by Libby Malin
He cringed, waiting for the firestorm that would surely follow this suggestion. When she was silent, he went on: “It’s not that the university -- or my colleagues -- has any right to pass judgment on my personal life in this regard, mind you, but there is an expectation of decorum, of seriousness. The lawsuit presents a contrary picture of me.”
Again, silence.
“DeeDee?”
“Yeah, I’m here.” Her voice sounded clogged, and his heart ached. She sounded beaten down. He’d never heard her sound that way.
“What’s wrong?”
“Everything,” she said. She cleared her throat and spoke more strongly. “I’ve been on the phone practically all day trying to keep the wolves from the dealership door. No promises from anyone. And then I thought I’d start a petition in town to get people to back me up… and I’ve got five signatures total.”
“You just started, though!” Although he wasn’t keen on the petition idea, one day didn’t prove lack of support.
“Sunday’s a big day at the shops downtown and at the market, too. I expected at least a hundred names by tonight.”
“Then your expectations were too high. Have you tried other things -- talking to the mayor? Wasn’t your dad a friend of his?”
“Yes. Key phrase -- my dad. That’s all he talked about, what a good fellow Dad was, how he missed him. He didn’t seem to get that I’m the owner of the dealership now. He even had the nerve to say that he’d always figured I’d be giving it up after marrying Buck anyway -- like I didn’t care as much as Dad did about it.”
Typical Oyster Point, Tom thought. Making judgments about DeeDee and her aspirations, her abilities.
“How about your congressmen, city council, local newspaper -- any of those can help?”
“I’m working all those fronts, but nothing’s popping. And Buck is moving fast.”
“Yes, I know.”
“I’m really sorry, Tom. I know it was a prank and all, but you probably didn’t count on this big effing mess. I certainly didn’t. I should never have said yes to his proposal in the first place.”
“Why did you?” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.
But she was just as quick to respond.
“I’ve asked myself that a million times -- actually, I didn’t say yes right away. He had to ask me a few times before I caved.”
“He bullied you into it.”
She snorted a laugh. “No, you’re not giving me enough credit. Buck can’t bully me.”
That stung -- because of how it contrasted with his own reactions to the Buck Beweleys of the world.
“I don’t know,” she went on. “I guess I just want what my parents had. A family. A home. The ole clock is tickin’ faster these days.”
“You can have a home on your own. You already do.”
“Yeah, I know.” She cleared her throat. “You know what really bugs me? Buck’s been telling folks that if we’d married and he was running the dealership, he could save it. And people believe him!”
“How do you know that?” he asked gently. “I’m sure people in town appreciated what a good job you were doing. You’re letting your imagination run wild.” He stopped himself from saying “honey” at the end of that bit of consolation. The summer they’d been together, he’d called her that.
“It’s not my imagination when Russ Peters, the sheriff’s deputy, tells me. He talks to a lot of people. He said that Buck has good business sense -- as if I don’t!”
“He told you this out of the blue?”
“No, it was when he was talking me out of smashing the windshield of Buck’s car with a baseball bat. And that’s not all he said. He said the same thing the mayor did -- that he figured I’d be handing the dealership over to Buck anyway, so what was the big deal? Just sell it and get ’er done. Can you believe that? He said that to me!”
“Uh, back up a minute. You were going to smash Buck’s car with a bat?” He shook his head.
“Well, yeah.”
“You do know that was terribly wrong, don’t you?”
He heard her heave a big sigh. “Of course I do, Thomas. I’m not stupid. I was just so mad, and I knew he could have the windshield replaced in a snap, and I’d just been listening to that Carrie Underwood song ‘Before He Cheats’ and I was driving past his house, and I wasn’t thinking. And Russ drove along anyway and stopped me. I was just standing there with the bat mulling the possibilities. That’s all. That’s not a crime.”
Thomas stifled a laugh. “When’s your next meeting with your lawyer?”
“Tomorrow. Buck’s got this whole thing on warp speed. I don’t know how he does it. He was away for most of the week. He must have been in touch with the whole town while he was gone.”
“Try to get some rest. Don’t think about it. Go into your lawyer’s fresh tomorrow. See what you can do to make things calm down and go away. It will be best for everybody.”
To Thomas’s relief, she agreed. “I’ll try,” she said before they said their farewells.
When he hung up, he felt as happy as when he’d made the Aefle discovery a few hours earlier. Maybe the lawsuit would go away, after all. DeeDee had just needed to vent. He’d be happy to listen to her rants if it meant they could move past the wedding debacle.
Things were looking up.
***
The next morning, DeeDee frowned as she looked out the window. The sunny weekend was over, replaced by a gray cloud cover that trapped the town in early spring heat and humidity. Mist coated her windows.
Her stomach churned as she dressed for her nine o’clock meeting. Her talk with Thomas the evening before had soothed her, but now she had to face the music. And what she’d not told Thomas was that this get-together included Buck’s lawyer, as well. She was sure Buck would be there, too.
Her own counsel, local lawyer and friend, Jane-Ann Petrich, had set it up, to see if they could come to an amicable settlement that would leave everyone happy, or at least less infuriated. She’d convinced DeeDee to agree to the powwow because the sooner she got this behind her, the sooner she could focus on saving her car dealership. In fact, Jane-Ann had convinced DeeDee to agree to certain promises in order to make the whole thing disappear.
“It’s unfair,” she muttered to herself as she shrugged into the jacket of a dark blue pantsuit. Jane-Ann had suggested she dress businesslike, to send the message she took the proceedings seriously. Jane-Ann had also advised her to stay quiet, if at all possible. She was sure Buck’s lawyer, Dickie Faulkes, would exploit any “wrong moves.” Jane-Ann hadn’t had much good to say about Dickie.
So all the way to her lawyer’s offices on the outskirts of town, DeeDee practiced breathing exercises, telling herself to remain calm, that Buck couldn’t hurt her if she didn’t let him, and that she just needed to get through this.
But when she pulled into the lot of new office building, the first thing she saw was Buck’s big, red four-wheel, and she noticed a bumper sticker she’d not seen the night before: Buck Bewley’s Used Cars: Buck Won’t Give You Any Crap!
It was the exact same message on the billboard. The jerk was building a marketing plan around their aborted wedding!
She closed her eyes as her hands balled into fists. Calm, stay calm. Take deep breaths.
Her heart still fluttering, she marched into the office building, told the receptionist who she was, and was ushered into a sleek new conference room where Jane-Ann sat at one end, and Buck and Dickie at the other. Jane-Ann gestured for her to join her.
“Sort of like friend of the groom, friend of the bride seating, huh, DeeDee?” Buck said, smiling.
Jane-Ann immediately clamped her fingers around DeeDee’s wrist as she addressed Dickie: “You two don’t need to be so far away. We won’t bite.” Then she pointed to a nearby credenza on which a coffee carafe and baked goods were arranged. “Help yourself. There’s pastry, too.”
No one moved.
Nonplussed, Jane-Ann straighten
ed some papers in front of her, before heading to the credenza to pour herself a cup of java. DeeDee admired her calm and tried to feed off it. It was hard when Buck kept grinning at her. She relaxed when he broke his gaze, but her irritation revived when he pulled a pack of photos from his breast pocket.
“Almost forgot. Just posted these--from my trip to the Outer Banks.” He held up his phone to Dickie, scrolling through a photo album, and even from across the room DeeDee could see they were shots of white sand and blue-green ocean, probably taken from the balcony of the beachfront condo they’d rented for their honeymoon. The honeymoon she’d paid for and Buck had taken on his own.
Jane-Ann returned to the table and sat down. After taking a sip of coffee, she said, in a firm but pleasant voice, “Now, gentlemen, I realize that tempers have flown pretty high over the past week. And no one here will argue that a wedding not going as planned isn’t cause for some feelings of ill will. But we’re all adults, and I think we all recognize that the best way to get over hurt feelings is to get past them as soon as possible--”
“Buck’s not arguing he’s hurt,” Dickie said, interrupting. “But we certainly understand Ms. McGowan’s disappointment.”
“You what?” DeeDee asked, her head whipping toward him.
Jane-Ann grabbed for her arm again and looked at her. “Don’t worry, Dee, I’ll handle this.” She turned back to Dickie. “I’d appreciate it if you let me finish before you start racking up billables for your client to pay.” She pasted on a smile so sweet it would send a diabetic into a coma, then returned to her notes.
“Now, what we propose is that Ms. McGowan will pay all charges associated with the wedding -- including those Mr. Bewley originally promised to handle, such as flowers, car rentals, tuxedo rentals for him and his best men, hotel suites for out-of-town guests, and, of course, the honeymoon condo in North Carolina--”
DeeDee had agreed to these arrangements, figuring she would have ended up handling them anyway, given Buck’s propensity to use her checkbook before opening his.
“Oh, sorry, she already paid for that,” Buck said. “Good choice, too. I mightily enjoyed it.”
As DeeDee sucked in a breath, Jane-Ann continued. “Be that as it may, Mr. Bewley originally agreed to take on that part of the wedding expenses. But Ms. McGowan is willing to forgive that debt and handle the others in exchange for some very small accommodations.” She turned over a page. “First, Mr. Bewley agrees to drop all litigation against her and against Mr. Thomas Charlemagne. Second, he agrees to remove the billboard on Route 301--”
“And any other similar promotional items,” DeeDee added quickly. Turning to Buck, she said, “Like bumper stickers.”
Jane-Ann just nodded and went one. “Third, Mr. Bewley agrees to drop any and all efforts to get her car dealership closed.” She looked up and smiled again. “Ms. McGowan also agrees to abide by a gag order if these conditions are met. She will not speak publicly or privately about Mr. Bewley, the wedding, or his place of business ever again.”
As Jane-Ann sipped her coffee, Dickie Faulkes spoke.
“Now, Jane-Ann, I have to admit that I was expecting better than that. Ms. McGowan backed out of what would have essentially been the biggest business merger in Oyster Point since Calgore Canning joined forces with the Skipjack Fishing and Crabbing Company. You don’t just run away from a deal like that without consequences.”
“A business merger?” DeeDee felt her face flaming and her eyes popping out of her head. With her palms on the table, she turned to face Buck. “You thought of our marriage as a business merger?”
“You didn’t think I was really sweet on you, did you, DeeDee?” Buck said.
A noise came from DeeDee’s throat that sounded like a growl.
This time, Jane-Ann did not attempt to calm her. And the smile dropped from her face as she addressed Dickie, “If Mr. Bewley is going on the record that he, in fact, was not marrying Ms. McGowan for love, any reasonable person -- and that includes a judge -- might conclude he was trying to deceive her. One might argue that he was going to marry her to extort money out of her, given my client didn’t insist on a pre-nup.”
“Deception is a strong word, Jane-Ann,” Dickie said. “Don’t be getting your panties in a twist, now. We’re just arguing that Ms. McGowan knew that her marriage to Mr. Bewley represented more than the usual joining of two like-minded hearts. They had discussed numerous times the conjoining of their business ventures. I have affidavits from several townspeople attesting to such conversations in their presence, and my client has himself signed a lengthy statement detailing dates and times these discussions took place, along with the topics involved.”
DeeDee’s breath came fast, her heart galloped. The ratbastard! Yes, they’d talked of their two businesses in public. But it had always been Buck bragging about how they’d be the biggest car shops around after they wed. DeeDee had merely smiled and joked with him, not thinking about implications.
“Now, Dick Faulkes, I know you do a lot of estate law, so I don’t hold it against you that you’re taking this case into such far-flung territory. I can assure you that my client did not view her wedding to Mr. Bewley as a business merger, and I strongly suspect that anyone hearing your line of bu -- your line of argument -- would come to the just conclusion that such a groom is not a gentleman, but a cad, and the bride who runs away from him is more than justified.” Her smile returned.
Invigorated by Jane-Ann’s scathing rebuke, DeeDee turned to Buck again. In a soft, reasonable tone, she said, “Look, you can settle all this pretty quickly, Buck. All you need to do is stop acting like an ass.”
“Me, an ass? Me, the guy left standing at the altar when you ran off with that geek-wad Timid Tommy?” Buck’s face began to redden, and this time, it was Dickie Faulkes placing a restraining hand on his client’s arm.
“Yeah, you -- and don’t call him Timid Tommy. He’s a professor, for cripe’s sake. Made some big discovery, too. He has more education in his pinky toe than you have in your freakishly large head.”
Was that steam coming out of Buck’s ears? Dickie’s muscles strained as he held onto Buck’s arm “Now, let me handle this…” he said to his client, but Buck would have none of it.
Knowing she’d hit a bulls-eye, DeeDee continued, “And you’re the chickenshit in this little drama anyway. You’re hiding behind your big friends in high places trying to get my place shut down. There’s a man for you.”
“You wait a minute, DeeDee McGowan. I ain’t trying to get your place shut down. It was me who kept the damn rathole open -- not that you deserved it. Maybe your father did, but not you.”
“What?!!”
Jane-Ann intervened, leaning forward. “Does Mr. Bewley have some information he’d like to share with us on the record about behind-the-scenes market manipulations? Dickie, this is getting a mite more interesting than your usual practice might be able to handle. We might have some commercial issues that need to be resolved regarding illegal business practices.”
“There was nothing illegal about it,” Buck roared. “I was trying to do her a favor, dammit. When the cut lists were coming down, I talked to people I knew. I got them to keep her dealership off the list! Don’t you get it? I saved your sorry ass, DeeDee. I just stopped saving it once you decided you didn’t want me anymore. I just let things happen naturally and called some friends to tell ’em I wasn’t interested in the place no more.”
Dickie relaxed and smiled.
Jane-Ann sank back in her seat.
DeeDee blinked fast. Her face warmed. Without looking at Buck or Dickie, she murmured, “excuse me, I’m not feeling well” and left the room. She heard Jane-Ann rapidly wrapping up, saying she needed to talk to her client, who was obviously ill and shouldn’t have come to the meeting in the first place but only did so out of a generosity of spirit that clearly wasn’t appreciated.
Jane-Ann caught up with her in the ladies room a few minutes later.
“That was brutal,” D
eeDee said, patting her warm face with a damp paper towel.
“Don’t let his braggadocio get you down,” Jane-Ann said.
“Is that all you think it is?” DeeDee responded, looking at her lawyer in the mirror. “It kind of makes sense. Buck’s family knows a lot of people. He probably put a right word in at the right time, and now he’s not interested in helping me out anymore. I can’t blame him there.”
“There’s no way to confirm that right now. Right now, we need to focus on the lawsuit.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“I think the next meeting should just be me and Dickie.”
DeeDee shook her head, her old fire returning. “I don’t know. I’m beginning to think that might be a waste of time. Buck’s not interested in dealing with us at all. I know him. He probably agreed to this meeting just so he could humiliate me like that, telling me it was him who kept my dealership open. That’s all he’s interested in. Embarrassing me the way I embarrassed him.”
Jane-Ann tilted her head, thinking. “You really think that’s all he wants?”
“Yeah. His ego’s as big as this town.”
“Give me some time. Let me think of some things.”
“Listen, will you at least be able to get Tommy -- Thomas -- out of it? I hate the thought of putting an innocent bystander through all this shit.”
Jane-Ann smiled ruefully. “He’s hardly innocent, you know.”
DeeDee shook her head. “Just do what you can.”
Jane-Ann patted DeeDee’s arm. “I’ll see what I can do. In the meantime, do you want some friendly, nonlawyerly advice?”
DeeDee looked at her blankly.
“Take off for a while. Get out of town. Do something different. I’ll work with Dickie. I think he’s just interested in putting on a show and milking the case for as many hours he can claim. I’ll calm him down. But maybe the best thing for you would be to go out of town, out of Buck Bewley’s line of sight.”