Passion's Price

by Gwynne Forster

“I didn’t—”

  “Yes, you have, and I’m not only glad but immensely pleased that you could share that with a man who cared more deeply than I.”

  She thought about that for a few minutes while she silently sipped coffee. “Thank you. I don’t suppose many men would have done that. I was a flirt who loved to see the reaction that I could get from men. You were older than most men I’d dated, and you sent my ego sky-high. But after that disappointment, or maybe because of it, my attitude towards men changed. I still like to play, and I guess I’m still a flirt, though not intentionally. What I’m saying is that the experience with you changed me, and I’m grateful.”

  “You’ve changed, all right. I wish I were meeting you now for the first time, but that can’t be. How’s Tyra? Did she marry Whitley?”

  “Yes. They live in Baltimore with his son, Andy, and his aunt. They’re expecting a baby in about six weeks.”

  “How nice! Give them my best wishes.”

  Darlene stood. “I must be going. I got in from Memphis a little less than two hours ago. All the best, Edward, and thanks.”

  She passed a newsstand, bought a copy of the Maryland Journal and headed home.

  “I sure would like to know who you had to see the minute you got back in town,” Maggie said to Darlene as soon as she entered the house.

  Darlene hugged Maggie. “Oh, I had to check out a few things with an old flame.”

  “An old flame! You ain’t had but one, and that one didn’t last long before you sent him packing. Let’s see how long this one hangs around.” Maggie slipped an arm around Darlene’s shoulder.

  “How do you know there’s someone?”

  “Darlene, you’re as transparent as glass. I’m looking at you. I hope for your sake that he’s worth that look of delight on your face.”

  Chapter 4

  It did not surprise Darlene to see Clark walk into the house later that day. He considered it his responsibility to watch over her. Because she loved her brother, she tolerated his controlling ways. She heard the key turn in the lock. “Want to bet that’s Clark? Tyra is married and busy these days, thank goodness,” she said to Maggie.

  “Hi, there,” Clark said to Darlene, bringing her into his arms for a hug. “I see you managed to get home. What were you doing in Memphis in the first place? Can’t that law firm hire a private investigator?”

  “The other partners didn’t think the case was worth it, which is probably why they gave it to me in the first place. They didn’t want me to go to Memphis, but nobody tells me where I can go. I may be the youngest in the firm, but I’m still a partner.”

  He took a bottle of beer from the refrigerator, grabbed a handful of potato chips, straddled a kitchen chair and sat down. “What else have you been up to, and don’t say nothing? You haven’t once protested the fact that I’m treating you as if you were a child. Could it be that, all of a sudden, you realize that you aren’t?”

  She walked over to him and patted his shoulder. “Don’t bother to fish, Clark. It’ll be a waste of your time.”

  He looked at Maggie, who was taking a roast from the oven to baste it. “Did she give you this same line, Maggie?”

  Maggie rubbed her hands across the front of her apron. “She didn’t dare give me a line. You know I can read Darlene like an open book. It’s time you backed off, Clark. Darlene is a grown woman, and she’s entitled to as much privacy as you are.”

  He drained the bottle of beer and got up. “I guess that puts me in my place. It also tells me something’s going on. What time’s dinner?”

  “You’re getting to be just like a Yankee. Dinner! Humph! What I’m cooking is supper, and that’ll be ready at seven o’clock,” Maggie said.

  Clark patted Maggie’s cheek. “I want you to know that eating at seven is a Yankee custom. Southerners eat dinner early.”

  “Yeah,” Maggie said in the tone of one who has lost the point. “Whatever.”

  After dinner, Darlene and Clark helped Maggie clean the kitchen, and then Darlene raced upstairs, took a quick shower and crawled into bed. Anxiety had all but frayed her nerves, so much so that her skin tingled. Why didn’t he call? Suddenly, she realized that she had promised to call him as soon as she got home. She laughed aloud and dialed his number.

  “I haven’t done a thing since you left me but wait for this call. I haven’t even had dinner.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, “but I just remembered that I’m the one who was supposed to call.”

  “You were waiting for my call? Serves you right. Kiss me.” She made the sound of a kiss.

  “I’ll see you Friday evening around seven. Don’t meet me at the airport. It’s bad enough that I’ll have to kiss you in the presence of your family.”

  “Passengers at the airport won’t care, but I can just see Clark getting in between us when he thinks you’re about to kiss me.”

  “You’re exaggerating. Besides, I haven’t met a man who’d make that kind of mistake with me.”

  They talked for a while, neither willing to end the conversation.

  “I spoke with Edward right after I got here,” she said after a brief pause in the conversation.

  “Who’s Edward?”

  She told him about her relationship with Edward.

  “Was that necessary?”

  “It was something that I was prepared to talk to him about,” she said.

  “He could have ended it. But he did the next best thing.”

  “I suppose so. But he should have told me that he didn’t see me as someone to take seriously in a relationship. I’d never thought anything of flirting. But after that, my attitude has changed. I stopped playing with men. It is no longer fun.”

  “You had a moment of truth.”

  “After we talked, I felt better about the relationship.”

  “You were with him?”

  “Yeah. I called him and told him I wanted to see him. I couldn’t discuss that over the phone. I wanted him to look me in the eye.”

  “You’re satisfied now that your disappointment had nothing to do with you?”

  “I knew that before you took off my dress. Nothing about it was the same. Honey, if I had a lollipop, I’d give it to you.” “What? What the hell does that mean?”

  “When I was little, my daddy used to reward me with a lollipop, because I loved them. I’d better get to sleep, because I have a ton of work tomorrow. Good night, honey.

  “Good night, love.”

  Mike hung up and spent the next half hour musing over his conversation with Darlene. When first meeting her, he had thought that she possessed an innocent manner, but he couldn’t have been further off the mark. What he’d observed, but had not correctly surmised, was that Darlene’s insistence upon being truthful about everything had nothing to do with her naiveté. She joked and teased, but even in that, she didn’t lie. What you saw was exactly what you got. She wanted to make love to him, and she let him know it. A woman without guile—she was a rarity, and he intended to treat her that way. There was much about her that he didn’t know and should get to know before he got in deeper, and he meant to use the coming weekend to good advantage.

  Darlene marched through the doors of Myrtle, Coppersmith & Cunningham, LLP, and headed for the third office on the right. “Hi, Ann,” she called to her secretary. “I see the place is still here.”

  “It sure is, and your in-box is crammed. Say, what happened to you?”

  Darlene paused. “What do you mean?”

  “You’re glowing. If I thought ninety-five-degree heat would make me look the way you do, I’d head South right now.”

  “There’s nothing like the sun to make your cheeks rosy,” Darlene said and rushed into her office to hide her embarrassment. Could everyone see what had transpired while in Memphis? She briefly glanced over at the voice-mail light blinking on her phone, checked her emails and went to the conference room for the regular Monday morning meeting.

  “Apart from what must have been a tryi
ng weekend,” Sam Myrtle began, “I hope you got something out of the trip.”

  “I got some important interviews, and I’m almost certain we can forget about my client’s alibi in Memphis. He’s trying to throw me off. Everything I learned in Memphis about this case is counter to what my client says, and I don’t want to represent him. You will see from my report that nothing I found sustains his assertion. He’s lying, and he’s covering up something.”

  Both Myrtle and Coppersmith lurched forward. “But Darlene,” Sam said, “that’s a very large retainer. You’re willing to drop it?”

  “Absolutely. If I cleared him, I wouldn’t be able to sleep. I will not defend someone I know is guilty. Besides, since I don’t believe him, I wouldn’t be able to give him a first-class defense. I doubt the credibility of his alibi who came out of nowhere and volunteered to testify for my client.”

  “Hmm.” Sam Myrtle wiped his glasses and pinched his nose. The man hated to pass up a hefty fee, especially since the firm’s caseload was down. “We’ll have to give this a lot of thought. That’s a substantial sum of money.”

  “Yes,” she said. “Yes, it is, but I don’t think we want to be associated with this case.”

  After leaving work that day, Darlene was headed toward her car when she nearly tripped and fell on the sidewalk. A Good Samaritan grabbed her, steadied her and inquired about her well-being.

  “I hope you aren’t injured. How do you feel?” he asked her.

  Something just didn’t feel right. She’d passed that way every day and had never seen piles of debris there before. She looked at the man—tall, handsome and svelte. “Did you put that garbage on the sidewalk? Of course, I stumbled. I didn’t expect to see it blocking my path.”

  “You could at least thank me for helping to break your fall.”

  Something wasn’t right, so she changed tactics. “I’m sorry, sir, but I’m having a bad day.”

  “That’s certainly understandable, Ms. Cunningham. Happens to all of us.”

  Her antenna shot up. “Did you call me Ms. Cunningham? Who’s she?”

  “W-well, you are,” he stammered. “I mean, I…uh, was led…I mean, I thought you were.”

  She smiled. “Sorry to disappoint you, Mr…. What did you say your name was?”

  “Pickney. Bradford Pickney.” His facial expression let her know that he was trying to determine whether his name rang a bell with her.

  It did, but she responded with a poker face. “I’m glad to meet you, Mr. Pickney. Have a great day.”

  The name Pickney was on the list of people she was to have interviewed in Memphis. She’d been unable to reach that person. Hmm. She intended to check it out as soon as she got home.

  Darlene did not bother to mention to Clark that a man would be visiting her the coming weekend. She knew he’d grill her until she lost patience with him, and he would have a dozen questions ready for Mike. She knew she could also expect a family gathering, the purpose of which would be to scrutinize Mike. What a laugh! Mike was a master at dealing with interrogations. She wouldn’t tell Clark, but she had to tell Maggie, who prepared their meals and kept the house.

  “You mean to say he gon’ be here for the weekend? Good thing you told me. Does he have any food preferences or allergies that you know of?” Darlene told her that she didn’t think so. “Well, if you think enough of him to parade him past Clark and Tyra, I’d better pull out the stops. I’ll plan a nice dinner for Friday evening.”

  She hugged Maggie. “I knew I could count on you.” She started out of the dining room, where Maggie had been sewing, and stopped. “If my brother and my sister try to give him a hard time, they’re going to get a surprise.”

  “Don’t tell me he’s tough.”

  “Yes, he is, and he can definitely hold his own.”

  “Glad to hear it,” Maggie said. Still, Darlene noted a bit of uncertainty in Maggie’s voice.

  Mike didn’t have any misgivings about his decision to spend a weekend with Darlene in Frederick, Maryland. He wanted to know her, and what better way to learn who she was than in her home? Their attraction had come hard and fast, shaking him up and causing him to question his thinking about getting involved with a woman he’d only briefly known. In the end, he’d had no choice. Every gesture she made drew him closer to her. And when he pulled out of her after the most electrifying and satisfying experience of his life, he’d have been a fool not to admit, at least to himself, that he belonged to her. He patted his shirt pocket for a package of cigarettes, remembered that he hadn’t smoked in years, got up from his desk and went downstairs to his kitchen and opened a can of beer. A virgin. He was thirty-four years old, and that was the first time he had made love to a virgin. He still couldn’t believe how she’d made him feel. As honest in bed with him as she was in ordinary conversation, her openness made pleasing her his passion and his mission. If only it wasn’t a fluke. He could hardly wait to duplicate the experience again.

  Friday finally arrived. He stepped into the waiting room at BWI Thurgood Marshall International Airport, and his gaze fell on her smile. He thought his heart had hit his sternum. He dropped his suitcase, lifted her into his arms and lowered his head. Her kiss, powerful and passionate, clouded his mind to his public surroundings. He lowered her to her feet and picked up his bag.

  “I told you not to meet me.”

  “I know. But I wouldn’t have missed this greeting for the world.” She grasped his free hand. “I drove, because it’s the easiest and fastest way to get home. We’ll go directly to the suburbs.”

  “Have you missed me?” That kiss said she missed him a lot, but he wanted her to vocally acknowledge it.

  “Uh-huh. You’ve even been invading my dreams.”

  He put the suitcase in the trunk of her car, opened the driver’s door for her and held it.

  “You mean you’re going to sit beside me while I drive?” she asked sarcastically, as if the question itself was an insult to his male ego.

  “Why not? I don’t know one thing about this area.” He got in beside her.

  He liked the fact that she drove with confidence. Suddenly, he laughed. Why didn’t that surprise him? It’s what brought them together. Most people would have investigated before going to an unfamiliar address in a strange city, knocking on the door, and accepting the hospitality of a strange, elderly man.

  “Are you afraid of anything?” he asked when she took the exit ramp at thirty miles an hour.

  “Sure. I’m scared of worms and snakes.”

  Laughter poured out of him, partly because he was amused and partly because he was relieved that they’d made it safely off the highway. “Just checking.”

  She parked in front of the big white Georgian house in which she’d been born and turned to him. “We’re here.”

  “You haven’t given me any rules,” he said, although he didn’t need to be told how to behave. But he wanted a better idea of what to expect.

  “Use your good judgment,” she said, opened the door and hopped out.

  She rang the doorbell and waited. “Maggie’s like my mother, Mike. So I have to give her a chance to meet you at the door.” She looked at him with a quizzical expression. “What’s your exact title?”

  “Lieutenant Michael Raines, but don’t you—”

  The door opened, and a slim, matronly looking woman gazed at him. “Come on in.”

  Darlene slipped an arm around Mike’s waist in as possessive an act as he’d ever witnessed and looked up at him. “Maggie, this is Lieutenant Michael Raines, but please call him Mike. Mike, this is my surrogate mother, Mrs. Maggie Jenkins.”

  “I’m glad to meet you, Mrs. Jenkins,” he managed to say facing the most thorough scrutiny he’d ever experienced.

  “Likewise,” she said. “Come here and let me look at you.” She grinned and shook her head as if perplexed. He didn’t know what to make of it.

  Then she put her arms around him and hugged him. “You’ll do. Looks like Darlene’s finally
grown up.” He figured that meant he’d passed muster.

  “I’ll show you to your room,” Darlene said. “Then I’ll show you around the house. It’s kind of big.”

  He followed her up the stairs to a room that had pale yellow walls, a beige carpet, walnut furniture and a chocolate comforter on a big sleigh bed. Its spaciousness appealed to him, and he felt at home.

  “I like the room,” he told her.

  “It was our parents’ bedroom, and we use it as a guest suite. It’s very roomy, so I thought it would suit you. I hope Maggie didn’t put you off.”

  “I didn’t know what to think.”

  “Not to worry. With Maggie, what you see is just what you get. She’s as honest as Lincoln.”

  “I finally got an inkling of that. Is this the only chance I’ll get to kiss you?”

  She gave him a withering look. “Trust me, Mike. I’m smarter than that.” His eyebrows shot up as she brushed a quick kiss across his lips then hurried out of the room with the speed of a jungle cat. In other words, get your libido under control, man, and keep it there.

  He looked around. So far, he’d seen a beautiful home with elegant but not overly ostentatious furnishings. When she first met Mike, she’d said her parents were physicians, and that she and her brother had been brought up by their older sister, Tyra. He had a feeling that it wasn’t Clark who’d give him the third degree, but rather Darlene’s sister Tyra. He settled into his room, and after changing into a pair of tan-colored pants and a yellow T-shirt, he strolled down the stairs.

  “Mike, you want to come here in the kitchen for a minute?” He followed Maggie’s voice straight to the kitchen. “Sit down here.” She pointed to a straight-backed chair at the kitchen table. “Snack on this, since we’re not having supper till Clark and Tyra get here. That’ll be close to seven.” She put a plate of buttermilk biscuits, country ham and fried green tomatoes in front of him, along with a mug of coffee. He said a silent thanks and relaxed.

  “Did you say snack? For a guy who has to fend for himself in the kitchen, this is a full-course meal and a heavenly one at that. Thank you.”