by Susan Sands
Ben came in at that moment. “What’s going on in here?”
“Oh, you’re in trouble, now,” Maureen said.
“Uh, nothing. Sabine was thanking us for this evening.”
Ben narrowed his eyes. “I do hope you ladies aren’t speaking out of turn about things best left unspoken.”
Cammie shot him a feigned look of pure innocence.
“Right.” But, as uncomfortable as the situation could have become, Ben obviously decided to let the matter drop without causing a scene. “Thanks for everything.” He waved a hand in the air.
Sabine chimed in. “Goodnight. Everything was delicious.”
He led her around to the passenger’s side and helped her into his four-wheel-drive truck. It wasn’t especially high like some of the red-neck mobiles Sabine had seen around town, but it had larger-than-normal tires, in her opinion. Of course, Ministry wasn’t a big city, and there were abundant rough terrain and unpaved roads to warrant the adjustment to an automobile. Who was she kidding? New Orleans was so full of potholes, an off-road vehicle was nearly required to navigate the streets, depending on which political district one was traveling through at the time.
Every district used its tax money how the elected official deemed. Instead of the state handling the road repair, the districts each took care of their little length of highways and roads. So, bizarrely, in the metro New Orleans area, Sabine could drive from one end of the parish to the other and encounter three different standards of road conditions.
Once they’d gotten onto the road, he asked, “So, how much did my sister tell you?”
“About what?” Sabine was pretty certain she knew to what he referred, but chose to let him reveal as much or as little about his past as he chose.
He barked a short laugh. “Nice therapist move. I’m talking about my ex-girlfriend, Lisa. I heard Cammie mention her name.”
“She said the name Lisa and inferred that you haven’t been involved emotionally with anyone since. At least I think that was what she meant. It was something to that effect.”
He nodded. “That’s about right. I’ve dated plenty, but haven’t really experienced a connection with a woman since Lisa.”
Sabine looked away, afraid he would read something into her expression. Judgment maybe? Or knowledge of the stories she’d been told by women. Just being with him made her a liar by default. She had to hold back the things she knew even though it was necessary.
“What?” he asked.
“Nothing. You know the two of us can never work, right?” Sabine asked.
“I didn’t propose for real, you know,” he said, jokingly.
“Yeah, I got that. But I mean it. There are things I know about you—or things I’ve been told that cloud my judgment toward you.” She could tell him certain things without being specific.
“What does that mean?”
“Women. They talk. A lot. To me. I can’t tell you who, or what they’ve said, but because I’m human, it affects my opinion.”
“That’s just fantastic.” He pulled into her driveway and came to an abrupt halt.
She turned to face him squarely. “I didn’t ask them about you. But it’s something I can’t ignore.”
“You know, Sabine, I can’t defend myself against the words of the women of Ministry, Alabama. Or your low opinion of me. Whatever they’ve said, you can believe parts of it. Their versions of it. It’s your choice which parts to believe. I know who I’ve been intimate with, and the circumstances. I’ve never behaved in an underhanded manner with a woman, or done anything reprehensible. I don’t lie or cheat. I’ve not been unkind to anyone. I have been forced to break it off when more was demanded than I was willing to give at the time, and because it wasn’t fair to lead someone on—”
“I—” He held up a hand when she tried to speak.
“Please let me finish,” he said. “Ask these women if I they’ve been wronged by me—besides the fact that I ended things when someone got too serious. I never even led anyone to believe I wanted long-term. Everyone in town knows about Lisa, and what happened. It’s like they’ve been in a competition to be the one to heal my heart.”
Sabine sighed. “I can’t discuss their end of it, but I’m sorry you were hurt. I know how that feels.”
Her stomach knotted up when he took her hand. “Sabine, despite what you’ve heard, I’m not a bad person. But you’re going to have to come to that conclusion on your own.”
“I don’t think you’re a bad person, or I wouldn’t have spent time with you.” She wrinkled her nose. “But all those women.”
He shrugged, his shoulders relaxing. “I assumed we’re going back a few years. Like from middle school? I can’t change the past, but it sounds like I’m on the receiving end of a situation where I can’t fairly defend myself.”
She laughed, despite the gravity of their discussion. “I believe that’s a pretty accurate statement.”
He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Well, I had a fun evening.” Then he whispered in her ear, “And I especially enjoyed your climbing on my lap.”
Every womanly part of her perked right back up in that instant. “Okay, well, gotta go now. Thanks for dinner.” She hopped out of his big truck like a scared bunny, not giving him time to get out and come around to her side.
She headed through the front door of her house and waved a quick goodbye before triple dead bolting the door at lightning speed. Sabine was leaning against the back of the door, her breath coming in quick gasps, as if she’d sprinted home from Evangeline House, instead of bounding inside from the truck.
“Darling, what is it? What’s wrong?” Her mother’s voice held alarm.
Sabine realized her mistake then. And laughed. “Oh. It’s nothing. I-I just got home from dinner and was locking up.”
Mom narrowed her eyes and took in her appearance.
Sabine realized that her cheeks must be flushed, and well, there was the heavy breathing. “Did that boy try something?”
“What? No. He didn’t try anything. Of course not.” She laughed, what to her own ears sounded like a nervous little thready laugh.
“So, tell me what’s got you all upset about?”
“I’m not—” Sabine realized her mother had her number. “Okay, fine. He kissed me. And I nearly came unglued.”
Her mother’s face split into a great, gleeful grin. “Well, now. It’s about time somebody unglued you.”
“I don’t think so. He’s not the one I want to do the ungluing, believe me.”
“Well, why in the world not? That young man is—is, well, he’s hot is what. If I was thirty or so years younger, he’d be my choice.” Mom wiggled her eyebrows.
Sabine couldn’t help but laugh. “Mom, you crack me up. Speaking of hot; have you heard from Norman?”
Her mother shook her finger at Sabine. “Sorry, young lady. I’m not quite ready to discuss Norman just yet. I’ll say that we are considering having dinner together, and that’s all.”
“Fair enough. I understand how hard it is to get out there again,” Sabine said.
“You really should do something about your situation. I mean, you can’t go on like this forever.”
“What do you suggest? My hands are tied until Richard agrees to a divorce.” Her marital status wasn’t something Sabine discussed.
In fact, her mother and father were the only living souls in Alabama who knew she was married. Unless her bastard half-brother was still in the state. He knew. And he’d get a kick out of telling everyone she knew if her father allowed it. Her sister knew. The state of Louisiana knew. But she’d changed her name, so nobody here had a clue she was the state senator’s estranged wife. In fact, she was fortunate no one had made the connection yet, especially Ben.
She’d changed her hair. It had made a huge difference in her appearance. But really, Sabine was living on borrowed time, waiting for the other shoe to drop. She and Richard had come to a tenuous agreement. But Richard’s patience wouldn’t last.
&nb
sp; “He can’t hold you prisoner, Sabine.” Her mother’s voice was hard now.
“Can’t he? How long did Daddy hold you prisoner? How many years did it take to escape him? I’m just thankful not to live with him anymore.”
Her mother’s eyes teared. “That’s all true. And I thank God every day that I’m free. Even if I’m hiding out in Alabama to stay that way.”
Sabine hugged her mother. “We’re going to figure a way out of this for good. Don’t worry. We know too much for them to try and force us to do anything. It’s not worth it to them to rock the boat right now with Dad’s parole hearing coming up.”
Sabine could have smacked herself for the slip-up. Mom didn’t know about the hearing.
“When?” Her mother had gone completely still.
“Soon. He wants me to come to the prison for a visit.”
“Do you really think he’ll get out the first go-round?” Mom asked.
“I don’t know. We’re fortunate he’s incarcerated, for now, here in Alabama. It cuts down on the likelihood of any of his political connections being an issue.” It was very likely her father would be released on parole.
His were insidious, but not violent, crimes. He was transferred to the minimum security federal “camp” in Alabama for that reason. Plus, he was an influential, high-profile political figure.
“I don’t think his being in Alabama will help one bit. Don’t underestimate the reach of your father’s political arm. He has connections everywhere.” Her mother whispered the last word for effect.
“I know he does, but he’s out of the loop now. He got caught and convicted. Those connections likely don’t want to associate with that kind of failure.”
Her mother’s mood visibly brightened at that idea, and she nodded. “That could be somewhat true. Nobody likes a loser.”
“Mom, you deserve happiness more than anyone I know. You’ve already paid your life’s penance up front and in-full, or there’s something really wrong with karma. You should be free and clear from here on out.”
“You’re running a close second, my dear. I’m looking forward to a day when the two of us can pursue our own permanent happiness without the past shadowing our steps wherever we go.”
“But, let’s make an agreement to live our lives as fully as possible in the meantime, okay?” Sabine wanted that for her mom more than anything.
“Okay, therapist lady. I will, if you will.” Her mom hugged her tight.
Sabine stood from where they were sitting on the sofa and stretched. “I’m heading to bed. I have an early patient in the morning.”
“I’ll double check that everything is locked up tight.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
Chapter Six
“There’s the man of the hour.” Jeff slithered up next to Ben and slapped him on the back, a wide, fake grin on his face.
The half dozen or so employees who’d come in early applauded. What the hell was going on?
“Look at his face. He hasn’t seen it yet.” Jeff grabbed a copy of the local newspaper and held it up in front of Ben’s face.
Local Attorney, Ben Laroux, Named to Governor’s Special Task Force.
“You sly dog. Way to work yourself into Gumby’s good graces with that legislation.” If Jeff’s envy were any more obvious, he’d be physically turning a bright shade of green any moment.
“Thanks.” Ben addressed the expectant group of coworkers surrounding them. “I didn’t want to mention it until everything was official.”
George, one of the senior partners, moved forward to shake Ben’s hand. “We’re proud of you, son. Your appointment reflects well on the firm. Puts us on the map. We might be in a small town, but our reputation precedes us when our people make themselves known in state politics. Well done.”
“Yeah. Well done.” Jeff sneered as George walked away.
Ben had meant to address Jeff’s disrespect for a while now. It was directed at Ben only, for some unknown reason. And it seemed that no one else noticed or paid attention. “Hey, Jeff, could you step into my office for a moment, please?”
“Now, how could I refuse?” Jeff simpered.
Ben motioned for Jeff to take a seat once they were inside Ben’s office.
“So, Jeff, I’m not sure where your attitude is coming from where I’m concerned. I’ve ignored it so far, but it seems you’re working to get it noticed.”
Jeff smirked. “Who, me? I’m just the nephew of the senior partner.”
“And you think that makes it appropriate for you to act like an asshole toward me?”
“I think it makes you unable to do dick about it.”
Ben didn’t know what this stemmed from. “What the hell is your problem with me?”
Jeff’s expression was filled with unadulterated hate. “I’m engaged to Hailey Choate.”
Ben frowned at the name, trying to make a connection. Just as the mental picture of a lovely blonde entered Ben’s mind, Jeff launched himself out of his chair and across Ben’s desk. The punch was intended to land squarely across Ben’s nose, but Ben moved more quickly than Jeff anticipated and only caught a glancing blow to the jaw. Jeff lost his balance, and his momentum carried him over and into a heap on the other side of the desk.
The commotion couldn’t have been a quiet one, because several coworkers came rushing in.
“Ben—what the hell?” George demanded. From his vantage point, Ben could only imagine how the scene must appear.
“He threw a punch, and I tried to avoid it.” Ben rubbed his jaw.
Jeff was untangling himself from his position on the floor amidst the items on and behind Ben’s desk, including the shredder, printer, and the pen set he’d gotten as a gift last Christmas from his assistant.
“You son-of-a-bitch. You don’t even remember Hailey. What kind of bastard are you?” Jeff was poised to throw another punch.
By then, everyone was staring through his office door. Hailey. Of course he remembered. They’d gone out two or three times. But he’d called her by the nickname of Hales. Dinner, dancing, and yes, they’d slept together. It had been casual and fun. Two adults doing adult things with full consent. Ben didn’t remember her being the clingy type or even asking for more than a lighthearted dating relationship. In fact, he couldn’t exactly remember how they’d left off. They’d gone out not terribly long after he and Lisa had broken up. Oh.
“You used her. I’ll bet you have no idea what happened to her after you threw her away, do you?”
Ben was stunned. “What are you talking about? I didn’t throw anyone away.”
“She was pregnant. With your baby.”
Ben sat down in his office chair, because his legs threatened to collapse. Pregnant?
“What the hell are you talking about, Jeff?”
“Oh, don’t worry; she miscarried. No responsibility on your end. But now she carries the baggage of losing your baby around in our relationship. So, you wonder why I don’t like you? Now you know.” Jeff kicked Ben’s trash can out of the way and stormed out of the office, his peers parting like the Red Sea.
Ben stared at them, and they stared back. In his almost thirty years, he’d never been at such a complete loss for words.
Greg announced, “Okay, people. Show’s over. This is personal business.” Then he cleared his throat loudly, held up his hand, and everyone stilled. “I expect that none of this will leave the office. Your contracts include an airtight confidentiality clause that encompasses all office happenings. This incident applies. If I get wind of a gossip leak from within, you’re out.”
He shut the door and stayed inside. “I’m assuming you knew nothing about this.”
Ben, still stunned, shook his head. “Nothing.”
“Well, there’s obviously no legal issue here. But you and Jeff need to figure out some kind of working relationship moving forward.”
“George, I’ve dated women, but I’m always careful. I can’t even imagine how this happened. And she and I were in a cas
ual relationship, so I would have been extra cautious.”
“Son, birth control fails, no matter how careful we are. Ask my wife. Condoms break and pills are forgotten, or they fail. Nothing is a hundred percent. You’re fifty percent of the process, so you can’t ever blame the other person, no matter what they tell you. Always hold up your half of the bargain.”
“I always have. That’s why I don’t understand this.”
“Maybe you should consider only having sex with someone you don’t mind having a baby with from now on. It might keep you on the right track, and it would certainly prevent any further liabilities such as this—emotional or litigious.”
Ben might as well have been a horny fourteen-year-old boy, sitting in front of his dad, squirming through his first lecture on how not behave with young ladies, such was his humiliation. George was the grandfather of six, so Ben judged him to be in his mid-to-late fifties. George Bach had served as mentor and friend since he’d come to work at Babin, Bach, & Smith, now Babin, Bach, Smith & Laroux.
“It was a long time ago—several years. Just after my breakup with a long-term girlfriend. I’ve since been far more discerning with regards to my behavior with women,” Ben said.
And he had been. His limiting the number of dates with the same person had mostly been about taking the third date decision to have sex out of the equation. In his experience, women were often willing to go the next level by the third date, mostly because they believed there was a chance of a developing relationship.
“I’m just saying that it might be time to start looking at dating as a more permanent situation instead of a good time and quick fix. Every time I see you out in public, you’ve got a different woman on your arm.”
Ben flushed. “I don’t sleep with every woman I escort to a party, George. And I don’t date the same woman more than twice, as a rule. They don’t have expectations that way. It isn’t fair to lead anyone on.”
George grimaced. “Son, that’s cold. But, I get it; you’re not interested in getting serious. Somebody must’ve hurt you pretty badly along the way.”
Ben didn’t like this sharing. “I don’t discuss my personal life if I can help it.”