Mecan had been as blessed but Darwin always envied that his brother had managed to settle down and find comfort and satisfaction so easily, building an ideal family unit. He’d wanted the same for himself and had just assumed it would come when he wanted it, but he was recognizing that he only wanted it because his brother had it and his mother wished it for him.
Dr. Sinclair’s booming voice interrupted his thoughts. “Darwin?”
Darwin shook his head, looking back up to meet the man’s intense stare. “Sorry. I don’t know. I’ve never thought about it before.”
“Maybe you should. You say you want to have children because that new life will embody the love you two feel for each other, but really, how much of that is just your ego talking?”
“But isn’t it a natural progression for couples to want children?”
“Not necessarily. It’s unquestioned cultural conditioning that says they should want children.”
“But it will also help us to cement our relationship.”
“If that’s the case then your relationship is already destined to fail. Any relationship too weak to survive the lack of kids probably won’t last long or prosper after they arrive.”
Darwin didn’t bother to respond, still staring at the man, his hands twisting idly in his lap.
The doctor cleared his throat as he rose from his seat. “One of your first steps is to rethink your mind-set. From an early age, we are all told that we’ll have children of our own someday. We accept it and just ask how many and when. But if the answer is never, then alternatives begin to have more meaning for us. Life is about choices and when we walk down one path we sometimes rule out another.”
“Do you have children, Dr. Sinclair?” Darwin asked.
The man nodded yes. “Two boys, both in college now.”
“Would you have regretted it if you hadn’t had them?”
“I would have regretted if I’d had them when I really didn’t want them.”
The two men stood staring at each other as the doctor continued speaking.
“Really evaluate why you feel the way you do, Darwin. Understand your rationale, then you’ll be able to make better decisions one way or the other.”
“Any other advice, Doc?”
The man smiled. “A wise man once said that having children will make you no more of a parent than having a piano makes you a pianist. Know without any doubts that you really want to be a good parent before you opt to have children.” The man looked down to the watch on his wrist. “Let’s talk again next week. Same time work for you?”
Darwin had gone into the studio early, a half mile of paperwork on top of his desk awaiting his attention. For the umpteenth time he’d picked up the telephone to call Bridget and for the umpteenth time he stopped himself, not having a clue what he needed or wanted to say. She hadn’t called him, either, so he imagined she was feeling as out of sorts as he was.
Boy, Darwin thought, love wasn’t supposed to be so difficult. So why was it he couldn’t get the darn thing right? He sighed.
The expression on Bridget’s face the last time he saw her was haunting him. Not even a blind man could miss the hurt in her eyes, the pain she’d tried to hide behind her beautiful smile. Not only had Darwin seen it, but he’d felt it also, the emotion drilling a hollow void straight through him. By the time he’d made his way to his own home, the emptiness had filled with a wealth of sadness and loss.
He twiddled an appointment card in his hand between his fingers. His meeting with the doctor had gone as well as could be expected. Their first meeting had been brief, just long enough for Darwin to realize that not only wasn’t it going to be easy for him, but that it was something he needed to do for himself.
His brother had been right about him needing to take inventory of his life, to finally settle down and actually take time with the many blessings that had been bestowed upon him. Darwin hadn’t realized just how hard he’d been running or what he’d been running from until Bridget had stopped him still in his tracks.
He was suddenly startled from his thoughts when Ella burst into his office, raging like a madwoman on a rampage. Darwin jumped in his seat, his reflections suddenly assaulted by a barrage of anger and hostility. Ella slammed the morning newspaper onto his desktop. An exceptional photo of himself stared back at him. The headline was bold and brief: Chef Cooks Tabloids In Court.
Darwin smiled warmly as he greeted her. “Good morning, Ella. How are you this morning?”
“What in hell do you think you’re doing? How can you sue over something so trivial?”
“It’s easy. The information they printed was totally false. They were given ample opportunity to retract it and they didn’t. Since it’s my name they disparaged, I have every right to seek legal recourse. I’m surprised you don’t support me.”
Ella glared. “Don’t you think you should have talked with me first? How do you think the studio is going to feel about this?”
“My attorney has had a number of conversations with the station’s legal department before we proceeded. They have no problems with the lawsuit.”
Ella’s face raged with ire, the wealth of it creasing lines across her forehead and tightening the muscles along her jawline until she looked as if her head might explode. “You went over my head. I can’t believe you’d do something so…so…” She stammered, too angry to find the words.
“So, what?” Darwin queried, his own tone even and controlled. “So unlike what you expected? Because you expected that I would just sit back and pretend absolutely nothing happened and what did happen wasn’t a big deal? And we both know what did happen was a very big deal totally manipulated by your good friend Ava St. John.”
Darwin came to his feet, moving to the other side of the desk to stand in front of her. “Ava St. John will pay for her lies and anyone who helped her will pay, as well. And I don’t particularly care, Ella, whether you have a problem with it or not, because we’re talking about my reputation here, not yours and not the studio’s.”
Ella bristled, her mouth opening then closing as she struggled to speak. Darwin’s eyes were locked tightly with hers, his gaze just as angry and bitter. Turning from him, Ella stormed toward the door.
Darwin called out to her. “Ella, I don’t think our working relationship is working for us anymore. My agent has asked the executives to assign me another producer and they’ve agreed. I felt it only right that I be the one to tell you first. I’m sure you’ll agree that this is best for both of us.”
Biting her tongue, Ella slammed the door behind her and stomped back down the hallway. The rest of Ella’s day was tense. Darwin had the full support of the station and nothing she could think to say or do could change their opinions. She’d left a dozen messages on Ava’s answering machine, but her sister was refusing to answer any of her calls. As Darwin finished taping the last of his shows for the week, every ounce of his magnanimous personality captivating his audience, she could only shake her head, glaring in his direction. None of it was supposed to have ended this way.
Two weeks, five counseling sessions and hours of introspection later and Darwin felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He took a quick taste of the cream sauce he was making, jotting down a note on the yellow-lined pad atop the counter. Sprinkling just a touch of salt into the mixture, he stirred it, then pushed it off to the side.
A whole chicken rested in a shallow pan in the refrigerator and Darwin moved it from the cooler to the counter where he was working. He stood staring at the raw meat briefly, mulling over his options. From the other end of the room, a low cough pulled at his attention, and he turned to face the young woman clearing her throat.
“Hi, Rhonda. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, Mr. Tolliver. I just came to see if I could be of any help.”
Darwin nodded. “Actually, I could use a hand. I’m trying something new and if you’d like to write down the ingredients and steps for me as I go along I’d appreciate it.”
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br /> The young woman hurried over excitedly. “Not a problem, sir.”
Darwin chuckled. “Do you like to cook, Rhonda?”
“I’m not very good but it’s fun to try.”
“Well, then, we need to get you in the kitchen more. I find it’s the most relaxing thing in the world to do.”
“Is that why you’ve been here more than in your office lately?”
Darwin cut an eye in her direction. “Has it been that obvious?”
“I just know you’ve been under some stress for a while now and lately, when you get here, the first place you come to is the kitchen.”
Darwin filled the empty cavity of the chicken with whole garlic cloves, sprigs of fresh parsley and an apple sliced in four quarters. Rhonda reached for the pen and pad and jotted it down, noting how he rubbed the meat with a tablespoon of olive oil before resting it back into the baking dish.
Darwin said, “Cooking helps me deal with the stress.”
The woman smiled. “So, what are we making?”
“It’s a simple roast chicken with a white sauce but I’m trying to infuse more flavor into the bird.”
“Are you planning to do this one for the show?”
“Actually, I’m thinking about writing a cookbook. What do you think?” he asked, looking up to meet her gaze.
‘Wow. I think that would be cool.”
“So do I. I think a Darwin Tolliver cookbook would probably do very well.”
There was a brief moment of silence as Darwin put the finishing touches on the dish and placed the pan into the oven. Rhonda followed his movements, noting all the details she thought would be important. As Darwin wiped his hands on a cotton dishcloth, she cleared her throat for a second time.
“Mr. Tolliver, this might not be any of my business, but…” she started, then paused, suddenly appearing nervous.
Darwin turned to stare at her. “Yes?”
“Well, lately, Ms. Scott has been acting very strange.”
Darwin rolled his eyes. “You mean stranger than normal?”
“I mean scary strange. I’ve seen her watching you a few times when she thought no one was looking and she looked really weird. And yesterday, I caught her stabbing a pile of your promotional photos with a pair of scissors. That was way scary.”
“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Darwin said dismissively. “She’s just angry that I won’t work with her anymore. It’ll pass.”
Rhonda’s head bobbed slowly against her thin neck. “I hope so. She makes me nervous. I don’t like her very much.”
Darwin grinned. “Rhonda, I don’t think she likes herself. But let’s not talk about Ella. Ever make risotto before?”
Bridget listened to the message Darwin left on her answering machine and smiled. She was amused that Ella was clearly chagrined by his actions and she found Darwin’s comments almost comical. The man was highly pleased that Ella and Ava would be getting their comeuppance.
Darwin had been giddy with excitement and absolutely oblivious to the fact that he hadn’t bothered to call her for almost three weeks. Or so she thought until she heard his second message and the grin across her face glowed like a full moon. He apologized for the distance, for taking so long to realize they could work things out if they truly loved each other. He told her he missed her, was thinking about her and had much he was anxious to share with her.
Maybe Jeneva had been right and all really wasn’t lost, Bridget thought. She was hopeful and she fully intended to hang on to every ounce of it.
The next message captured her full attention. She wasn’t surprised to hear from Joshua but she was shocked to learn he was representing Ava St. John. He was anxious to speak with her, advising they should be able to settle the complaint easily. He left his cell phone number and asked her to please call.
What Bridget found particularly annoying with his call was the total disregard he had for her. She had heard it in the inflection of his words. Joshua Bayer had always considered himself the better attorney but Bridget was about to prove him wrong.
She laughed out loud, moving from her office to the kitchen. Her man was going to be on television in ten minutes. He was making a meal of wild mushroom ravioli with eggplant and goat cheese, and red snapper à la Tolliver in thirty minutes. She’d downloaded the recipes from the station’s Web site and everything, except the onions she needed to chop, was ready for her to cook right along with him.
Joshua Bayer slammed the telephone down against the desk. Annoyance sat like bad foundation on his pale face. He pushed the button to the intercom and summoned his secretary.
“Yes, Mr. Bayer?” the young woman answered.
“Would you please bring me Ava St. John’s file, then get her on the line for me. I need to speak with her today.”
“Yes, sir.”
Joshua heaved a deep sigh. Ava’s problem wasn’t going to go away as quietly as he’d predicted. He and Bridget had only spoken briefly but she’d made it quite clear that her client wasn’t even remotely willing to let this go away quietly. Not only was he seeking damages, but he was also demanding a very public retraction of every statement and innuendo that had been made about him, as well as an apology from Ava, to run in every national publication and media outlet. That and a cash settlement of one million dollars would settle his claim and keep them out of court.
Joshua had thought he could convince Bridget to leave Ava out of it. She had the tabloids on the line and would probably settle her case for a sizeable sum. Both knew the tabloids carried significant media liability insurance for situations just like this one.
Bridget had been blunt about being able to prove her case. The info had been published and Ava had been directly identified as the source of that information. The remarks and comments could easily be construed as malicious in their intent and the media attention had exposed the man to public ridicule and contempt. The man’s integrity, virtue and reputation had been impeached and the truth was clearly on his side.
As well, the photographer had signed a statement that he’d been paid by Ava to be there at that precise moment and had been given direct instructions about what was going to happen and what he was expected to capture on film. Even the limo driver had admitted his culpability in the incident. Bridget had just enough evidence to prove her client had been set up and everything pointed to Ava having instigated the situation for her own personal gain, a media ploy to promote her book and further her career. Bridget fully intended to use what she had against Ava unless they could give her something else to work with.
Bridget hadn’t bothered to even blink at Joshua’s veiled attempts at intimidation and coercion, and his other persuasive efforts had been laughed at. She’d given him an ultimatum and a deadline within which to comply.
The buzzer hummed on the intercom. “Mr. Bayer? Ms. St. John is on line three.”
“Thank you.”
Joshua’s gaze moved to the view outside. The sky was dark, the residue from a morning rain hovering overhead. He pulled the telephone receiver back into his hand. “Ava, it’s me. I can’t fix this without giving them something to work with. We need to tell them about that crazy sister of yours.”
Chapter 16
Their second breakfast was decidedly better than their first. As Darwin approached the corner booth where she sat waiting for him, Bridget couldn’t help jumping to her feet and throwing herself into his arms. It was so out of character for her that even she was surprised by her own exuberance. Darwin laughed heartily as he swung her in a tight circle, pure joy washing over them both.
“Never again,” Darwin whispered into her ear as he gave her earlobe a gentle nibble.
She met his gaze as he eased her back to the floor, a questioning look on her face.
“Never again will anything come between us. Never again will I let my fear put any distance between us.” He clasped both his hands around her cheeks and lifted her lips to his, kissing her mouth as if he were kissing her for the very first time. He star
ed back into her eyes. “I love you, Bridget. I love you very much.”
Bridget kissed him again, savoring the soft curve of his mouth as it meshed so sweetly with her own. She hugged him tightly. “I love you, too,” she said, the beauty of it ringing around the restaurant’s dining room.
The small crowd gathered suddenly burst into cheers and applause and both looked around, embarrassed that they had been so oblivious to everyone else in the room. Darwin waved with one hand as he clutched her elbow with his other, guiding her back to their seats.
Their waitress, a buxom woman with an old-fashioned beehive hairdo, stood grinning at them, her order pad and ballpoint pen clutched between her thick fingers. “Congratulations,” she said cheerily, her booming voice boasting a Southern drawl. “Are you going to set a date?” she asked curiously.
“A date?” Bridget responded, her gaze moving from the woman to Darwin and back.
“For the wedding. You did say yes, didn’t you?”
Darwin laughed, nodding his head. “Oh, she definitely said yes,” he answered, his own grin as wide as an ocean.
Bridget could feel herself blushing, color rising from her chin to her brow. She nodded. “The man promised me forever. How could I say no?”
“Well, how about two glasses of our freshly squeezed orange juice to kick off your celebration?”
“And a cup of coffee, too, please,” Bridget said.
“Make that two cups,” Darwin added.
The older woman jotted quickly onto her notepad. “Coming right up,” she said as she headed for the kitchen.
Darwin reached out to clasp Bridget’s hands between his own. He leaned over the table and kissed the tips of her fingers. Bridget smiled at him, a twinge of nervous energy piercing her tummy.
“So, how are you?” she asked.
“Much better now,” Darwin said.
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