Evening Hours

by Mary Lynn Baxter

  “Hold your ‘buts’ for later,” Angel said. “In the meantime, just be grateful. This is the first anyone’s been willing to suggest that Jenkins trades dismissals for sexual favors.”

  “You’re right. And that’s a start.”

  Angel looked at his watch. “I’ve got an appointment. I’ll holler later.”

  Cutler didn’t move for the longest time after Angel left, though he should have grabbed the folder off the top of his file. What the hell? Who was to say he couldn’t close up shop early? He should use the time to meet with his campaign adviser, Rory Dunlap, to discuss strategy against Winston Gilmore.

  Thinking about his opponent made him realize they would meet that evening at a bar association shindig. Cutler would rather have had a root canal than go, but he didn’t really have any choice. Functions were part of his job. He’d given Julia the heads-up several weeks ago. He’d much rather have taken Kaylee, but it was too late to back out on Julia now.

  Besides, he doubted if Kaylee would’ve gone for a lot of different reasons. Cutler’s thoughts turned pensive. Kaylee was a puzzle to him. No doubt there was chemistry between them. He knew she felt it, too. He also knew she didn’t like that attraction, that it made her uncomfortable.

  He made her uncomfortable. Men made her uncomfortable.

  In that arena of her life, she had no confidence. But God, she was lovely to look at, lovely to touch. Just thinking about her made him hard. All the more reason to run like hell, he told himself. Anyway, she wasn’t the kind of woman he could have casual sex with, no strings attached. He suspected if he had a taste of her body, he wouldn’t want to haul.

  That was the problem. He’d told her he wasn’t letting her off the hook. Maybe he should, for his own self-preservation. He didn’t want any emotional entanglements. He just wasn’t ready. As he had told his mother, maybe he never would be.

  “Excuse me.”

  Startled, Cutler lifted his head. A strange man stood in his doorway. “Yes?” he asked in a guarded tone, wondering how he’d gotten past reception.

  As if the tall, gangly man could read his thoughts, he said, “I waited until your receptionist was away from the desk.”

  An alarm went off inside Cutler. Was he some crazy off the street who had an ax to grind against him? More than likely. Any minute now, Cutler expected to see a gun pointed at his head. He braced himself.

  “What do you want?” Cutler asked when the stranger remained stationary and quiet, almost embarrassed.

  “A minute of your time.”

  “I was about to leave,” Cutler said pointedly.

  “I’m sorry to delay you.”

  He didn’t sound at all sorry. “Look, Mr.—”

  “Benton. Edgar Benton.”

  Cutler felt his mouth go slack. “Are you related to Kaylee Benton?”

  “She’s my daughter.”

  Relief washed through Cutler, then he tensed again. “Has something happened to her?”

  “No, she’s fine. But I appreciate your concern.”

  Cutler frowned, growing more puzzled by the second. “What can I do for you, Mr. Benton?”

  “Call me Edgar.”

  Cutler nodded.

  “Mind if I sit down?”

  Cutler felt he had no choice but to say yes. “Of course not.”

  “Thanks.”

  A silence fell over the room before Edgar finally broke it. “I guess there’s no way to say this but to say it.”

  Cutler’s frown deepened. “I’m listening.”

  Another silence.

  Edgar cleared his throat. “I think it’s in your best interests to marry my daughter.”

  Sixteen

  Cutler was dumbfounded as he tried to process what Edgar Benton had just said. No one in this day and time, at least not in this country, arranged a marriage, for chrissake.

  “Surely I didn’t hear you right.”

  “You heard me, all right,” Edgar said with confidence. “But if you want me to repeat what I said, I’ll be glad to.”

  “What I want is for you to leave.”

  “Only way you’re going to get rid of me is to physically toss me out on my ear.”

  Not a bad idea, Cutler thought. And for a second he was tempted to do just that. However, common sense prevailed, and with as much cool as he could muster, he asked, “Does Kaylee know you’re here?”

  A flush tinted Edgar’s face. “No.”

  “Didn’t think so.”

  “That doesn’t change anything.” Edgar’s tone was tinged with belligerence.

  “Look, Mr. Benton…”

  “My request is nonnegotiable.”

  Cutler felt his temper rise. He couldn’t believe he was even party to this weird conversation. He shoved a hand through his hair before narrowing his eyes back on his unwelcome guest. “You gotta be daft, man.”

  “You’ll see things differently when you hear me out.”

  “The only reason you’re not out the door is because of Kaylee.”

  “That’s what I was counting on,” Edgar responded without so much as a blink.

  Cutler had to hand it to the man—he had balls. “Spit it out,” he said, not bothering to hide his frustration.

  Edgar nodded. “I have information that will bring harm to your family, especially your mother, and it could, in fact, cost her her pastorate.” He paused significantly. “If you don’t comply, that is.”

  “No one threatens me, Benton, and gets away with it. If you keep on spitting out this nonsense, Kaylee or not, you’re out of here.”

  Edgar didn’t so much as move a muscle. Instead, he went on in his same calm, methodical voice, “You told me to spit it out. That’s what I’m trying to do.”

  In spite of efforts not to be taken in by anything this man said, curiosity had gotten the better of Cutler. Hell, he’d indulged Benton this far; he might as well hear him out. If he could hang on to his temper for that long, that is.

  “Get on with it.” Cutler bit out the words tersely.

  “Trevor is not your real father.”

  Cutler snorted. “Is that cockamamie story the best you can do?”

  “It’s the truth.”

  “You’re full of shit, too.”

  Edgar remained stoic, adding more fuel to Cutler’s now raging temper. But two could play this game. He could be as stoic and emotionless as anyone, especially when it suited his purpose. It definitely suited his purpose.

  “I have proof.”

  “You’re a damned liar.”

  “I don’t lie.” It was obvious from Edgar’s tone that he took umbrage at that personal attack.

  “Says you.” Cutler’s tone was hard with impatience. “But that’s not how I see it. And right now I’m the one who counts.”

  “I told you I have proof.”

  “Okay, let’s say you do, or you think you do. Just how are you privy to such information?” Cutler made a point of sounding insulting, suddenly tired of letting this man jerk his chain.

  “I stumbled on it by accident.”

  “Sure you did.”

  “You can insult me all you want to,” Edgar said in that same tone. “But it’s not going to change the facts.”

  “Ah, the facts, as you know them to be.”

  Edgar’s chin tipped. “That’s right. And whether you want to admit it or not, I’m the one holding all the cards.”

  An expletive exploded through Cutler’s lips before he smiled a humorless smile. “For now, I’ll play your silly little game and ask the question that you’re dying to answer. So who is my real father?” That last sentence came out a smirk.

  “Drew Rush.”

  Cutler’s jaw literally dropped, rendering him totally speechless.

  “He’s your birth father.”

  This time shock kept Cutler from saying anything. He simply sat there, reeling. The Drew Rush he knew? The businessman who had a reputation for sticking his nose in every pie in town? That couldn’t be; it was just a croc
k of crap. Cutler didn’t know where Benton’s information had come from, nor did he care. All he cared about was shutting him up and getting him out of his sight.

  Although he didn’t know the man personally, the thought of Rush’s blood running through his veins was so off the wall he couldn’t begin to grasp it.

  “To repeat myself,” Edgar said into the hostile silence, “I have the proof to back up my words. Documented proof, no less.”

  Cutler felt his own blood thunder through his body with such force that he had to fight down the urge to attack. He ached to knock the breath out of the old man so he’d know just how it felt to be sucker punched in the belly. But again he refrained from resorting to violence, partly because his gut told him there might be some truth to what the old man was saying.

  No one could make up a story like that.

  “Unless you marry Kaylee, I’ll go public with that information.”

  Cutler’s stomach roiled, and for a moment he feared he might puke. “I’ll see you in hell first.”

  Edgar didn’t back down. He jutted his chin another notch. “I may very well end up there, but not until my daughter’s taken care of.”

  “And you think marrying me will do that?”

  “I know she cares about you.”

  Cutler shook his head to clear it, thinking he was losing his grip altogether. He had to be, to sit there and discuss anything so preposterous. “Did she tell you that?”

  “No.”

  “Did she tell somebody and they told you?”

  “No. Not that I know of, anyway.”

  “Then how the hell can you speak for your daughter?”

  “Because she won’t speak for herself.”

  “Maybe that’s because she doesn’t want to.”

  “I won’t argue with that.”

  “So what you’re saying is that she’s not a party to this scheme?”

  “No.”

  “If she knew, she’d have your head on a platter, right?”

  Edgar stiffened. “Right.”

  “Have you no shame, man?”

  “You can insult me all you want, but it’s not going to make me back down.”

  Cutler rubbed his forehead, his head threatening to explode like an overripe watermelon in the hot sun. “I can’t believe I’m listening to this growing mound of horseshit.”

  Edgar flushed. “You’re not making this any easier on yourself.”

  Cutler would’ve laughed at this man’s logic had it not been such a waste of effort. This man was nuts. And he, Cutler, was nuttier for continuing to indulge him.

  “I’ll keep what I know to myself.” Edgar’s voice dropped an octave. “All you have to do in return is convince my daughter you love her and want to marry her.”

  “Oh, is that all, now?” Cutler’s laugh was harsh and bitter.

  “I know you care about your mother.”

  “What the hell does that have to do with anything?”

  “Plenty.”

  Cutler’s lips thinned and his nostrils flared. “Listen, you bastard, you leave my family out of this. More to the point, leave them the hell alone.”

  “Only if you cooperate can I promise to do that.”

  “What the hell makes you think I could convince Kaylee to marry me even if I believed what you told me?”

  “Because you’re a very persuasive man, especially when it comes to women.”

  Cutler’s patience had snapped. “Get out of here, Benton, while you still have some of your dignity left. I promise I’ll forget all about this conversation.”

  “You’re the one lying. You have no intention of forgetting about what I’ve told you. You won’t leave a stone un-turned until you’ve uncovered the truth. Only, you won’t find it, unless I tell you.”

  Cutler waved a hand in disgust, frankly out of options as to how to deal with this deranged man.

  “Drew Rush terminated his parental rights shortly after you were born. I have copies of those papers, plus a birth certificate.” Edgar paused. “Your birth certificate.”

  Hot bile shot up the back of Cutler’s throat, almost gagging him. He had to swivel his chair around and take several deep sucking breaths or he would have lost it.

  That scoundrel Drew Rush and his mother together?

  Screwing?

  With him the end product of that liaison?

  This couldn’t be happening. He was having a horrific nightmare from which he’d soon awaken. Cutler closed his eyes, but when he opened them again, Edgar Benton was still there, staring at him with those unrepentant eyes. The only difference was that he was now standing.

  “I’ll let you see the papers, but only if you agree to my request.”

  “Don’t you mean blackmail?” Cutler bit out harshly.

  “That’s not the way I see it.”

  Suddenly Cutler stood as well and closed the distance between them, his breathing becoming ragged. Edgar was tall, but Cutler was taller. He caught a momentary look of fear on the old man’s face. Still, Edgar didn’t so much as make a move to back away.

  If rage hadn’t had a stranglehold on Cutler, he might have admired the man for his tenacity and grit. He knew where Kaylee got her determination.

  Kaylee.

  “I think you’d best get your ass out of here before I do what I’ve wanted to do from the first.” Cutler spat out the words. “I think you know what that is.”

  This time Edgar backed away. “I’ll give you a week to make your decision. Otherwise, I’ll make good on my promise. You can kiss your career goodbye right along with your mother’s.”

  “I told you not to mention my family again. Do what you want to me, but don’t mess with my mother, or you’ll be sorry. And I don’t make idle threats.”

  “I’m sure of that. But then, neither do I.”

  Cutler had reached his limit. His temper and fear overcame his gentlemanly professionalism. “Get the hell out of here. Now!”

  “A week, Mr. McFarland. A week.”

  Cutler barely gave him time to get out the door before he slammed it so hard that it shook some of the pictures on the wall. Then paralyzing fear rooted him to the spot.

  His mother.

  Granted, his career was important. Hell, it was his life. But his mother—she was even more important. Without her, his life wouldn’t be worth a tinker’s damn.

  Cool it, McFarland, he told himself, though neither his breathing nor his fury would abate. No one had ever blind-sided him and gotten away with it. He didn’t intend to set a precedent now.

  God. His stomach not only roiled but turned sour. The fact that his mother could have had him or any child out of wedlock was too impossible to fathom. Benton was a lying son of a bitch. That was all there was to it.

  But he had the goods, or so he said. Cutler couldn’t refute anything. Until he’d seen the evidence. Until then, he couldn’t confront his mother.

  Who was he kidding? He would never have the nerve to blatantly accuse Mary of anything even if he ever had proof.

  On the other hand, what choice did he have? If what Edgar told him was not the truth, he knew that the merest hint of such a scandal could and would do irrevocable damage to his mother’s hard-earned reputation.

  Several other factors immediately clouded his mind. His mother’s bad heart. The stress from a long-guarded secret coming to light could possibly trigger a fatal attack. She had worked hard at keeping her personal life private, and she’d never once given her congregation fodder to deem her unworthy to serve them. And last, but certainly not least, there was her pastorate.

  Mary had jumped one hurdle after another to become a minister. She had launched herself into a man’s world with determination to succeed, and she had. She would wither up and die if she had to give that up, especially under such hideous circumstances.

  Therefore it was paramount he protect his mother even if what Benton said was true. But he could feel terribly betrayed by the fact that Mary had kept this ugly truth from him, as sh
e’d never given him the slightest reason to think that Trevor wasn’t his father.

  Why would she have done that to him?

  The best way to find that answer was to get the lead out of his ass and go see her. Not now, he told himself again. He needed time to cool off, to collect his thoughts, to find out if what Benton said was indeed the truth.

  Suddenly Cutler knew what he had to do. Trevor. Perhaps he was the key to unlock the past. He’d go to his father and talk to him. With his adrenaline flowing, Cutler grabbed his briefcase and left the office.

  He didn’t know how this would all fall out. But one thing he did know. No one was going to blackmail him into marriage.

  While he couldn’t throw his mother to the wolves, he refused to be coerced into marrying a woman he didn’t love. Even if he did love her, he wouldn’t necessarily marry her. Love wasn’t always synonymous with marriage.

  There would be another solution. He just hadn’t thought of it yet.

  With grim determination he jumped into his vehicle and spun off, his heart in bleeding pieces.

  Seventeen

  “Are you okay?”

  “Do I look okay?” Edgar asked, slowly rising from the toilet where he’d just lost the contents of his stomach.

  “No,” Rebecca said bluntly, sympathy radiating from her eyes. “You’re pale as a ghost and weak as a kitten.”

  “After I wash my face, I’ll be fine.”

  “I’ll be in the kitchen. A cup of peppermint tea will be waiting for you.”

  Edgar forced a smile. “Thanks. That sounds good.”

  “Hopefully it will settle your stomach.”

  Edgar blew out his breath, then leaned over the basin. Once he made his way into the kitchen and saw Rebecca, he realized how lucky he was to have her, especially now when he couldn’t stand to be alone with himself or his thoughts.

  While he still missed his wife, he couldn’t imagine what she would look like now or how it would feel to touch her. Time had dulled those senses. At first he had resented that, but now he knew that helped him survive. He could now get out of bed every morning and function like something other than a robot.