Stuart removed his napkin from his lap and placed it on the table next to his plate. “Good to see you, George.” He glanced up at the man and then flashed Francine a broad smile. “Yes, Francine is a very good friend.”
George huffed. “Then you might consider being more selective in your choice of friends.”
“That’s enough, George,” Stuart said, standing. “Either you apologize right now or you leave. Better yet, why don’t you apologize first and then leave.”
George sneered at Francine. “I apologize for interrupting your meal, Stuart, but let me give you a word of advice. Once a murderer, always a murderer. I’d think somebody being considered for the Georgia Supreme Court would have better judgment.”
“George—” Stuart warned.
“I’m leaving,” he said. “Enjoy your meal. If you can.”
Stuart watched him stalk off and then took his seat. “I’m sorry about that,” he said. “George was way out of line. Does he get in your face this way often?”
“Don’t apologize for him.” Francine was more concerned about George’s unspoken threat. Something told her that he’d been intentional and purposeful in bringing up the Georgia Supreme Court. “I’m sorry he caused a scene,” she said. “What was he talking about with the Georgia Supreme Court?”
Stuart placed his napkin back on his lap and picked up a roll. Breaking it in half, he said, “I’ve been approached about a possible seat on the court. Nothing’s been announced yet, but presumably it will be soon.”
“Congratulations, Stuart!” she said. “What an honor! I can’t think of a more deserving person. I know you’ll do well on the bench. We need people like you making those kinds of decisions and judgments.”
“Thanks,” Stuart said. “But it’s not official yet. I’m not even supposed to be talking about it until it’s announced. George was way out of line to bring it up the way he did.”
“How did he know? Is he involved in the selection and nomination process?”
Stuart shook his head. “Not that I know of. But he’s served in the Georgia legislature for a long while now, so he has quite a few connections. I’m not surprised he knows.”
The waiter came, removed their salad plates, and replaced them with the main course. After he was gone, Francine asked, “Can George cause trouble for you?”
“Why would he?” Stuart asked. “But to answer your question, no. The Lord opened the door and only the Lord can close it.”
Francine heard his words and knew he was right, but she still worried about George. Was she making too much out of what he’d said? Stuart turned her attention back to the present when he asked about her week at work, and they spent the rest of dinner swapping amusing stories about happenings on their respective jobs.
Later, as Stuart escorted her to her front door, he said, “You’ve been quiet. Is something wrong?”
She shook her head. She didn’t want to tell him she couldn’t get George’s interruption out of her head. He’d only tell her not to worry about it. “Nothing’s wrong,” she said. “I had a good time tonight. Thanks again.”
He grinned down at her. “Stop thanking me,” he said. “It wasn’t actually a hardship for me to take an attractive and intelligent woman to dinner. I should be thanking you. I had a very good time too.”
“You sound surprised.”
“Maybe I am,” he said.
She chuckled. “Don’t go overboard on the flattery, Stuart, I don’t think my ego can take it.”
He laughed with her. “That’s not what I meant. I haven’t done this since Marie died. I haven’t wanted to do it.”
“I understand,” she said.
He shook his head. “I don’t think you do, because I don’t think I did until this moment.”
He leaned toward her and Francine knew he meant to kiss her. She turned her head to the side so that his lips missed hers and pressed against her cheek.
He stepped back from her. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I thought—”
“Don’t apologize, Stuart,” she said. “You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just that I can’t let myself get involved with you when you’re not over your wife. I’ve had too many disappointments lately. I can’t deliberately set myself up for another one.”
“I wouldn’t hurt you, Francine.”
“I know you wouldn’t intend to, but my heart could be broken all the same.” She inclined her head down to his wedding ring. “Your heart’s not free, Stuart. It still belongs to Marie. Let’s work on friendship for now.”
“For now,” he repeated.
Chapter 22
On Sunday morning, Francine exited the ladies’ room at Faith Central and was about to make her way back to the sanctuary when she bumped into George. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” she said, without thinking. “Or you’ve got to stop hanging around outside bathroom doors. You’re going to get a bad reputation if you don’t watch it.”
She moved to step around him, but he grabbed her arm. “You think you’re so funny,” he said. “You always did have a smart mouth. Always knew better than everybody else.”
She tried to ease her arm away, but George held on. She was about to snatch her arm out of his grip when another woman headed for the bathroom. Not wanting to cause a scene, she smiled at the woman. “Let me go,” she bit out after the woman entered the bathroom.
He leaned his mouth so close to her ear that she could feel his hot breath on her skin. “My sister is dead and you’re living life like you’ll live forever. You’ve gotten in good with Mother Harris, everybody here at the church, and now you’ve set your sights on Stuart Rogers. I bet you’re thinking marriage and children, aren’t you? Stuart’s a good catch, I have to admit.”
She struggled against him. “I don’t want to hear this, George. Let me go.”
“Don’t get too pleased with yourself.” He tightened his hold on her arm. “I can guarantee you this thing with Stuart isn’t going to last.”
“That’s none of your business.”
He gave a harsh laugh. “Oh, but it is. I think the selection committee for the next Georgia Supreme Court justice would be pretty interested to know that their top candidate is dating a cultist murderer. It should make for good headlines. For the opposition.”
“You’re not serious, are you? What’s Stuart done to you?” she asked.
“This isn’t about Stuart. It’s about you trying to have the life my sister will never have. If you care about Stuart, and I’m not sure you do, you’ll walk away from him so he can have his future. If you don’t, I guarantee you his candidacy for the court will be quashed amid a flurry of rumor and conjecture.”
“Do you hate me that much?”
George looked at her for a long minute. “I hate you more.” He let go of her arm and strode back toward the sanctuary. Francine turned, almost bumping into the woman leaving the bathroom, and went inside. She stood by the sink and covered her face with her hands. Why, Lord? she asked. Why was the past reaching out to destroy her future? Why was it reaching out to destroy Stuart’s future? What was she supposed to do?
“Francine,” a soft voice called.
She looked up and saw LaDonna. “Hey, girl,” she said, forcing a smile on her lips.
“Did George say something to you?” LaDonna asked. Francine considered lying because it was easier, but she nodded her head in assent.
“What did he say? I knew something was up when he left the sanctuary right after you did.”
“He really hates me, LaDonna,” Francine said. “I knew it, but I think I never understood the depth of it until today. He hates me so much that he says he’ll hurt other people to get back at me. Do you think he’d really do it—hurt somebody else to get revenge on me?”
LaDonna looked away. “At one time, I would have said no, but he’s changed, Francine. I can’t say what he would and wouldn’t do.”
“What do your instincts tell you?”
LaDonna sighed deeply. “I wou
ldn’t put anything past him if it meant a way for him to hurt you. He wants you to pay for Toni’s death. It’s an obsession with him.” She lifted her shoulders in a slight shrug. “He couldn’t get that Bishop Payne or that church, so he’s set his sights on you. He needs to make somebody pay and you’re the closest target.”
“You were right, LaDonna,” Francine said. “I shouldn’t have come back here. I’ve only caused trouble.”
“I’m still willing to give you some money to help you get settled someplace else,” LaDonna said. “I know it’s not fair, not right, but I love George and I’m going to stand by him.”
“Even if he ruins Stuart in the process of trying to get back at me?”
LaDonna nodded. “But I don’t want that to happen. Do us all a favor and leave town. It’d be best for Sly and Dawn, too. We all know they’re having problems, and your staying there can’t be helping them. If you won’t leave for George’s sake, then do it for your sister.” As strands of music from the choir filtered into the bathroom, LaDonna looked at her watch. “Think about what I’ve said,” she said. “It’s best for everybody concerned.” She leaned over and gave Francine a quick hug. “I’m sorry it has to be this way.” Then she turned and left the bathroom.
Francine stood there quietly for a few minutes and then decided she needed to get some fresh air. She took a slow turn around the church parking lot, her mind filled with questions: What was she going to do? Where was she going to go? How would she support herself? By the time she returned to the front of the sanctuary, people were coming out the doors. Stuart stopped her just as she was about to go inside and get her purse.
“Hi,” she said.
“Hi yourself. It’s good to see you.”
She gave him the smile she thought he wanted. “You too.”
“Hey, a couple of friends of mine, Nate and CeCe Richardson—I told you about them. They run Genesis House.”
“I remember.”
“They’re throwing a big party for the teen fathers’ and teen mothers’ groups on Saturday. Since you got along so well with the boys, I thought you might like to attend. You’d also get to meet Nate and CeCe.”
It sounded like a wonderful idea. Francine would love to meet the couple who ran such a unique ministry, but she wasn’t sure she should go. Stuart’s wedding ring was an obstacle to a romance between them, and now it seemed George’s threat was an obstacle to their friendship. Who was she kidding? Any sort of relationship with Stuart was impossible, since she was leaving town. “I don’t think so, Stuart.”
“We’d go as friends, Francine,” he said, correctly reading a portion of the cause for her reluctance. “I’m not asking for more.”
“I know,” she said, “but I still don’t think it’s a good idea for us to start going places together. People will get the wrong idea.”
“Maybe you’re right,” he said. “But I still want you to come. If I give you directions, will you come on your own?”
She nodded because it was easier. “I’ll think about it.”
“If that’s the best I can do, I’ll take it. Wait here while I get some paper. I want to make sure you have all the information before you leave.”
~ ~ ~
Sitting in his courthouse chambers on Friday morning, Stuart twisted the wedding ring on his left hand, his thoughts on Francine. He’d been thinking a lot about her and the wedding ring since their date—yes, he now knew it was a date—to see Sister Betty a week ago. What did he want from her—friendship or something more?
His office door opened. “The judge is here,” his clerk said.
“Thanks, Matt.” Stuart stood to meet Judge Mac. He greeted him at the door and led him to the corner chairs where they’d sat the first time the older man had come to visit. “Judge,” Stuart said, extending a hand to the older man. “I was surprised to get your call this morning.”
After shaking Stuart’s hand, Judge Mac sat down. “I’m not going to mince words with you, Stuart,” he said. “I assume you know George Roberts.”
Stuart nodded. “Very well.”
“Is there anything you need to tell me about that relationship?”
Stuart frowned. “What do you mean?”
“George has been making calls this week and one of them weaved its way back to me, which was probably his goal.”
“I’m not following you, Judge.”
Judge Mac met his gaze. “George Roberts is trying to derail your nomination.”
Stuart sat back in his chair. “You must be mistaken. Why would George do something like that?”
“That’s what I wanted to ask you.”
Stuart shook his head. “I can’t believe it. Is there any possibility you’re mistaken?”
It was Judge Mac’s turn to shake his head. “None.” He paused. “Stuart, when you enter politics at the level you’re entering it, the stakes are high and nothing’s off limits. Your personal life is not something you can keep personal. Your entire life is an open book. If our opponents can find anything in your past, your present, or your future that can embarrass you or the governor, they’ll use it.”
“And you think they’ve found something? George has given them something?”
“It hasn’t gone that far yet. On the surface, George’s statements could be viewed as a warning from a political ally of possible trouble ahead, but my gut tells me it’s more than that.” He eyed Stuart. “Have you recently gotten involved with a woman?”
Stuart was about to say no and then he thought of Francine. How would he describe their relationship? “What have you heard?” he asked, instead of answering the question.
“That you’re involved with some woman who was involved in a Jim Jones—type cult that led to a young woman’s death.”
“Francine,” Stuart murmured, more to himself than to Judge Mac.
Judge Mac sighed. “So you do know this woman?”
He nodded. “We’re friends. We go to the same church.”
“Is what George said about her true?”
“It’s probably a good spin on the truth. The perfect sound bite. Unfortunately, the truth requires an explanation that can’t be boiled down to a single sound bite.”
“Why don’t you try explaining it to me? I’ve been at this a lot longer than you have. There could be a sound bite in it after all.”
Stuart gave Judge Mac a truncated version of Francine’s decision to leave town five years ago and the events that led to her return home. When he was finished, Judge Mac sighed. “Poor girl.”
Stuart was heartened by his reaction.
“But you’re right,” Judge Mac continued, “the explanation is too complex. Takes too many words. People don’t want to hear it” He met Stuart’s gaze. “How serious is this relationship?”
“We’re friends.”
The corner of the older man’s mouth turned up in a smile. “Are you sure it isn’t more than that? I can tell you care about the woman from the way you talked about her.”
Stuart remembered the aborted kiss. “It could grow into something more,” he admitted, “but right now we’re friends.”
Judge Mac sat back in his chair. “Then we have a problem, Stuart.” Stuart opened his mouth to respond, but Judge Mac held up a hand to stop him. “Hear me out,” he said. “I didn’t say it was a problem we couldn’t handle.”
The notion of his friendship with Francine being a problem didn’t sit well on Stuart’s shoulders, but he kept his thoughts to himself.
“There are a couple of ways we could handle this,” Judge Mac explained. “The best would be for you to put this relationship on hold until after the election.” He peered over his glasses at Stuart. “The worst would be for us to tough it out, since that would mean your friend’s life would become fodder for our opponents and ultimately the press.”
Stuart pressed his fingers against his nose. “So my options are to give up my friendship with Francine or have her name scandalously dragged through the papers? I have to tell yo
u, Judge, neither option appeals to me.”
“I didn’t think they would,” Judge Mac admitted, “but you needed to know. We have our people looking into the situation and what happened. Maybe there’s another spin we can put on it.”
“I hear a but in there somewhere.”
Judge Mac sighed. “Unfortunately, there is. You were so attractive to us, Stuart, because we didn’t think we’d have to worry about these kinds of issues with you. Your record speaks for itself, but today people not only care about what goes on in the office, they also want to know what goes on at home. That makes your friend an issue.”
“Are you telling me that I could lose the appointment because of this?” Stuart asked. In asking, he realized how much the judgeship had come to mean to him.
“I know it doesn’t sound fair, but it’s a possibility. This is a religiously conservative state. Unfortunately, our opponents could spin your friend’s background in worse ways than George did. Right now, you’re still our man, but I’d be lying if I said we didn’t have some concerns.”
“I see.”
“I hope so.” Judge Mac studied Stuart for a long moment. “Is this relationship that important to you? If you had to choose between your friend and a seat on the bench—”
“Don’t even ask, Judge,” Stuart said. “I couldn’t do that to a friend, not after what she’s been through. When you first came to me with the possibility of a seat on the bench, you said you wanted me for the man I was. Well, I wouldn’t be that man if I walked away from a friendship. I don’t think I’d like myself very much if I did that.”
Judge Mac was unfazed. “How much will you like yourself if you lose a seat on the highest court in the state of Georgia because of a friendship? Is one person really more important than the thousands of people, millions of people, that you could impact on the bench? Why don’t you think about that? Talk it over with your friend. Maybe she’ll decide you two can put your relationship on hold until you get the seat.”
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