by Wayne Jordan
He walked over to the door that led to the balcony. He knew that he needed to eat, but he wasn’t in the mood. Maybe later.
He walked out onto the balcony. The sun was setting.
It was his favorite time of the day. He didn’t make it home early too often, but when he did, he never failed to experience the beauty that came with a sunset.
For a while he was lost in the awesomeness of nature’s handiwork, a kaleidoscope of vibrant color.
When it was finally dark and only a small handful of stars flashed in the sky, he finally acknowledged that he needed to deal with Rachel’s return home.
How on Earth had his life suddenly become so complicated?
Chapter 4
Rachel woke the next day, her body groaning from lack of sleep. She’d tossed and turned into the early hours of the morning, and when she did fall asleep, it had been a fitful one, filled with dreams of George. As the sun forced its way between the delicate curtains in her room, she woke all hot and bothered. It was not only her attraction to him that worried her, but also the impending dilemma that would result when George discovered he had a twelve-year-old son.
She hoped that time would be later rather than sooner, but the island was too small and her secret could not remain that way; it was an inevitability.
She rose slowly from her bed. She woke Gregory and then checked on her mother, who was feeling much better but had agreed to rest during the day and make an appointment for the doctor.
Two hours later she entered her office, having dropped Gregory off at school. The car service collected him on evenings and dropped him home. Her job as a prosecutor demanded long hours. She rarely left the office before the streetlights came on. She was fortunate to have most weekends and all holidays off. Those days, she devoted to her son.
Her day was pretty uneventful, but just before she was about to leave for home, her boss called her into his office. Her body shook with anticipation. Something good was about to happen.
She stepped into the cool, air-conditioned office and glanced at the handsome black man who sat there. When he looked up, he smiled at her. In his mid-fifties, Carlos Thorne looked way younger. He ran the department with an iron fist but was fair and easy to get along with.
“I know you’ve only been here for a few weeks now, but your reputation as a prosecutor in Anguilla was definitely a factor in our hiring you so easily. You’re familiar with the Donovan case Bryan is working on?”
“Yes, I’ve heard about it. It’s been all over the news,” she replied.
“Well, this is going to be a very difficult one. Bryan is the lead on this case, but he needs to have surgery in a few days and will be out from work for the next five or six months. The trial is coming up and I want you to take over. Your life is going to be turned upside down. You’re going to have to eat and drink this trial.” His eyes focused on her, probing, as if waiting to see her reaction.
Rachel could not breathe. She couldn’t believe that the trial of the year had dropped into her lap.
“I would be honored,” she said without hesitation. “I appreciate your confidence in me, sir.”
“Good. Then that’s settled. I want you to do a good job. Don’t let me regret giving it to you. I’m getting some political pressure, but I want that man convicted. Just because Donovan is a politician doesn’t give him a free reign to murder and get away with it. He has one of the best criminal lawyers on the island. Maybe the fact that you beat him just yesterday will give you a psychological advantage.”
The color drained from her face. A trial like this was a bit too good to come without complications. Now she’d have to deal with George in court.
“You should go talk to Bryan before you leave. Friday is his last day at work, so he will bring you up to speed with the case.”
“Will do, sir,” she replied, torn between dread at having to face George each day and excitement for the upcoming trial.
Rachel headed immediately to Bryan’s office, unable to contain her excitement. She wanted to get started as soon as possible.
Later, as she drove home, she kept thinking of the magnitude of the task before her. She stopped at Chefette to pick up the two pizzas she’d ordered. Since she was late, she didn’t feel in the mood to cook and the files were beckoning her.
At home, she helped Gregory with his homework, and after sitting with her mother and son eating pizza and watching an episode of House of Payne, she eventually took a shower and headed back to the study.
Gregory was sitting at his desk. He looked up when she entered. A frown lined his forehead. Something had upset him.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“I don’t want to make you angry,” he responded, his voice low, almost a whisper.
“Why would I be angry?” she responded.
He shrugged.
“Talk to me, Gregory. You know you can talk to me about anything.”
“I have a letter from the cricket coach for you. This weekend the coach wants to take us to the beach for training. He told us that our dads can come along. I don’t have a dad anymore.”
Rachel felt an ache so painful that she wasn’t sure what to say.
“It hurts a bit, but I’ll be all right,” he said, looking up at her, tears pooled in his eyes. “Some of the other boys don’t have dads either, so I won’t feel left out. It just feels sad that my real dad didn’t want me.”
When she opened her arms, he stood, stepping into them willingly.
She hadn’t realized that he had perceived what she had told him as rejection by his biological father.
She thought quickly but wasn’t sure how to deal with the situation. Instead she held him until he pulled away and told her he was ready to finish his homework.
After they were done, he went off to bed. She could tell he was still sad and she hoped the hug she’d given him would offer him some comfort.
What was she going to do? She would have to make a decision soon. For now, she wasn’t sure she was ready to tell George that he had a son.
She headed to her home office and took the files from her briefcase. Hopefully, focusing on the upcoming trial would give her a few hours of relief.
Life was becoming more and more complicated and for the first time since her return home, she wondered if she had made the right decision to do so.
* * *
George watched from his bar stool as Troy and Shayne strolled into the sports bar as if they didn’t have a care in the world. Tonight he was not quite in the mood for the company, but these times with his best friends were important, especially since Shayne didn’t make it too often. At least seeing them dismissed his desire to go home and work.
On reflection, this regular Friday get-together was the only time he got to relax and socialize. His life had become so bogged down with work, and maybe that was the reason he wasn’t enjoying it as much. This was the first time in four months they were meeting.
He was sure things would get even worse. Troy’s wedding to his fiancée, Sandra Walters, was in a week’s time. After that, George would be the only single one in the group.
“I’m so glad the two of you finally got here. I haven’t eaten all day and this hunger is killing me,” he said good-naturedly.
“You’re going to have to stop doing that, partner,” Troy commented. “If you don’t, ulcers are going to start making a mess of your stomach. I’m a neurosurgeon so you better not come to me complaining. I don’t do stomachs.”
“So you get here thirty minutes late and then blame me for not eating,” George replied, making a fist and punching Troy lightly on the chest.
“I’ve already ordered the usual. A large portion of those sumptuous barbequed ribs.”
“And lots of French frie
s, right?” Shayne asked.
The waitress interrupted before he could reply. She escorted them to their table. There, she filled glasses with water and took orders for their drinks. Flashing a warm smile, she left with a promise to be back with their drinks and meal soon.
“So what’s going on, boys?” Troy asked.
“The usual,” Shayne said. “You know that the end of the harvest is particularly busy and stressful and with the bumper crop I have this year, I can’t wait until it’s over.”
“I’m sure that Carla will be glad when it’s over too,” George commented. He turned to Troy. “And you, Troy. How are plans for the wedding going? When do we have to do the fitting for our suits?”
“Sandra promised to let me know by tomorrow. I’ll call you as soon as I know.” Troy sighed. “Boy, I didn’t know that planning a wedding was so much trouble.”
“Planning a wedding?” Shayne said, laughing loudly. “Sandra, Carla and Tamara are doing all the work, from what I’ve heard.”
“So that’s what Sandra’s been telling you,” Troy retorted. “I’m sure she hasn’t told you that she has deprived me of my conjugal rights until the honeymoon. A whole week before I can get some! The nerve of that woman!”
“One week? And you’re frustrated. I’m sure your hands are tired by now,” George guffawed. “You need to exercise restraint.”
“You can afford to say that,” Troy replied. “You aren’t getting much and no lady in her right mind will marry you.” He paused. “Didn’t mean to say that,” he said apologetically.
“But it’s true. I’m the single one and enjoying it.”
Shayne broke the silence. “Troy, did he tell you that Rachel is back on the island?”
“Rachel? You mean Rachel Davis?” Troy’s expression was priceless.
“Rachel St. Clair,” Shayne corrected. “She married the old fart.”
“Shayne, you don’t have to rub in it, you know,” Troy said. “The boy’s still in love with her.”
“Me?” George snapped. “You must be crazy! I don’t feel anything for her.”
“Methinks the boy protests too much,” said Shayne. “We know you, George. You fell in love with her the first time you set eyes on her.”
“But things have changed,” George responded, trying to keep any emotion from his voice. “She’s the one who went off and got married. And I’d be happy if we change the conversation.”
“I agree,” said Shayne. “Let’s talk about something else.”
“What about that trial you have coming up?” Troy asked. “It’s going to be big. Everyone is talking about it.”
“Remember what I told you the other night?” Shayne asked, looking directly at George.
“I remember,” George replied.
“And what’s that?” Troy asked. “You better not be keeping anything from me.”
“It’s fine, Troy. Shayne was talking to me about my work ethic. He believes I’ve lost my passion for my work. To be honest, I’ve just been going through the motions. Hopefully, this trial will help me to refocus. This is a big case and I intend to win. Bryan is a great lawyer, but he hasn’t beaten me in a case in years. I have the advantage.”
“Just don’t get too lackadaisical,” Troy suggested. “Remember, you had your first defeat just yesterday.”
“Okay, don’t rub it in.” He shrugged. “It wasn’t that important of a case.”
“See what I mean?” Shayne commented. “In the past, you would have considered all of your cases important.”
“That’s true, George,” Troy emphasized.
“Okay, okay, you win,” George said, his hands rising in defeat. “But I took your advice, Shayne. I used last night to reflect. With all that has been happening, I know I need to be more focused.”
“So how does she look?” Troy asked.
“Who?” George asked.
“Rachel. Who else?”
“She looks fine,” George replied abruptly.
“Fine. That’s it? I’m sure she looks more than fine. She was always a sexy number. Didn’t know what she saw in you.”
They laughed, all except George. He didn’t find their sense of humor at all amusing.
“Since you’re men, you won’t be able to appreciate my muscular sexiness. I can assure you that most women find me sexy, charming and a passionate lover. I’m a totally intense lover.”
“Okay, okay, a bit too much information,” Troy complained.
“Come off it, Troy,” George snorted. “Remember that foursome we had…”
“Foursome?” Shayne asked. “What are you to talking about? This is the first time I’m hearing about this.”
“Shayne, remember, you got married long before I did. I’m sure Carla would have had a problem with your joining us.”
The waitress interrupted again and the scent of the barbequed ribs ended the conversation.
Two hours later and totally contented with the meal, the camaraderie and conversation, they left.
* * *
When George entered his home half an hour later, the answering machine was blinking. He checked his messages and immediately returned the call from his partner, Douglas.
Douglas answered the phone, his voice drowsy with sleep.
“What’s so important that it can’t wait until tomorrow?” George asked.
“A fact I now regret. I was dreaming about this woman with breasts like… .”
“Douglas, the news?” George interrupted.
“Okay, okay. Bryan won’t be the prosecuting lawyer anymore. Seems he’s going to be off for six months having surgery.”
“Who’s replacing him?” he asked. He’d been looking forward to battling with Bryan.
“Rachel St. Clair, the new prosecutor. She’s Judge Edward St. Clair’s widow. They were living in Anguilla, but he died a few years ago. She recently returned to Barbados.”
George almost slammed the phone down. This was getting worse.
“Thanks for letting me know,” he said.
“I’m sure you have nothing to worry about, though I heard she’s good.”
“I know she’s good,” he responded. “Have a good night.”
He put the phone down before Douglas could continue. He didn’t want to be talking about Rachel St. Clair. She had just come back into his life and already things were becoming complicated.
His day had again gone from bad to worse. He seemed destined to come in contact with his ex-girlfriend. Fate seemed to enjoy toying with him.
He glanced at the clock on the wall. It was almost midnight, but he didn’t have time to sleep. He’d spend a few hours scrutinizing the case file. Rachel had already proved herself a formidable opponent. He could not sit on his laurels. This trial would not be a walkover for him.
He headed down the hallway to his den, folding himself into his favorite chair.
The next few weeks were going to test his ability as a lawyer, but he expected that his emotional control was also going to be put to the test.
And Troy and Sandra’s upcoming wedding didn’t help him in any way. What Troy had said was very true. He’d be the only one not married.
Why on Earth did she have to return to Barbados? His life had been just fine when she was not around.
Her return only served to emphasize how lonely he was. And he hated being alone.
Chapter 5
The weeks before the trial passed quickly for Rachel, and she forced her mind to focus on the impending case. Fortunately, there was so much work to do, she didn’t have time to think about the man she’d loved those many years ago.
She’d caught a glimpse of him in a feature in one of the local newspapers. He’d looked han
dsome in a black tuxedo as part of the groom’s party at Troy’s wedding.
The photo of a smiling Troy and his beautiful new wife had given rise to memories of a better time, so she tried to immerse herself even further in her work on the trial.
She tried to force images of the kissing and the passionate, intense lovemaking from her mind but it threatened to consume her. Each morning she would wake feeling grumpy and unfulfilled.
Even though she and Edward had eventually become lovers during the later years of their marriage, he had never stirred her as a lover. Lovemaking had been a gentle habit. Though she’d enjoyed their relationship, the passion had never been there. He’d been good to her and in some ways she’d grown to love him. Her life with him had been safe—nothing like the feelings she was currently experiencing.
The first day of the trial, jury selection, dawned with a brilliant, tropical sky. The sun shone brightly, and outside her window birds sung melodies in keeping with the mood of expectancy.
She was confident she would win the case. She knew that only a great lawyer could get this defendant off, and she had prepared thoroughly, so George was in for a hard fight.
When she reached the courtroom, George was not there. Another strategy of hers. She always made it a policy to arrive in court before her opponents. It always left them feeling slightly intimidated when they entered after she did.
When George arrived fifteen minutes later, he immediately glanced in her direction. He hadn’t expected her there, but he quickly regained his composure. First round goes to…Rachel St. Clair, as she had predicted.
By the end of the day, she was still feeling on top of the world. The jury selection was complete and the trial would begin the next day. During the selection, she’d won some and lost some, but she had the feeling that the jury would be a fair one. She suspected that George was feeling equally good.
As she walked along the corridor heading to the other side of the building where the prosecutors’ offices were, she heard the staccato of footsteps behind her.