by Faye Sonja
Florence slowly opened her eyes. “I’ve never eaten here before.”
“Howard was remodeling the kitchen last year. It’s a recent town treasure. Not too many people know about it yet.”
Florence smiled as she stabbed at her soft scrambled eyes. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Florence went back to her plate. Ben bit into a maple syrup drowned pancake as he continued to talk. “If we married, every day could be like this.”
A fork clattered on the plate. Ben looked up to meet Florence’s alluring eyes. “Don’t start that again, Ben.”
Ben sighed. “Alright.”
Florence picked her fork back up. “I still don’t understand why you chose me to head the design for this.” She glanced at him. “I feel like my work has never been good enough for you.”
Ben frowned. “I’m sorry you feel that way, but I think you’re work is excellent.”
“Really?”
“Of course, Florence.”
“Then why do you always critique me?”
He shrugged. “Because you could always be better.”
Florence sighed. “So I’m good, but I can be better.”
“Everyone can be better. I’ve travelled the world, Florence. I’ve seen designs in New York, Paris, Italy. You’re from Kansas and I say, you’re excellent, but everyone can be better. Anyone and everyone, should want to do better.”
Florence’s eyes stared into his; unmoved. “You’d really put my work on the same stage as designs from Paris?”
Ben leaned forward over the table. “I would.”
Florence smiled. Ben opened his mouth. Florence reached over and placed a hand over his lips. “Don’t,” she said. “Don’t ruin the moment.”
Ben smiled underneath her soft fingers. He kissed them gently. Florence pulled her hand back as though she’d been burned. She looked away. “Ben.” She shook her head. “You make it hard for me to hate you sometimes.”
That is exactly what I intend to do, Ben thought. Yes, he thought Florence’s designs were superb, but he’d had more than one reason for putting Florence to work on this grand assignment. He wanted to be close to her. He wanted to put her in a position that would require him almost unlimited access to her. Why? Because she’d turned him down and kept doing it. It was the strangest experience of Ben’s life. Benjamin Manning, who’d never planned to marry, had finally asked a woman to take his last name and she’d said no. She said no and she kept on saying no. How was that even possible? Ben knew what he looked like; he saw himself in the mirror every day. He was handsome. Plus, he had a job; a job that paid well. Those two things alone were more than what Eddie had going for him, and yet, Florence had told him no. What did the dirty little man named Eddie, have over him anyway? It was unnerving and Benjamin Manning would not stand for it.
Since he’d come to town, Ben had basically dodged all the good daughters and mothers of Haines, because everyone was trying to get him to take someone down the aisle. He’d admit that some of the women in town were beautiful, like Howard’s daughter, Amy. A marriage to Amy would definitely put Benjamin into all the right circles. Amy had already showed interest in him; repeatedly, and marrying her was something that Ben had always seen himself eventually doing; marrying, if he married, for status alone. But then, Florence Tilson, with her long blond hair, violet eyes, and warm colored skin, had come along, and Ben was rethinking everything. It wasn’t love he felt for Florence. It was intrigue. Florence made him smile on the inside; which Ben thought was a silly thing to say, but true. Ben had had years of practice at perfecting his ‘public and polite’ smile, but the one he gave to Florence, he could feel in his chest. It felt like something warm and heavy had invaded him on the inside and settled over his heart. Not love. Never that. But something that he was growing to like. Something that only Florence’s presence could bring.
The waitress, and a series of other wait staff, came over to box all the leftovers away. When they returned, Ben paid the check, dropped a heavy tip, and then escorted Florence out of the hotel and back into the sunny day and busy sidewalk of Haines.
They started for Haines Press. Ben put his hands in his pockets and looked over at Florence. She was carrying her boxes in her hand, since she’d refused to let him carry them. He smiled. “Did you plan on going to the fair?”
Florence smiled at him as they walked at a leisurely stroll. “Yeah. I was actually going to paint something for the art contest, but now I don’t think I’ll have the time.”
Ben frowned. “It’s always good to get paid for your passion.”
Florence narrowed her eyes. “What’s your passion?”
Ben smiled. “Getting people to say ‘yes’.”
Florence huddled away from him. Ben laughed, then said, “Like securing the design job with Howard.”
They crossed the street. “How’d you manage to pull that off?”
“I dined at the hotel when he dined at the hotel. Eventually, we were sitting together and talking as though it was routine. If one of us was late, we’d always save a seat for the other.”
“So, you were friends first?”
“I wouldn’t say that Howard is my friend, but we have a mutual respect for what the other does.”
Florence frowned. “So, you and Howard, talking and eating together, it was all just coincidence?”
Ben looked at Florence’s face and found himself trapped in her gaze. “No, I set it up.”
Florence gasped. “That doesn’t sound like a good thing to do, Ben.”
Ben shrugged. “Either way, we’ll both benefit from the relationship.”
Florence shook her head. “It’s almost like you’re a con artist.”
Ben laughed. “A con artist?” He shook his head. “No, I take nothing that I haven’t earned. I simply specialize in knowing what people want, and I’ve become something of a professional at giving it to them.”
“That sounds like a useful skill.”
“It is.”
“It won’t work with me.”
“I know.”
Her lavender eyes held his. “You know?”
Ben nodded.
Florence frowned. “You don’t act like you know.”
Ben smiled. “Knowing what people want and giving it to them is only part of my specialty.”
“What’s the other part?”
Ben stopped walking, which caused Florence to stop as well. She turned around to look at him. Ben stepped closer to her and brought his hand up; hovering it by her face. Florence’s lips parted. Ben stroked the back of his hand down her cheek. Her skin was warm and soft underneath his touch. Florence’s eyes fluttered closed. Ben whispered. “My other specialty is knowing what someone needs and giving that to them as well.”
Florence’s eyes opened. “I don’t need you.”
Ben’s hand cupped her face. “Are you sure?”
Florence’s eyes skirted around. “You keep touching me like this and people will talk.”
“I don’t care. Do you?”
Florence took a step back. “About me? No. Once everyone sees that I’m pregnant, I’m done. But you?” She visibly swallowed. “I don’t want people to think that the baby is yours. It would ruin your reputation.”
Ben took a step closer. “How about you let me worry about my own reputation.”
Florence shook her head. “No, because if your reputation is ruined, I’ll feel responsible.”
“And what would you do then?”
Florence sighed. “Be guilted into marrying you.”
A slow grin spread on Ben’s face.
Florence gasped. “You’re just terrible.”
He laughed. Florence spun away and headed down the street. Ben stood on the sidewalk, watching as Florence’s blond waves swayed with her steps. The way she balanced on her toes; skirting around the pedestrians reminded him of a dancer. He smiled and then walked the rest of the way to Haines Press by himself; ready to get to work on busin
ess… and on Florence’s heart.
* * *
4
Chapter FOUR
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“I can’t marry you, Benjamin. I don’t
like being alone, but I want to be
with someone who will love me.”
.
Florence took off her shoes as she entered Clara’s home. It was the weekend, and the weekend meant Girl Time. The week had been a rough one for Florence. She’d assembled a team from Haines’ top designers together and they’d gotten to work with the fair’s advertisement designs. Some of the men had had a problem working and having a woman in charge, so Florence had dismissed them. One strike and they were out. She was pregnant, moody, and didn’t have the patience. She’d pushed ahead without the ones that tried to cause trouble only to have them all come back begging by the end of the week. They didn’t want to work for a woman, but the money was too good to pass up. Even Florence was excited about her cut. If all went well, she might be able to start looking for that dream house next year after all. The thought of raising her baby in a place of his or her own put a smile on her face.
Music from Clara’s recorder greeted her ears and made Florence smile. A piano played a perky shuffled tune, a trumpet blow sketched across the melody, and a bass player set the tempo in motion. Florence’s shoulders were moving before she even realized that her feet began to tap. She put her bag down and raced to the sitting room. She found Clara in a black flapper, dancing. The beads on the ends of each layer shimmied to the jazzy sounds that blared through the home. Eve and her one-year-old daughter, Evelyn, were dancing too; mommy and daughter holding hands, Eve on her knees so that she could be eye level with Evelyn. The little girl, who was just grasping how to stand on her own chubby legs was laughing. They were having a party without her.
Clara held out her hand and Florence didn’t resist. The moment their hands touched, their feet crossed, kicked in the air, and crossed again as they both tried to do The Charleston, to the song created by composer James P. Johnson.
Florence spun Clara around, switching places. Her eyes went wide as she saw Joe walk into the room. Florence smiled, spun Clara again, and then handed her friend off into the arms of her husband. Clara gasped and tried to push Joe away, but Joe was having none of that. He held on to his wife’s hand, spun her out, and then back in. Clara laughed and then began to dance; just as happy as anyone had ever seen her. Florence’s face felt like it would split in two as she took a seat on the couch. Eve and Evelyn came to join her. They watched as Joe and Clara danced; laughing as Clara got into the moves; hands on her hips, finger waving in the air, feet shuffling underneath her. Joe snapped his fingers, moved his shoulders with the beat, and shuffled his feet alongside his wife. It was the cutest and funniest thing Florence had ever seen. The pair was much like night and day; literally. Clara wore her hair short and in finger waves. It was black, just like everything else the woman wore. Joe was a blond and wore mainly whites and bright colors, like he was now. But somehow, Florence thought they fit together so well; balancing one another out.
Florence sighed as she remembered how the two had almost missed their chance. Clara had been afraid of loving her longtime friend; not willing to give herself over to any man. Not willing to let herself be hurt the way she’d been hurt before. But the moment Joe had decided to move on, Clara had come around. It had been a close call, but the two had eventually found their way to one another.
The record ended and Clara quickly lowered the volume on the recorder before the second song could begin, reducing it to the background. She was breathing hard when she turned back to the room. Joe came over and kissed her on the cheek. “I’m going to go play basketball with the guys. I’ll see you later.”
Clara waved him off. “That’s fine.”
Joe kissed her cheek.
Clara stood still.
Joe kissed her cheek again.
Clara sighed, turned, and kissed her husband on the lips.
Joe smiled and then went towards the back of the house.
Clara crossed her arms. A large grin on her face.
Eve laughed. “Oh, Clara. You looked like you’re ready to fall into a million pieces.”
Clara did a little happy dance. Joe came back with a bag. Clara stopped and put on her straight face; looking as innocent as a lamb. Joe looked at her and narrowed his eyes. He then turned to the rest of the room. “You ladies all have fun now.”
“We will,” Florence said.
A wave and then Joe was gone.
Clara ran over and sat between her friends on the couch. She still had the straight face on, but as the seconds passed, her frown soon turned into an all-out grin.
Florence sighed. “You’re so happy.”
Clara leaned back into the cushion. She closed her eyes. “I am.”
Eve brought her feet up under her, but let Evelyn down to the floor. “Aren’t you glad I intruded on your relationship?”
Clara narrowed her eyes. “Perhaps.”
Florence smiled. Eve had been crucial to Clara and Joe finally getting together. Clara had dragged Joe along for so long that Eve had to chime in and say enough was enough. The couple’s friendship had been treading on thin ice, so Eve had arranged the meeting between Clara and Joe that had eventually led to their marriage.
Eve waved her off. “If it had been left up to you, Joe would be married to another woman right now.”
Clara crossed her arms. “I would have strangled him.”
Florence laughed. “And gone to jail.”
Clara sighed. “Nah. I would have gotten away with it.” Her dark turquoise eyes took on a devious look.
“This is not one of your crime novels, Mrs. C.C. Reed,” Eve said, calling Clara by her pen name. C.C. Reed was the name Clara used when she published her crime series, in order to make men think that a man was behind her work. It may have been 1924, but women were still being ‘put in their place’. Women were only allowed to write romance, but Clara was defying the masses… even if only in private.
Clara turned to Eve. “It’s just C.C. Reed, not Mrs. C.C. Reed. You know that only you, Robert, Joe, and Florence know who I am, and that C.C. isn’t a man.”
“That’s not true,” Florence said. “Benjamin knows C.C. Reed is a woman. He just doesn’t know that that woman is you.” Joe had found out about C.C. Reed’s true identity after months of correspondence between himself and C.C. Reed. Little did he know, he’d been writing his best friend, Clara, the entire time. When the truth came to light, Florence was almost sure Clara would have lost Joe, but that was love. It was unrelenting, almost dangerous to those under its power.
Eve leaned around Clara. “Speaking of Benjamin,” she said to Florence.
Florence’s face grew warm, but she didn’t move. “What about Benjamin?”
Clara looked between both women. “Yes, what about Benjamin? Please, do tell.”
Florence sighed. “Benjamin got me a major project today.”
Clara tilted her head. “Oh?”
Eve nodded. “Yeah, Florence and Benjamin are doing the entire advertising design for Haines’ section of the Kansas State Fair.”
Clara’s eyes went wide. “Wow. Really? Isn’t Mr. James Howard chair of the local business association?” Clara turned to Florence. “Working with the richest man in town?” She rolled her eyes. “What an honor.” The back of Clara’s hand came to rest on her own forehead; her eyes fluttered. “Mr. James Howard. The most powerful man in town.”
Florence laughed. “Yeah, that man thinks he runs the world, and he even had the nerve to hit on me.”
“In front of Benjamin?” Eve asked.
Florence sighed. “Why must you keep bringing that man up?”
Eve smiled. “You brought him up first.”
Florence shut her mouth. She had. “Fine. But, let’s not talk about him.”
Florence sighed. “Yes.”
Eve got up and sat on the other side of Florence. “Why do you keep telling him no?”
Florence tried to back away from both her friends. “Uh, because he doesn’t love me.”
“Do you love him?” Clara asked.
Florence fought to get her words out. “I, uh… Of course, I don’t... love… Ben.”
Eve lifted a dark brow. “You don’t sound too sure. Come on, admit it. He’s hard to resist, ain’t he?”
Florence narrowed her eyes. “You’re married to his identical twin. Your opinion doesn’t count.”
Eve smiled and looked over into nothing. “You’re right. Robert is so dreamy.” She closed her eyes and sighed.
“And anyway,” Florence began. “I’m pregnant with another man’s baby. I can’t marry Benjamin. It wouldn’t be right.”
Eve shrugged. “I had a pair of twins myself before Robert married me.”
Clara nodded. “That’s true, Florence. So, marry Benjamin.”
Florence turned to Clara. “I know you’re not talking. You hated men before you married Joe.”
Clara put her hands up. “Hey, I’m a woman. I can change my mind.”
Eve laughed. “Love does that.”
Florence crossed her arms. “Well, I was in love and Eddie packed up and left.”
Eve narrowed her eyes. “Eddie was just as worthless as my first husband. My marriage to Robert is like heaven on Earth.”
Florence looked at Eve. “But you had almost a decade to find yourself before Robert came into your life.” Florence looked straight ahead; not seeing anything. “And I think that’s what I need to do. I need to find myself. My mother was a woman of… low morals. She always looked to a man to fulfill herself and I ended up doing the same exact thing and like her, I got pregnant. Both of you had years to just be yourselves. I’ve never been able to just be me. I don’t even know who I am.” She looked at Clara. “Do you know what I mean?”