand.

“How do you do, Ms. Cunningham?” He hesitated.
“You’re rather young for this case, aren’t you? It’ll be a rough one.”

Enjoying the fact that she’d rattled him, at least for the moment, she spoke up again. “Young in age, perhaps, but not in ability. I’m sure this trial will be a memorable one.”

Let him digest that!

Having drawn her sword, she went back to her table, satisfied that she had at least made the man cautious, hopefully sparing herself the spectacle of his courtroom antics and shenanigans. The morning went by quickly, and the judge recessed the trial until one-thirty.

After a lunch of two crab cakes and hot tea, she phoned Mike. “Hi, how’d the interrogation go this morning?”

“Useless, honey. Crawford could easily have done it. But he likes to think he’s so tough that suspects see him as an adversary and won’t talk to him.”

“Is he? Worse than you, I mean?”

“Mind your mouth, woman. He’s a pushover, and he knows it. You’re in court?”

“Yes. I think I have a decent jury, though I’ve learned that one shouldn’t count on that. Problem is that I’m facing one of the smartest corporate litigators in the whole of Frederick County.”

“If you’ve done your homework, you needn’t worry. Your client is innocent, his case is one that will inspire sympathy and you have good, credible witnesses.”

“I know, and I’m not worried… Well, only a little. Dueling with Frank Holmes is no joke.”

“It doesn’t matter who you’re up against.”

“Yeah, but I’m not afraid of him. We’ll see how it goes. My problem is having to wait until Friday to see you.”

“I’m dealing with that, too. What time will the judge recess court on Friday?”

“Usually the courthouse shuts down on Fridays at noon. It’s hard to believe that on one weekend, two short days, I got as accustomed to being with you as I did. Gotta finish my lunch and get back to court. Love ya.”

“And I love you. I’ll call you tonight.”

 

The wrangling in court hadn’t truly begun. Yet when she got home that night, she flopped down on the living-room sofa and spread her arms, exhausted. With everyone in the courtroom watching her every word and her adversary taking thorough notes, hours of courtroom drama had worn her out.

Maggie came into the living room with a cup of tea and handed it to Darlene. “What you doing in there? You all right?”

“Thanks. I’m more concerned with convincing the jury than I am about how tired I am.”

Darlene sipped tea and shrugged. “I wonder why I can’t seem to concentrate?”

“’Cause your head’s full of Mike. How is he?”

“Wonderful. I’m going to treat my muscles to a hot shower. I’ll be back down in about an hour.”

After the hot shower, she felt much better. “Hello,” she said, answering the phone in her room.

“Way to go, sis. I heard about your case this afternoon. Hearing about you, I asked myself what happened to my little sister. Apparently, you were really sharp in that courtroom.”

“Thanks, Clark. I’m glad you think so. I decided today that a prerequisite for becoming a litigator should be at least two semesters in acting.”

“That bad, huh? Things still working with Mike?”

“You could say that. I spoke with him this afternoon. What’s going on with Tyra? Anything?”

“She’s good. She takes to marriage and motherhood like a bird takes to the air. I’m happy for her. Andy practically worships her, and she adores him. When she married Byron, she made the right move, sis, and I hope you do as well.”

“What about you and Caroline?”

“You know I move slowly. When it comes to relationships, that’s the best policy.” They talked for a while, and then she went down the stairs to eat dinner. From the time she and Mike made love in her bed, being in that room made her feel close to him, but it could also make her feel lonely.

“Let’s rent a movie,” she suggested to Maggie. “I need a distraction.”

“You want to think about something other than your work, or other than Mike?’

“Other than work.”

“Then you don’t have to rent a movie. Phone him. He’ll keep your mind occupied.”

Darlene got up and turned on the television, not that she wanted to watch anything; she wanted to make the time pass. “I phoned him during my lunch hour. He said he’d call tonight, and he will.”

“Then read something. You’re giving my nerves a fit. Being in love never meant a woman had to go crazy.”

“Come on, Maggie. I remember when you got married. You drove us nearly insane. You burned the food, didn’t remember where you parked your car and forgot to buy groceries. You were a wreck. And on your wedding day, Clark practically led you to the altar, because you couldn’t see through the tears that washed your face and soaked that lovely gown.”

“Yes,” Maggie said with longing and sadness. “I loved the ground he walked on. He’s been gone twelve years, and for me, it’s just this morning.” She shook her head. “But I’d rather have had those years with him and the pain of his death than never to have had him. He was one awesome man.”

Maggie wiped a tear, and the phone rang. Darlene raced up the stairs to take the call in her room, the place where she felt close to him.

A glance at her caller ID, and her heart began to race. “Hi.”

“Hi, yourself. Have you been running?”

“I ran up the stairs because I didn’t want to talk with you in front of Maggie.”

“I don’t have anything new to say to you. I called
because I needed to connect with you, and this is the best I can do.”

“I know. I miss you, too.”

“I’ll be in Charlotte, North Carolina, tomorrow, but I’ll be back here tomorrow night. If you need me, dial my cell number. How did the trial go this afternoon?”

“The attorney hasn’t wrapped up its case yet, but they want to call a witness who is testifying for my client, and that tells me that their case is weaker than I thought.”

“Perhaps, but don’t be too confident.”

“I appreciate what you’re saying, and I know I have to guard against that. Justice isn’t always served well.”

“You’re right. I have to get up at five to make a seven-forty flight, so I’ll say good-night. I love you, sweetheart. Dream about me.”

“I love you, too, hon. I can’t promise to dream of you, because if I go to bed thinking about you, I may not get to sleep.” She made the sound of a kiss. “I can’t hang up until you do.”

“You don’t think I’m going to hang up on you, do you?” She heard the laughter in his voice, a sound like soft wind swirling in a deep valley.

“Okay. Let’s hang up on the count of five. One…”

She rolled over on the bed, hugging a pillow to her body. With the feel of her nipples tightening, she fell over on her belly and moaned softly. She wasn’t used to needing a man, and she wasn’t sure she liked it. Oh, why did love have to be so complicated? She got ready for bed, crawled in and prayed that she would sleep.
Her career could depend on this case, since the jury’s decision could affect workers throughout the country.

As she was leaving home for work the next morning, she met a delivery boy on the walk between the street and her house. “Does Darlene Cunningham live here?”

“I’m Darlene Cunningham.”

“Would you sign for this?” he asked as he handed her a basket of tea roses.

She opened the envelope. “Just a minute,” she said, remembering what Mike had warned her about before. She was not going to sign for something that she didn’t want.

“Have a wonderful day, darling. Love, Mike.” She signed for it, gave the boy a tip and went back inside, where she put the flowers on the dining-room table. He had a way of getting to her down deep where she lived. She loved flowers, and the tea roses’ dusty rose color had long been her favorite. Her steps quickened, and not even the darkening clouds could daunt her spirit or rob her of the joy she felt. Frank Holmes might be a lion of a prosecutor but she could hold her own, and she’d bet nobody had sent him a basket filled with several dozen flowers. She laughed aloud as she parked near the courthouse.

“It’s my day,” she said to herself. “I’ve got the world by the tail.”

Darlene questioned three witnesses that morning, and when the third one left the stand, she had to repress her relief and pleasure. Frank Holmes did not cross-examine
him, and a long look at the noted trial lawyer told her that he was not expecting to win the case.

At lunchtime, she went to a tiny café a couple of blocks from the courthouse, ordered a tuna-fish sandwich and coffee and studied her notes. Her afternoon witness could prove difficult. She got back to the court ten minutes before trial time and learned that the corporate defendants were anxious to settle out of court. She and the plaintiff agreed, but she reserved the right to disclose the terms of the settlement.

“That’s good enough,” Sam told her. “They were getting a lot of bad publicity that was ruining their image. We’ll see that this gets wide publicity. It’s good for the plaintiff, and great for Myrtle, Coppersmith and Cunningham.”

In her office that afternoon, Darlene called her older sister, Tyra, to let her know the outcome of the trial. “I hadn’t expected that it would go so well, though I expected to win,” she told Tyra.

“I caught part of it on the local news last night. Clark’s right. You’re really good. Little sis is a big girl now. Why don’t you come over and have supper with us this evening?”

“Good idea. I haven’t seen Andy for a while, and Maggie won’t have to cook. I’ll be there around six.”

 

As she sat down to supper with Tyra, Andy, Byron and Jonie, Byron’s aunt, the doorbell rang. Byron went to open the door and came back with Clark.

“Hi, everybody,” Clark said after hugging Darlene. “Sorry I’m late, but the traffic is a killer.”

“It’s all right, Uncle Clark,” Andy said. “We haven’t said grace yet. Uncle Clark, I’ve decided that everybody is going to call me Anthony. That’s really my name, and I’m too old to be called Andy.”

Clark took a seat at the table. “That’s right, son. When I’m around you, I forget how old a five-year-old really is.”

Darlene enjoyed being with her family, but she knew Mike would call her, and she didn’t want to be with them if he called her on her cell phone. “I hate to run,” she said at about eight-fifteen, “but I have to work tomorrow.”

“You did a great job on that case,” Byron said. “If you ever get tired of working for Myrtle and Coppersmith, you know where there’s an opening.”

“Thanks, Byron. I will seriously keep that in mind.” She kissed each of them and was soon on her way home.

When she tuned in the ten o’clock local news, it stunned her to see her face on the screen and to hear herself referred to as a champion of the working man. “Why?” Mike asked when she told him about it.

“You can’t imagine how proud I am of you. I’m going to have to do something about this calendar. There’re seven days in a week, but Friday takes seven times as long to arrive as the other days.”

“I’m counting the hours, Mike.”

“I’m counting the minutes, sweetheart. What time can you leave Baltimore? I’ll email you the ticket.”

“I can get there by twelve-thirty.”

“Good. I’ll order the ticket for a flight around two-thirty.”

“You don’t have to do that, Mike. I can—”

“I want to do it, Darlene. Indulge me, please.”

“Oh, all right. Kisses.”

“Open your mouth, baby, and take me in.”

“Are you a masochist? It’s bad enough that—”

“Let me in, sweetheart. I need to love you.”

“Yes. Oh, yes,” she whispered as her breath shortened almost to a pant and her blood raced wildly through her body and settled in her loins.

“There,” she said, panting. “You see what you’ve done?”

“I’m sorry, love. I know what it’s like, because I did the same thing to myself. Good night.”

“Good night.”

“My goodness,” Darlene said to herself after she hung up. “Neither Clark nor Tyra offered me any advice about Mike or anything else.” She snapped her fingers. “Way to go, lady!”

 

Mike looked at his watch for the umpteenth time, looked at the arrivals board in the Memphis International Airport and walked a few more paces. The plane was late, and he didn’t know whether it left Baltimore late or… He didn’t let himself contemplate the alternative. He didn’t drink when he had to drive, but
he was tempted to break his rule this time. Desperate for some news, he called his precinct and asked Cody if there was any news about airport delays.

“No, man. Nothing’s come in here. You expecting someone? Give me the flight number, and I’ll call BWI airport.” Mike gave it to him. “Okay. Hold on.”

Soaking wet from perspiration, Mike loosened his collar and waited for what seemed like an eternity. “If I ever see her again, she’s not—”

“The news is good, buddy,” Cody said. “Relax. The flight was delayed because of bad weather, including thunderstorms in the Baltimore-Washington area. Expect the plane to be forty-five minutes to an hour late.”

Mike let out a long breath of relief. “Thanks, Cody. I appreciate your help. This is… It’s a great relief.”

“No problem, man. Unless you have one of those airline apps, they don’t give you information. Fly on a plane and you give up your right to be treated as a human being. Take care.”

“Will do. Thanks again.”

He hung up, found a seat facing the arrivals board, sat down and closed his eyes. His body felt as if it had just taken a thorough beating. He told himself to be thankful that Cody hadn’t given him bad news, took deep breaths and calmed himself. One thing was certain if he hadn’t already known it: Darlene Cunningham was everything to him.

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