by Jill Sanders
They found a small sandwich shop ten minutes later. It was warm, so they sat outside at a covered table and ate in silence. When she’d eaten her turkey sandwich, she relaxed and began to talk.
Chapter Nine
“I met Derek in college when I was a freshman. He was a senior about to graduate with a pre-law degree. I thought I’d found the man I wanted to grow old with, and we married less than a year later. The wedding was small and wonderful, and I thought it would be the start of a really great life. That night, our wedding night, I learned it wasn’t to be a dream but a nightmare. Derek was very upset about some of the college friends I’d invited to the wedding. That was the first time he hit me. Things progressed from there. He wasn’t only controlling, he was extremely jealous. I learned his moods, learned when to keep my mouth shut, learned to apologize for everything, whether I’d done anything wrong or not. One night, my boss at Martin and Marcus, the marketing firm I worked for, needed me to stay late on a campaign that was due to go to print the next day. Actually, it was Ric Derby’s gallery campaign I was working on. You have to understand, my boss Jose was a sixty-five-year-old grandfather of six. He was like a father figure to me.
“When I got home late that night, Derek accused me of having an affair. Things escalated from there, and I woke up in the hospital with him standing over me, telling an officer how I’d been mugged in the parking lot of our complex. I had sixteen stitches to my head, three broken ribs, and two broken fingers.” Megan looked down now at her hand. Her fingers were healed, but they still ached when it got cold.
“When I was released, he bought me diamond earrings and apologized. He told me he was under a lot of stress from work, and he wouldn’t be able to stand it if I left him. I regularly got slapped or pushed. He started throwing things at me too; he had really good aim. He started with small items—shoes, books—and then he started in on the lamps and small furniture. After the third time I ended up in the hospital, someone called the police since his excuses weren’t believable anymore. They couldn’t arrest him unless I pressed charges. I took their advice and moved into a shelter. I was there for two weeks when Derek found me and dragged me back; then he kept me locked up in a room, a prisoner.” She looked up at Todd.
He sat patiently, listening. His knuckles where white, but his face showed little emotion. She could tell he was struggling to keep it in check. “He’d taken me to a remote run-down motel that rented by the week. I was locked in the same room for three days, no phone, no going out, little to no food since he was at work all day, and all I could eat was what he gave me. He’d even paid the staff not to bother us or stop by to clean our room. He’d installed a lock on the outside of the bathroom door and locked me in it every day. Even when he was there, I spent most of my time locked in the tiny space. It was a six-by-seven room, no windows, no fresh air. I was going crazy. I thought there was no way out.”
“And then, one day, the bathroom door just pushed open. Maybe he’d forgotten to lock it, I don’t know, but I ran. I didn’t even grab clothes. I ran to the corner and then to the next and then the next. I ended up about six miles away at a Quick-N-Stop. I called my boss and asked if he could come take me to the police station. Mr. Martin helped me file for divorce and get a restraining order against Derek. I formally pressed charges, and they arrested him and sentenced him to two years in prison, but he only served six months. Part of the plea bargain was based on him signing the divorce papers. After I recovered, I started back at work. Mr. Martin hired me back, no questions asked. I sold the townhouse, signed a lease on a new apartment on the other side of town, bought new furniture…I thought I’d started my new life.”
Todd reached over and held her left hand; she’d been peeling the cast away again. She’d been talking without really seeing him, trying not to show emotion.
“The restraining order was still in effect. He couldn’t get within two hundred feet of me, and he stayed away for a while, until a week before Matt died. I’d been putting in some extra hours, trying to save up for a trip back here to visit. When I got home that night, I remember turning around to lock the door, and he was just…there. I guess my neighbor called the police when she saw him push his way in. It took them ten minutes to get there. If they hadn’t arrived so quickly, I would be dead. Derek hadn’t changed. He told me I had ruined his life. He said he knew I’d been sleeping around, and I deserved everything I’d gotten and more. That if he couldn’t have me, then no one would, and I needed to pay for all the damage I’d done to his career.”
She held up her right arm. “This happened when I tried to push him out the door. He just—snapped it. He pushed me in and locked the door so we wouldn’t be ‘interrupted.’ Within five minutes, he had broken almost all the items in my living room, claiming that someone must have bought everything for me since I was too stupid to survive without him. Then he started in on me. I had edged my way towards the kitchen phone. He looked up from smashing my new television and noticed me. The bruises on my back are from one of my kitchen chairs.”
Todd’s hand tightened around hers, not painfully, but enough that it snapped Megan from her trance.
“Todd, I’m sorry.” She blinked again.
“Don’t!” he said quickly. “You’ve nothing to be sorry for. At least tell me the bastard is locked up for good.”
“Yes, for now. The trial is set for sometime late next month. My lawyer says I won’t have to testify. I try to imagine it was someone else’s life, like watching a movie, that it really didn’t happen to me. Then I move the wrong way and the pain comes back. I went to a counselor right after he was sentenced the first time. She helped me deal with a lot of the hurt. I felt as if it was all my fault. I would look around and see happy couples holding hands, kissing, and here I was, abused and torn down. What did I do wrong? Why did these other women get their happy ever after, and I got—well, not. It must be me, right? Derek would constantly tell me what was wrong with me. I didn’t think before I said something; I didn’t say it nicely enough or in the right tone. I had no sense of style, I didn’t walk feminine enough, or put on enough makeup, and then I put too much on and looked like a tramp and so on.”
“Stop! There isn’t a thing wrong with you.”
“I know. At least I’m beginning to understand it wasn’t me, it was him. At one point, my self-esteem was so low, I thought of hurting myself. Anything to make the pain stop. Every time I would think that way, I’d remember my father. Then I would think of Matt’s face and…well…I couldn’t leave him alone.”
“Why didn’t you ever tell Matt what was happening? You know he would have helped.”
“At first it was shame. Then it grew to something else. I don’t know. I guess I wanted him to be proud of me, and well, how can you expect someone to be proud of you when you’re not proud of yourself?”
“I think he would be very proud of you now. You’re a survivor. Just look at what you’ve done, what you survived. Not only are you starting your own business, you’re helping market a local artist. You’ve befriended the entire town. You’re not only the smartest woman I know, you happen to be the prettiest.” Todd stood and pulled her up to him, holding her tight against his chest. “It kills me to hear what you’ve gone through. I wish I could take it all away. Don’t ever doubt yourself, Megan. You’re incredible.”
Megan held on and smiled. It was nice to have someone believe in her. Life looked better in Todd’s arms. His muscles bunched in his back when she grabbed on to him. He felt powerful and she explored his back with her hands.
“I think you’re pretty incredible too,” she said against his chest.
“Shall we get going? These paintings won’t sell themselves.”
Megan pulled away, but before she could move, he captured her lips in a soft kiss. The kiss said so much that Megan was shaking when he finally moved away.
As they finished the short drive into the city, she couldn’t help but wonder about him. He’d made it very clear th
at he wanted her physically, but she had the feeling he kept a distance between them. Almost like he was unsure he could trust himself with her.
She’d only been in two serious relationships in her life; one had ended badly and the other had ended worse. She knew relationships could be good and there could be mutual gain. At least that was what most magazines said about them. She’d never experienced this firsthand and found it odd that a man could think of a woman as an equal in relationships. Derek had treated her more like his property. Her father had never really treated her mother like she was worth anything from what she could remember.
They finally pulled up in front of the Blue Spot Gallery. It sat on Main Street in an older part of Portland, a three-story brick building that was over a hundred years old. The Blue Spot Gallery and the surrounding buildings had been remodeled, so they looked classic. Long windows covered the front of the building. Several paintings hung in the left window, and a black-and-white picture of a child holding a tulip covered the other. The gallery was very impressive.
As they walked in, a woman in her fifties came over to them. She had her hair pulled up in a tight bun and wore a simple brown business suit. “Welcome to the Blue Spot Gallery. Is there anything in particular I can help you with today?”
“Yes, this is Megan Kimble, and I’m Todd Jordan. We’re here to see Mr. Derby.”
“Yes, Miss Kimble, Mr. Derby has been expecting you. Please feel free to look around while I inform him you’re here.” She walked over to a small desk and picked up a phone.
********
The art covering the walls ranged from exquisite to very odd. While Todd and Megan moved around, talking about some of the paintings, Ric watched the good-looking couple from above.
So, this was Megan Kimble? She was younger and prettier than he’d imagined. Because of this woman’s genius marketing plans, the Blue Spot Galleries had been able to expand all the way to New York. She’d worked quickly and efficiently, and he had a great deal of respect for her. He’d imagined her as a whirlwind of energy.
But now, standing in his gallery, she looked small and somewhat lost. The broken arm left her looking vulnerable. His assistant had told him that the man she was with was Mr. Todd Jordan. Ric had heard of him, the owner of Jordan Shipping. Ric used his company to ship paintings and some of the larger art pieces around the world.
But what was Megan Kimble doing with Todd Jordan? Just then, he saw Todd lean over and whisper something in Megan’s ear that made her giggle.
Instantly, he felt respect for the man. Megan Kimble had been through hell. Ric didn’t know the whole story, but Mr. Martin had explained why she hadn’t shown up for the conference in New York several years back. Ric had also heard the despair in her voice every time they talked over the phone.
He walked forward to greet the woman to whom he owed everything. “Megan?”
********
Megan turned to see a bronzed man in his late twenties. He was about six feet tall with neatly cut blond hair. He wore a black suit and a bright blue tie. She’d imagined he would look just like this.
His smooth voice had soothed her when there had been little hope in her life. In truth, she’d become very close to this man during the seven months they’d worked together over the phone. She’d had the opportunity to meet him in person once in New York, but she hadn’t ended up going due to a black eye and swollen lip.
“Ric, it’s so good to finally meet you,” Megan said, shaking his left hand. “This is Todd Jordan, my good friend and neighbor.”
“Mr. Jordan.” They shook hands as well, but Megan could see something spark in Ric’s eyes. “It’s a great pleasure to meet you. I’ve used your company for the last couple years with no complaints.”
“Thank you. It’s a lovely place you have here. Megan tells me you have several other galleries.”
“Yes, one in Seattle, two in California, one in New York. Won’t you come up to my office? We can have some refreshments.”
“Oh, that would be fine. I’ve brought those paintings we talked about. They’re out in the car,” Megan said.
“I’ll go grab them,” Todd said, starting out.
“So, Megan, tell me more about this bed-and-breakfast of yours.” Ric gently cupped her left elbow and started walking towards the stairs. By the time they reached the landing, Todd was starting up the stairs with several paintings tucked under his arm.
Once in the office, Ric motioned for her to sit. Taking the paintings from Todd, he set them down on an easel beside a desk.
“So, tell me about this artist,” he said as he stood in front of one of Allison’s paintings. It was a small portrait of a pixie that sat hunched over on a rock in a pond. Her wings were tucked down, and she stared at her reflection in the water. Megan thought she looked remarkably like Lacey.
“Well, she’s from Pride, and she works with oil, watercolors, charcoal, and pencil. I’ve only known her since I’ve been there, but I’ve purchased several of her pieces for my bed-and-breakfast.”
Ric moved from painting to painting. When Mrs. Barns came in with the tea, he continued to look at the painting. He hadn’t spoken, and the room sat silent for a few minutes. Then he abruptly sat behind his desk, his eyes still on the pixie.
“She has talent, that is clear. I’d like to meet her and see more of her work. I’m very interested in showing it. Does she have an agent?”
Megan was taken aback. “Really? I mean, wow, yes, no, I mean she doesn’t have an agent. Maybe you can suggest someone for her?”
Ric smiled. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I’ve several. First off, though, I would like to display these paintings in the gallery, if they are still available.”
“Oh, well, you’ll have to take that up with Allison. I’m just borrowing these.” Megan looked over at Todd. “You see, she doesn’t think anyone would be interested in her work.”
“I can assure you they will be. Actually, I’d like this one”—he said, pointing to the pixie by the pond—“for myself. I think I know a buyer for two of the other oils, and as for the watercolor, I’m sure it would sell within the first week. Do you happen to have Allison’s number? We’ll give her a quick call.”
Allison sounded shocked and excited over the phone. She agreed to meet with Ric next week at her store so he could take a look at the rest of her work. He gave her several names and numbers for some local agents and assured her he would have them contact her before next week.
By the time Todd and Megan walked out of the gallery, Megan’s head was spinning. Not only would Ric be displaying Allison’s artwork, but he’d arranged for a photographer by the name of Brad Stone to stop by later in the week to take professional pictures of the cabins for her. Ric had also suggested that she mail some of the completed brochures to him so he could post them in each of his galleries.
Because they no longer needed to hit the camera stores, they checked out some of the local sights. They hit a lot of shops and when they came to a little bookstore, Megan pulled Todd inside.
“I’ve been meaning to find some books.” Todd cringed a little but then relaxed when she took him to the home-improvement section. She chuckled to herself. He’d probably thought she was going to make him look at romance novels.
By the time they walked out, she had a stack of how-to books for gardening, painting, and deck and hot tub care. She had also picked up a picture book of Portland that she would put in one of the cabins and a beginner’s guide to sign language.
Megan had never felt so free. Never had she spent a more relaxed day. Todd was great company, and he didn’t complain about any of the little stores she dragged him into. By the time they headed back to the Jeep, they both had their hands full of bags.
Chapter Ten
The drive back was peaceful. They chatted about everything and nothing. The sun was setting when they finally drove up to the house and Todd parked the Jeep in the garage.
“When do you get your cast removed?” he as
ked, helping her into the house with her packages.
“It should come off in a few days. I’ll need to find a local doctor to remove it. Do you know of anyone?”
“Yes, Dr. Stevens has been the town’s doctor since before I was born. He patched up Iian and me more times than I can count. His office is across from the library. If you set an appointment, I can drive you down there.”
They walked into the house and were halfway across the living room before they realized Iian sat at the dining room table with a pile of papers spread out.
“Oh no, Iian! I’m sorry. I forgot about our meeting.” She looked over at Todd. “We were going to go over the new menus for the bed-and-breakfast.” Iian took one look at Todd and shoved up from the table, smiling.
“It’s all right. I understand,” he said, walking to the door. Halfway there, Megan caught up with him and pulled on his arm until he turned around.
“I’m truly sorry. We went into Portland to purchase a camera and, well, we dropped by a friend’s art gallery, and I guess I got so caught up in the day, I forgot about our meeting.”
“Megan,” he said, taking her hand in his, “you don’t have to explain. Why don’t we meet tomorrow afternoon? I’ve left a list of possible menu items on the table. Look them over and we can discuss them tomorrow.” He looked over her head at his brother and nodded with a funny smile. “Good night.” Then he was gone.