by Amy Faye
"What, where are you..." Sarah's head swiveled in his peripheral vision as he passed the next exit.
"Monroe," he answered. "I'm not about to get in the way of someone going to pay their respects, am I?" She went quiet at that. "So what's the situation with the car? Do you have a tow coming, or..."
Sarah was quiet for a long time. Long enough that he decided she wasn't going to answer him.
"What happened? Everything alright? Do you know what the problem is?"
"The problem is that it's an eighty-five. It's older than I am. Anything else is just getting technical," she said. Dismissive.
"Smoke?"
"No smoke."
"Okay. And what happened? The car just died?"
"Yeah," she confirmed. "Just up and quit on me at eighty miles an hour."
"Oof."
"Yeah."
He chanced a look over. They had a little while to go before they were going to reach Monroe.
"So you want to tell me what happened between you and the guy, or is that being too forward?"
"It's all ancient history," she said. "Stuff that happened forever ago."
"So he's not the father?"
"He's the father."
"Oh," Dan said, like it made sense. It didn't. The kids couldn't have been more than a few months. Not even toddlers, really. So nothing was 'ancient history' where they were concerned, as far as he could tell.
"So are you two..."
"No, we're not. Ancient history, like I said." There was an edge of anger in her voice. He wrote it off as her being angry about whatever had happened.
"So what are their names, if you don't mind my asking? We've got a little bit of a drive ahead of us, so I figured..."
"Allison and Chelsea. You were carrying Chelsea."
"Oh yeah? Girls, huh?"
"Two little darlings. Just give them a few years, and then they become really darling."
The tone in her voice said that in a few years, whatever happened it wasn't going to be 'darling' at all. But he took it with good humor, which he assumed was how he was supposed to take it.
"So what is it that you do, Sarah Jones?"
"I'm a teacher. Instructor. I don't know any more. I teach knitting."
"Oh yeah?"
"It pays the bills, I guess."
"Good money?"
"Not really," she said. "And it doesn't really pay the bills, either. But hey, as long as I keep my expenses low..." She trailed off and then only after she'd been silent for a few seconds did she seem to realize that she'd been complaining. "Not that any of that is important."
Dan let out a breath. "I get you, though. Not a good time."
"I mean, it wasn't like it was a big deal, nine months ago. I was living with Cole, you met him, and things were pretty good. The teaching was just a side thing. Gave me a little spending money on the side."
"If you don't want to tell me, then you don't have to tell me. I'm not going to bully you on it."
"It's fine," she said. He could hear defeat in her voice. Maybe she would do, as far as choices went. "I got myself into trouble. I guess he had a part in it too, if you get my meaning, but I should have known better. He seemed to think that there were easier solutions to our problems than having the girls. I wasn't exactly a fan of his so-called 'solutions.' In the end, that was where things turned south."
"So that in the courthouse today..."
"I don't know, and I don't want to know. My best guess, he thinks that now that I've had the girls, I can go back to being his little..." she made a face, and he glanced over to look at it. She looked like she'd sucked on a lemon. "Whore, or whatever."
"Would you?"
"He doesn't want the girls. They're just trouble for him. He wanted me to get rid of them before. Why should this time be any different?"
"Do you mind if I give my opinion?"
"No, I guess not. I mean, I've already told you the whole thing, you might as well have an opinion, right?"
"It sounds like he's a real fucking twerp," Dan said, and then as an afterthought, "sorry about the language in front of the girls."
"They're still too young to know the difference," Sarah told him dismissively. "You're fine."
"Of everything in the world, the way I figure it, the one thing you can never do is tell a woman she shouldn't keep her kids. Anything else, and that's between the two of you, right? But between her and the kids? Nothing."
They drove on in silence a little while. "Of course, what the hell do I know? I'm no saint myself, either."
"Oh yeah? Here I was thinking you sounded like a decent guy."
"That's how I get them," he said. He watched the road tick by. Monroe, five miles. If things went the way that they were lining up in his head, it was how he was going to get her, too. But at least he wasn't going to lie about it like the other guy.
5
It had been a long time since Sarah had felt a man's eyes on her. She tried to keep herself composed, tried not to look at him too hard, but it was difficult.
She was used to a different kind of man altogether, if she were honest. Cole was short for his family, and wiry. Small. His father was short, too. The height came from the wife's side, and she had a way of looking down at people, regardless of their height, but luckily for Sarah she was both short and beneath Caroline, so the woman had delighted in her petty bullshit.
Dan didn't seem like he was looking down on her, at least not compared to Robert, and not compared to Cole, which wasn't exactly a high standard for a man to have to meet. Then again, a car like this one, and a man might have a right to look down, just a little bit. And she did owe him, that much was clear.
He looked again. She pretended she didn't notice, and ignored the fluttering feeling that opened up in her belly. She wasn't anyone special, certainly wasn't that good looking. She still hadn't lost most of her baby belly at this point, and with how things were going, she wasn't exactly in a position to spend the time in the gym to get rid of it once and for all.
"What?"
"I was just thinking," he said. His eyes focused back on the road, which allowed her to stealthily shift her eyes back over to him. He was tall. As tall as anyone she'd ever met. Big, too. Broad in every place she could see, at least. He looked like he could have been a football player back in college. Hell, he looked like he could have been a football player now.
"What about?"
"I shouldn't say. It'd be rude."
An idea of something that he shouldn't say, something rude, flashed into Sarah's mind, and her face flushed. She wasn't that kind of girl. At least, she didn't think she was. Then again, if Cole had taught her anything, it was that she was what she had to be.
"I mean, unless it's really very rude, you don't have to keep quiet for my sake."
"Well, I was just thinking that, in a sense, this means you owe me a favor, kind of, doesn't it?"
"I'm not that kind of girl," she said, cutting off the thought before he got it really rolling. "If you're looking for that, then I can just get a taxi home."
"Please," he said. Annoyance touched his voice. "I'm not going to ask you to lean over and pay for your ride or something. It's not quite that inappropriate."
"No? Then what?"
"I need something. A woman's help with something."
"And what's that?"
"Hear me out before you say anything, alright?"
"Okay," she said. She waited for him to say something that was going to offend her. That, or she waited for him to say something about her body, which was more flattering than she let on, in a way, but at the same time, less flattering than she would have liked.
"I've got a little bit of a public relations problem," he started, and Sarah raised an eyebrow. What this had to do with her, she had honestly no idea. But she decided to wait and see. What was the worst that could happen?
"Okay," she said. Same as he'd said it earlier. 'Continue' mixed with 'what?'
"And I need a woman's help with it."
"Okay. I'm sure you have plenty of women around, if you're worried about 'public relations problems.'"
"I do. Perhaps a dozen that work directly under me, though there are at least as many men. Half of them married off, half of the rest in relationships, and the last few not looking for one."
"So you need a relationship?"
"It's complicated. Like I said, listen before you try to figure it out."
"Okay, then, I'll shut up."
He eased the car over towards the right-hand lane. "So the trouble is, I'd like to buy some land from the city. The city wants to look good. That's common sense, right? Hell, I assume we all do, but some people have to worry about it a little more than others."
"Sure," Sarah agreed. Though it didn't exactly apply to her, not any more. She was apparently a gold-digging whore who would do anything for money as long as they were paying. But at least, in theory, she might have been worried about her public appearance, once upon a time, before it had been ruined forever.
"Well, the trouble is, I can't exactly appear on television like this, can I? Single guy, nobody there with me. I'm a perfectly normal guy, normal urges, but the second someone whispers 'do you think he's gay,' then my career's about over."
"Are you?"
"Am I what?"
"Gay."
He took a long look at her. She chanced a look back. He was smiling in the sort of amused way that he might have if a stranger on the street had asked him if they could borrow his car real quick.
"No," he said flatly. And then he turned back to the road, took exit number thirteen to Monroe, and slowed way down to meet the reduced speed limit. "I'm not."
"So what's the problem?"
"The problem is, how exactly am I going to prove it? It's not like I have a girlfriend. Don't really want one right now. I've got other stuff on my mind."
"And I play into this..."
"The easiest answer is to start wearing a wedding ring. The problem comes in when someone does the tiniest bit of digging, finds out that it's a prop, and then that's a big old scandal all by itself, am I right?"
"I guess you're not wrong."
"So the answer is pretty obvious, I figure."
She thought the answer seemed obvious, too. The obvious answer was to ignore it. Fuck what people thought.
"Okay."
"So you're in?"
"I'm sorry, I think I wasn't clear. What am I 'in' for?"
"Oh, I'm sorry. I guess it wasn't as obvious as I thought. I need a ring, and I need someone who digs to find something. I hope it's not offensive of me to say, but you look like you need money. That car was waiting to die, like you said. You don't look like you're in a position to buy a new one, not on a teacher's salary. I need a woman who'll be my wife, and not ask too many questions, not look bad in front of the press. You need money. You see where I'm going with this?"
She was silent a long time. They made a right turn, then a left, then another right, and then another left. The buildings whizzed by, one by one, until they were in front of a cemetery. She let out a long breath. "I won't be long," she said. "Just five minutes."
Then she eased out of the comfortable leather seats, unbuckled the restraints on the car seats, and held her girls, one on each hip. The sun had dropped behind some clouds, and the scant trees offered a little bit of protection from what sun was left.
Allison fussed and reached for her breast. This wasn't exactly the time. Nor the place. Nor the company. But it was a long drive back home, and at some point, the girls were going to have to eat. In her mind, she knew that. But she didn't have anything bottled with her, and she wasn't about to pull them right out in the middle of the damn cemetery.
So she knelt down in front of her mother's grave, said a little prayer, and left again. There would be more chances to come back. Times when she could be a little more respectful.
Then she walked back to the Bentley, still idling on the little driving path that ran between the headstones, and leaned down to look through the window. Dan looked back at her, and a moment later, the window eased down with no sound other than the motor.
"Hey, I'm sorry, I've got one more little thing."
"Shoot."
"The girls are hungry, and..."
"Oh," he said simply. Maybe a little surprised.
"If you don't mind, I would really appreciate it if I could just sit in the car."
He nodded and reached across, his finger hooking into the car door handle. The door flipped out just enough for Sarah to catch it with her foot, and then she pulled it open a little further.
She tried to decide whether or not it was polite to tell him to turn away, decided it wasn't. He looked away anyways, but she still leaned away, lifted her shirt, and a moment later two mouths were latched onto her, and eating their fill. It was going to be a few minutes, and she was... mostly covered. So she eased back into the seat, closed her eyes, and waited for the girls to relax. It had been a long day for all three of them, now. Too long to worry about whether or not a guy caught a little side-boob.
6
Dan sat and tried not to look. He wanted to, and that was the worst part of it. The wanting. If he'd been ambivalent, and accidentally caught a glimpse, it would mean absolutely nothing at all. But wanting to see made it something altogether different.
He reminded himself that it was perfectly natural. All of it, from top to bottom. It was perfectly natural for the girls to be hungry, and not only natural but admirable, these days, to feed them naturally, without some other company coming along and telling you what should be in your baby's food.
Wanting to look was natural, too. But it was also rude, so he didn't. Though he was sorely tempted.
"So have you given it any thought?"
Sarah sighed somewhere on the other side of the car, the part where he wasn't looking.
"Why me?"
"No reason," he said. It wasn't a complete lie, either. There was nothing particular about her that made her uniquely suited. She was pretty, but there were plenty of pretty girls. He wasn't making the offer to any of them. She needed the money, but there were plenty of people who needed the money. Even plenty of people who needed the money and happened to be attractive women.
But he wasn't making the offer to any of them. Just to her.
"What would be expected of me?"
"I'd need you to be available."
"Would I be staying at my place?"
"No, that wouldn't look good."
"And as far as the rest of married life?"
He let out a long breath. The temptation to look was big, and having a second temptation only make him feel worse about the whole thing. He knew the right answer, and he knew that he was smart enough and strong enough to give it. But it didn't stop him wanting things to be different.
"What about it?"
"Am I expected to fulfill any other duties as your wife?"
Dan's stomach felt bad in his gut. Too much wrong going on. The question was a fair one, but he knew the answer he wanted to give, and he knew the answer that he should be giving, and he knew that they weren't nearly as similar as they should be.
"Why, do you want to?"
She didn't answer that.
"I'm not asking you to do anything you're uncomfortable with. Is that clear enough?"
"It'll do," she said. It wasn't much of an answer, but it was something. At that point, it was about all that he could ask of her.
Then she fell silent for another long time. He waited, looking out the window.
"I'll think about it," she said finally. Her voice was low, almost a whisper. "How soon do you need a decision?"
"The sooner the better," he said back. Her elbow dug into his arm as she moved beside him, and when he turned without thinking for a second he found himself looking at her bare midriff as she lowered her shirt. He jerked back to looking out the window.
"One minute, I'll be right back once they're in their seats."
"Yeah," he said. Hi
s throat was tight. The flash of milky white skin had been enough to make his head feel downright hazy. Two minutes later they were back on the road, going forty miles an hour back towards the interstate.
Dan drove in silence, and as far as he could tell, Sarah had nothing to say, either. So they were left in their thoughts. He kept his eyes on the road. The less he looked at her, the less he was going to have to think about all the thoughts that were running through his head every time he looked at her.
He wouldn't have to think about those breasts of hers, or those hips, or how damned tempted he was by just a little slip of perfectly innocuous skin.
"There's something I want. A stipulation."
"Shoot."
"It's going to be a real marriage. You don't get to walk away when things get convenient, and dump me on the side of the road."
His eyes shifted across the car.
"What, you mean like a lifetime business partnership?"
"If that's what you want," Sarah said.
"Or did you mean like a husband and a wife, with all the things that entailed?"
"I'm not offering to sell you my body. I'm just saying. I'm not going to get married for a little money. If you're asking me to marry you, sight unseen, then I'll agree. But I'm not going to have someone looking at me like I'm expendable. I may need the money, but I'm not that desperate. I'll figure my own stuff out if that's how it's going to be."
Dan looked at her and for a moment he almost saw the flicker of something inside her. Something that surprised him. But then he frowned. There was more to a marriage than just that.
"What else? There's going to be a prenup, of course, for one thing."
"Then I'm going to keep veto power, or I'm going to walk away."
He cursed internally. There was part of him that thought he liked a tough woman; there was another part that hated to be talked back to, and those two parts of his psyche were warring in his mind.
"Anything else?"
"That's it, I think." She gave it an instant before she spoke again. "Wait. One more thing."
"I'm not going to just agree to anything without being told what it is, I'll tell you that right now."