Aefle & Giesla

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Aefle & Giesla Page 8

by Libby Malin


  “I thought I saw you in town,” Buck continued. No smile played at his lips. “Which is why I was trying to reach my lawyer.”

  Thomas forced a laugh to go with his forced smile. “What, a man can’t visit his hometown anymore without the authorities getting involved?”

  “Cut the shit, Tommy. You’re here to see DeeDee.”

  “Tom. It’s Tom. Or Thomas.” He swallowed. “Charlemagne.” His voiced cracked in the middle.

  Now Buck was the one chuckling, and it wasn’t forced. “Okay. Thomas.” He spit it rather than said it. “I noticed you’re not denying it. You’re here to see DeeDee.”

  “I don’t think it’s any of your business why I’m here. But if you must know, I visited my father. He’s at Gentle Seas.”

  “I know. My sister works there.”

  “And she better leave him alone.” There, that was better. Standing up for his father. He tried a glare at Buck, hoping it didn’t make him look cross-eyed.

  “Or what?”

  Excellent question. Or what -- he’d sue? He’d take out an ad? Remove their father from Gentle Seas? That was precisely what they wanted to avoid.

  “You’ll dare me to do something stupid?” Buck taunted. “No, wait. I should be the one daring you, shouldn’t I? Okay, then. Dare you to answer that question, Timid Tommy. What will you do if my sister doesn’t ‘leave your father alone?’”

  Thomas stared. His face flamed red, his body warmed, his palms sweat. Anger coursed through his veins, but he remained rooted to the spot, afraid to take action because the consequences would affect more than his physical safety.

  He was back in high school, except this was worse than high school. Back then, kids picked on you for no reason. Buck Bewley had a reason -- Thomas’s stupidity. He was the one who’d pulled that moronic prank. He was the one who’d insinuated Buck’s sister was less than ethical in her dealings at Gentle Seas.

  He breathed out slowly. All right. Simple solution -- he’d prove he was the better man. Admit he was wrong. It had been silly of him to bring up Gentle Seas and his father. This wasn’t the place for that.

  “I’m sorry,” Thomas said. “Any issue I have with Gentle Seas should be taken up with them, not you.”

  Buck’s face puckered into a suppressed grin. He shook his head, then took two long strides until he was so close that Tom could smell the man’s aftershave. For one heart-stopping moment, Thomas thought Buck was going to punch him in the gut. He tensed, getting ready for the blow.

  Buck snickered and reached past him, picking up a shop business card from the nearby counter and waving it at Becky as he left. “Gonna send this to my brother in Salisbury. He’s thinking of opening a shop.” He left.

  Thomas relaxed, but his relief was short-lived. When he looked at Becky, she glanced away, and he realized in a flash of intuition that she was embarrassed for him. Buck Bewley had outwitted him and scared him. And it had been obvious.

  “Uh… I’ll take these,” he said, scooping up the first thing he saw on the counter, a basket of duck-decorated bath salts and three rubber duckies.

  ***

  He holed up in his room the rest of the day, working on a proposal for a research project about his beloved Aefle, his laptop propped on the bed since the glare from the window made working at the hotel room desk impossible.

  He’d thought of visiting his dad again but was afraid of running into Buck’s sister. Megan had warned him to “avoid contact” with any of the Bewleys. He tried to remember how big a family it was. Buck, his sister, maybe another sister somewhere? Whatever -- Oyster Point was too small to be guaranteed not running into any of them. So Tom called his dad, spending what felt like a half hour on the phone with him, though the clock showed it was only ten minutes. He’d visit tomorrow morning. He promised. Surely Buck’s sister wouldn’t be on the premises then.

  CHAPTER NINE

  DEEDEE HAD ASKED to move the luncheon with Thomas to dinner because she had a rush meeting out of town. Even though it was a Saturday, she’d managed to snag the attention of her local congressman’s assistant chief of staff, and she’d driven the four hours to DC to meet the fellow for twenty minutes over coffee in the congressional cafeteria.

  Driving home late that afternoon, hoping to make it on time for her dinner with Tom, she was still fuming.

  Somehow, some way, Buck Bewley had managed to get the ear of someone in power at the car company, and she’d received a certified letter Friday afternoon saying her dealership was suddenly on the “cut” list! She knew it had to be Buck’s doings. She’d even managed to get a veep’s administrative assistant to admit she’d gotten a call from Oyster Point that week, but wouldn’t divulge the name of the caller. DeeDee knew who it had to have been. Oh yes, she knew.

  She’d called her lawyer. She’d called her regional organization. She’d called the mayor. One after another, they’d offered variations on the same advice: call your congressman. They’d been down this road before with another dealership on the edge of town, she was told.

  Her lawyer would be working other angles for her in the meantime, but the right word from Washington would go a long way.

  Too bad the congressman’s staff didn’t seem that interested.

  “We’ve had lots of similar requests when the cuts first came out, Ms. McGowan, and we take them all very seriously,” she said to the windshield, imitating the man’s condescending canned blather. Try as she might, she couldn’t get him to budge beyond talking points. The whole dealership closing story was so yesterday, she was lucky to have gotten an appointment at all -- that’s how she interpreted his remarks.

  “Why not just hire a robot?” she yelled at the road. “Then you remove the thinking part entirely.”

  She glanced at the dashboard clock as she swung onto the highway leading to Oyster Point. She had an hour and a half until she met Tom, and an hour’s drive left. If she didn’t run into any traffic, she could squeeze in one little stop….

  ***

  “Buck Bewley, open up!” She pounded on the front door of Buck’s two-story townhouse on the edge of town. His car was in the front drive and a light was on in a back room. She knew he was home, the cowardly bastard. A few seconds later, her assumption was confirmed. Buck flung open the door, anger reddening his face.

  “I thought you didn’t want to have anything to do with me,” he said by way of greeting.

  “What in the fuck do you think you’re doing? Your pride gets hurt and you decide to take away my livelihood -- not to mention that of all the fellows who work for me? What a man! Did you think I wouldn’t tell anybody what you’re doing? Your name won’t be worth a donkey crap in this town after I get done with you. You think that billboard of yours is funny -- wait till you see what I plan on doing, buster. And how’d you do all this so quick anyways? I thought you were soaking up the rays with some bimbo on the Outer Banks. I guess revenge was too strong a pull to keep you there, huh?”

  Buck put his hands on his hips and glared.

  “I just got back yesterday, and phones work everywhere, smartass. Jesus -- first time you’ve talked to me since the wedding and you’re screaming like a winged goose. I don’t know what I ever saw in you.”

  He reached for the door to shut it, but DeeDee jammed her foot past the threshold. Buck backed down, taking a step into the living room.

  “Look, I was all prepared to tell you how sorry I was -- to sit and meet with you and explain everything. But you’re such a hothead you had to go and make this into some big stinking public battle. You want a battle, bub? You ain’t seen nothing yet!”

  “I’m the hothead?”

  “You’re a yellow-bellied piece of snake shit. Your beef is with me, but you take it out on my employees with this dealership crap, and you drag in poor Tommy Charlemagne, too….”

  “Timid Tommy.” Buck snickered.

  “He had enough balls to get me to leave the altar,” she seethed.

  “You should know,” he sne
ered. “I bet they’re small.”

  She felt her face flame. Buck and everyone else in town knew she and Tom had had a thing years ago.

  “Bigger than yours.”

  She saw his jaw muscles working furiously as he figured out what to say. He crossed his arms over his chest and gritted his teeth.

  “First, we’re business rivals now. You made it clear that you didn’t want any kind of other relationship. You’re the one who needs to do the man-up thing. And looks to me like you’re capable. Maybe you’ve gone over to the other team.”

  She felt like hitting him but instead held her ground and fumed, before saying, “Is that all you got? You said ‘first.’ Usually that means there’s a ‘second.’ But you never were that good at math.”

  “I know that it takes two to tango, and three’s a crowd, sweetheart. And Timid Tommy became the fifth wheel last Saturday.”

  “Three? Fifth wheel?” She shook her head, but the absurdity of his retort calmed her. She softened her voice. “I had a right to leave the church. You have a gal on the side.”

  She saw his eyes widen a bit in panic. So she’d hit the bulls-eye.

  “You can’t prove that,” he said at last.

  She snorted out a laugh. “So it’s true.”

  “I didn’t admit nothing.”

  “You’re not denying it.”

  “I have friends who happen to be girls.”

  Now she guffawed. “Yeah, I bet you discuss world events with them all the time. Or maybe you get together for a book club.”

  He glared at her.

  “C’mon, Buck. We both know it’s better we didn’t tie the knot. What do you want me to do -- take out a full page ad in the Oyster Point Herald Tribune saying I’m sorry and you’re a great guy? Tell me what you want me to do, huh?”

  He paused, thinking, rubbing his chin. “Full page ad, huh?”

  DeeDee rolled her eyes but didn’t move. If an ad was what it took, maybe it was a small price to pay. Buck was so childish.

  “Maybe,” he said slowly, “Something like: The Best Dealership in Town. So Good I Shop There. Buck’s Pre-Owned Motors.”

  “What?”

  “With your signature on it.”

  “You want me to place an ad saying I shop at your place for cars instead of my own?” She shivered, thinking what her father’s reaction to such a scheme would have been.

  “You own one of my vehicles. It’s the truth.”

  She growled. Yes, the SUV she drove was from Buck’s lot, but he’d given it to her as a birthday gift last year. It was partly an inside joke gift, too, since it had Buck’s dealership logo on it. She hadn’t minded, though. Everyone in Oyster Point had known they were going out.

  Take a deep breath. Count to ten. Get what you came for.

  “Look,” she said, trying to calm her voice as she spoke. “Oyster Point is big enough for the both of us. Our dealerships did well before. They’ll do well now. Let’s end this feud, okay, Buck? Just call whoever you called to put me on the cut list and make it go away.”

  She stared at him, hoping he’d be reasonable. For a moment, his dark eyes flashed with something like understanding, staring into her own as if he wanted to accommodate her. But then pride broke the gaze.

  “Things are different now,” he said. “It’s not just about the wedding, Dee. In fact, it was our wedding that kept me from being more competitive. It stopped me from doing things I’d have normally done with a competitor.”

  Her eyebrows shot up. “You mean unethical things.”

  “I mean legal things.”

  “C’mon, Buck. You sell used cars. I sell new ones. We can both operate in the same town.”

  “The economy’s not been so stable, Dee. I don’t want to take chances.”

  She snorted and shook her head. “So this is war.”

  “No. This is business.”

  She stared at him and in that instant felt to her very core an overwhelming relief that she’d run away from marrying Buck, that she’d saved herself from a life of unhappiness, if not outright misery, by leaving that altar.

  Buck was right. It was business. He’d wanted to marry her because it would increase his business by taking over McGowan Motors. He’d have had a virtual monopoly on the car trade in the region. She had no doubt he would have run that show, too, crowding her out of decisions, taking over what her father had built.

  “When people hear that McGowan Motors is on the cut list, there will be an uproar,” she said, low and angry.

  “Maybe for a little while. But I think folks are a little burned out with all that,” Buck answered, ice in his voice. “If your father was still running it, sure. There was an awful lot of loyalty to him.”

  “But not to me?” she asked, incredulous. She’d intended it to sound sarcastic, but instead, it sounded like truth. She knew her father was beloved in town. But his daughter running the dealership? Not so much. Oyster Point had a fairly good-sized senior population who didn’t understand how a woman could possibly do a decent job at the head of anything other than a household. When those folks got word of McGowan’s possible closure, they’d just figure it was due to some blonde screwing it all up.

  “No, Dee, not to you,” Buck said, stating the obvious. He paused. “But maybe to me.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Maybe if folks heard that Buck Bewley could stop the closure…”

  So that was his game. Get the dealership on the cut list and make a big stink about trying to save it -- even if he couldn’t, he’d look like the hero.

  She gritted her teeth and looked away. Swallowing hard, she stepped forward, grabbing the front of his shirt as she gazed up into his face, batting her eyelashes.

  “Really, Buck? You could save me? You’d do that for li’l ole me?” she murmured in her best velvety come-hither voice.

  She felt him relax and saw his eyelids drooping as he breathed in her perfume. Just as his hands came up to hug her arms, she stomped on his toe and stepped back.

  “Not on your life, asshole! I’ll see you in court.” She turned and marched back to her car, cursing herself for thinking she could reason with the man as she slid into the seat. She’d get rid of the SUV tomorrow and drive something off her own lot, with her own dealership insignia.

  CHAPTER TEN

  CANDLES GLOWED, jazz played softly in the background, aromas of buttered seafood and sizzling steaks wafted out of the kitchen. Line drawings of Chesapeake Bay schooners decorated one brick wall while paintings from local artists adorned the other. Tourists in expensive but casual clothes chatted quietly as Thomas perused his menu. Megan had suggested this place, a new restaurant near the Nanticoke River’s shores, situated in what used to be an old jailhouse. An old cell door opened into a wine room near the back.

  Thomas was just looking at his watch when DeeDee showed up. Flushed and nervous, she scanned the room twice before her gaze lit on Thomas. Even then, he’d had to raise his hand to draw her attention.

  “I’m sorry if I’m late,” she said, hurrying to the table. Thomas stood and made a motion to go to her chair to hold it, but she scooted into place before he could.

  She looked around the room. “I’ve not tried this place yet. I’ve heard it’s real good.”

  “So have I. I mean, I haven’t tried it either. My sister recommended it. Looks quite nice.”

  He reached below his chair and brought up the “gift” he’d purchased earlier.

  “I--I went shopping earlier. I bought you something. A peace offering.” He pushed the bath basket toward her on the table and was surprised when he thought he saw her curl her lip.

  “You must have been in Becky’s store. Her husband --”

  “Yes, I know. He represents Buck.” He noticed she made no attempt to look at the items in the basket, and to tell the truth, it did look rather shabby now that it was away from all the other cute duck things. Its ugliness had been camouflaged by the uglier things around it.
>
  Awkward silence fell over them as they both looked at the menu, and a waiter interrupted for drink orders. Thomas asked for a beer on tap -- he enjoyed sampling local brews -- while DeeDee ordered the house Chardonnay.

  Since he already knew what he wanted to eat -- an imperial crab dish -- he studied DeeDee as she decided what to order. She was just as lovely as he’d remembered, maybe even more so with the unnatural finery of the wedding removed. She wore a simple silk turquoise shell over black slacks, a finely knit sweater of matching sea hues around her shoulders. Her white-blond hair was pulled back into a ponytail at the base of her neck. Silver earrings and necklace completed the ensemble. He noticed her hands were bare of any rings.

  When the waiter returned, they placed their orders, and Thomas cleared his throat, ready to embark on his mission.

  “Thanks for agreeing to get together,” he began. “Megan is trying to extract some delays from Buck’s lawyer, but I thought it still might help to go over things with you in a more informal setting.” He smiled, hoping to put her at ease. She looked tense.

  DeeDee shook her head, sweeping her right hand around the room. “This seems pretty formal to me. Informal would have been the Burger Shack on Route One.”

  “No, no, I meant formal like law offices,” he corrected. “And this place is nice, but it’s hardly formal.” He nodded toward the tourists at other tables in polo shirts and khakis. No one was required to wear a jacket here.

  DeeDee scowled. “Well I guess Oyster Point can’t compare to what you’re used to getting in the big city, Tom darlin’” she drawled. “At least this restaurant has facilities instead of the stinky outhouses we all have to use at those other joints.”

  Thomas cringed as her voice rose. Was another diner staring at them? Great way to start -- by making her feel as if he was lording his worldliness over her. He tried again.

  “This is a wonderful place, really nice. I’m relieved not to have to wear a jacket. In fact, it’s warm, so I’ll just take mine off.” He removed his sport coat and draped it over the back of his chair. “There, that’s better. Much more comfortable. Comfortable is good. And this place is great.”

 

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