Nashville Nights

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Nashville Nights Page 82

by Alicia Hunter Pace


  Beside him, his mother straightened. “Christopher Justin Benton, you apologize to Rafa right now! How dare you compare that . . . that thing to Esmeralda!”

  “But—”

  “Even a fool as blind as you can see this is not a Paulette kind of thing!” Alice’s anger vibrated in her voice, but then faded as she turned and hugged Rafael impulsively. “I’m afraid, though,” she said, not addressing his father any longer, “that this is a broken heart kind of thing.” She squeezed his arm. “Am I right?”

  Emotion overcame him, and he couldn’t speak, so he just wrapped his arms around her and hugged her gently.

  Across the room, Chris Benton sighed and reached for his glasses again. He put them on, stood, and came over to rest one hand on Alice’s shoulder and another on Rafael’s.

  “Tell us what you need us to do,” he said.

  • • •

  Esmeralda flipped open her wallet, looking for the bill she’d tucked in to pay for her trim and manicure. As she pulled the money out, a slip of paper fell out. She recognized it as she picked it up, but checked anyway. Doug Harper’s phone number.

  She found she still couldn’t discard it, or tear it in pieces. Maybe Rafael would like the number. He could talk to Doug, make him think about Justin. Rafael wouldn’t understand why she had the number. He’d wonder why she’d been willing to accept it from Beto. The fact that Beto had Bounty’s phone number raised her own suspicions, too, but Beto was out of the picture now. The temptation to do something for Rafael—something that would move him the way he moved her—burned inside her. She could just call and see what he wanted. She could do something to help the Bentons and their cherished little boy.

  A voice she didn’t recognize answered the phone, but then Doug Harper came on. He introduced himself as Bounty, but she refused to address him by that name after his disgusting behavior and his legal threats.

  “What did you want from me?” she demanded, and he immediately started with the innuendo.

  “Well, what do you think I wanted?” he drawled.

  “Don’t call again.”

  “Don’t hang up,” he said quickly. “Please. I’m sorry. I can help you.”

  “I don’t need help. And I don’t need a man, either, Doug. I have one.”

  “Look, I think Justin is mine. And I want him. But I have a record deal now. I’ve been offered a tour as an opening act. I may not be the best choice to raise him.”

  “So leave him where he is,” she said. “He’s happy, Doug. He’s a happy little boy with grandparents and an uncle who love him.”

  “I . . . I don’t know. If I don’t claim him now, later they might say I never showed any interest. I think I have to try now.” He paused. After a long silence, he sighed into the phone. “Look, meet me at the Silver Dollar. Tomorrow. I want to do the right thing.”

  “Not from what I heard,” Esme reminded him.

  “Esmeralda, did your parents ever hate one of your boyfriends?”

  “They hated all of them, but especially the one I wanted to marry. So what?”

  “Did they try to break you up?” She didn’t answer, and she could almost imagine him nodding at the silent receiver. “Yeah. Cody loved me, Esme. She wasn’t a stupid woman. Her family just wouldn’t let her choose. I wasn’t good enough.”

  She could see that happening, except . . . “You came on to me. I didn’t ask for it or enjoy it. You knew I was engaged. Why?”

  “I’m a jerk, Esme. I don’t deny that. I play a Romeo type in my show. The girls eat it up, and right now I have to draw as many folks as I can. But if you gave me a chance, I think I could leave you with a better impression.”

  “I have to go,” she said. “If I’m in town tomorrow, maybe I’ll call.”

  “I’ll be at the Silver Dollar at four for a sound check and rehearsal. Come if you want to.”

  All the way home, Doug’s explanation turned circles in her head. Toby had been such a good kid. Nobody had ever given him a chance. What if the Bentons were just wrong about Doug Harper? Even if he filed for custody, that didn’t mean anything except that he really wanted his son. If Justin were his son, of course.

  She found Rafael outside, watching Justin try to interest Chief in a game of chase. The dog stayed where he was, even though Justin crowed and jumped up and down and rolled the ball.

  “What’s up?” he asked, moving over on the canvas-covered sofa.

  “Rafael, how well did you know Doug Harper?”

  “Very well. I hired him, remember?”

  Actually, she’d forgotten that as soon as Doug painted the comparison with Toby. “I just can’t help wondering if you all gave him a chance. I mean, I was thinking about Toby. He was a good man.. Really. Or at least, Toby would have been a good man if he’d gotten that far. Rafael, what if you just sat down with Doug and talked to him, man to man?”

  “And all this popped into your head for no reason?” he drawled, unconvinced.

  She didn’t like him questioning her. “I told you, Toby’s been on my mind.” She thought he flinched at that, but refused to back down. “Talk to him, Rafael.”

  He stood up and swung Justin into his arms. “We got a letter from his lawyers, Esmeralda. Our lawyers are talking to him. And when lawyers are talking—everyone else stays out of it. Everyone.” He stalked out of the room with Justin slung over his shoulder laughing and waving at her.

  • • •

  Doug sat at a front table, waving at customers who acknowledged him. The sign outside said Bounty Collins, but Esme had never met him as Doug. Maybe he hadn’t been such a creep in the pre-Bounty days.

  He stood when he saw her, giving her an apprehensive smile that made her understand why women liked his looks. He didn’t seem at all threatening. They sat down, and she let him order a beer for her.

  “So . . . Rafael told me you’ve filed for custody.”

  “My lawyers are handling it. Like I said, it’s a tough call.”

  “But one you made, apparently.”

  “I could stop it.”

  “Really?” She sipped her beer and stared at him. He fidgeted. She could still see through him, she realized. Doug and Bounty were the same after all. Her excitement fizzled, and she realized she’d wanted to impress the Bentons by saving the day for Justin. She was becoming the old Esmeralda all over again—manipulative and needy. Wait. There is no old Esmeralda. She drained half the bottle. “You could help make that happen, Esmeralda. You could help me.”

  “I suggested they were wrong about you,” she volunteered. “I know that my parents tore Toby apart, for no reason. Maybe if you made it clear you wouldn’t take Justin, they’d give you a chance—get to know you.”

  “They had chances,” he said bitterly. “I kept Cody alive, not the other way around. You should see what her life was when she didn’t know who her kid’s father was.” He gave her a smug smile. “Or wouldn’t tell. I’d like to tear your do-no-wrong hubby apart with my bare hands. He could have listened to Cody. He could have listened to me. He could have let us be in love—and she might still be alive.”

  His story echoed in her head, replayed like a song. Or a bad dream. His story was hers. Cody hadn’t lived; neither had Toby. She reached for her phone and drew her mug closer. If he gave her five more minutes of truth, five minutes that made him believe he was sincere, she’d call Rafael and force him to come over.

  He reached out and laid a hand on hers. “He’s still the lucky one, her brother is. Your husband. He’s got you. I’ve got nothing. At best, a kid with no last name who might not ever know who his daddy is.”

  His words pierced her soul. She didn’t know who her father was. Her mother didn’t know, either. How dare he talk about a woman he had claimed to love like that? She stood to go.

  “Stay a little longer. One more beer. Let me tell you a story about how your husband and I met. Maybe you can remind him . . . ” He got up and walked to the bar, coming back with the promised beverages.

/>   “Here.” He handed her one, and took the other. “Cheers.”

  She nodded curtly, but didn’t raise her drink. Her cell phone buzzed suddenly, and she looked. Beto’s number. She didn’t answer, but when it kept ringing, she started worrying. Maybe her parents—her aunt or uncle—needed her and couldn’t call. Maybe—

  “Excuse me,” she said, standing. “I need to take this.” And she wouldn’t take it in front of a stranger who knew her brother.

  She could hardly hear his voice, and she walked around the room trying to improve her connection. When the number faded from the screen, she closed the phone. “I’ve got to go.”

  “But your beer,” he protested. “You didn’t touch it. I wanted to tell you—”

  She didn’t sit down, but she lifted it, sipped it, then pushed it away. “Thank you,” she said, and left.

  Her truck was halfway down the block, but the distance kept seeming to lengthen. She felt sluggish and tired, but she’d slept well the night before. She turned to look behind her. Fear made her skin prickle as she thought she saw Beto move into the shadows of a stone column by one of the buildings. What could Beto be doing still in town? Rafael said he’d given him bus fare home.

  She couldn’t help the sudden suspicion she felt. Maybe Bounty wanted to break up the marriage early. Maybe Beto wanted to mete out some further damage. They might be two of a kind, out to hurt her, hurt Rafael—hurt Justin. The scandal they could cause by making her appear to be pursuing Bounty, just days after the wedding, might be something they’d do out of sheer hatred. She tried to walk faster, but her legs wouldn’t cooperate. Across the street, the door opened as customers came out of Rosita’s Restaurant. She didn’t know the woman, but the other was the game warden—PJ. Even through the dizziness trying to cripple her, she remembered that game wardens were certified peace officers. She held her arms out a little at her sides trying to keep her balance.

  “PJ!” she called, as if he were her new best friend. “PJ, I want to ask you . . . ” His momentary confusion disappeared and he started toward her, smiling, but she saw him looking around carefully, his head moving imperceptibly as he spotted something.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  “Wobbly. I think maybe the beer I was drinking had something in it. I didn’t drink much . . . ” She swayed.

  “Someone might have been following you,” he said softly, motioning towards his companion, who had stopped several yards away.

  The woman who had been with him came up, and nodded at Esmeralda, though she looked annoyed. “I feel dizzy,” Esme explained, “but . . . ”

  “Let’s get out of the sun. I’m Reyna.” She supported Esme as they climbed up a sloping walk and stopped under an awning.

  Behind them, PJ had disappeared, and came out minutes later walking beside Beto.

  “He says he’s your brother,” he told Esme, and she shook her head. “No. He’s my cousin.”

  “We’re family,” Beto whined. “You owe me—tell the officer the truth. You’re my sister!”

  “Please,” Esme said softly. “Please—can you make him leave? I don’t want to drive yet.” She knew she sounded shrill. Panicked. But she couldn’t help herself. “If I have to be here with him . . . no. I won’t.” She tried to move away, but stumbled and stopped.

  “Didn’t your husband pay for a bus ticket for him?” PJ asked.

  When Esme looked surprised, he chuckled.

  “Yes, I know,” she agreed, weakly and without humor. “This is Truth.” She took another faltering step before turning back. PJ and Reyna flanked Beto, effectively keeping him there. She wouldn’t run. “What were you and Doug planning, Beto?” she demanded, her dry throat making her voice hoarse. “Were you going after me or Rafa?”

  Beto’s hate-filled face twisted in a leer. “Prove we were doing anything, cuz. You were working on a little affair with the man your husband hates most in the world. I was just walking down the sidewalk. Stopped to take a leak, and this gorilla grabbed me for no reason. I’ll sue,” he spat.

  She’d never felt so sick, but it wasn’t the drink. Her head pounded, but most of the dizziness was gone. The nausea and the weakness threatening to swamp her like a tidal wave, dragging her under and away forever, came from Beto’s hatred and contempt.

  “Thanks, PJ and Reyna. Everything’s gone but a headache.” She waved a hand at Beto. “I—I don’t know what you can do with him, but I can’t be here. I need to go.”

  “Don’t worry about him. You shouldn’t drive. Maybe Doc Roberts is in.”

  “No need.” Esmeralda brushed at her hair with her fingers and took a few experimental steps. “See? I can walk again. I have to leave, PJ. I don’t want to see him again. Ever.”

  In the end, she didn’t drive home. PJ called Rafael, who insisted on taking her to the clinic to have blood drawn. PJ alerted the sheriff’s office, who went off to the Silver Dollar. Everywhere eyes watched her, and conversation buzzed around her. She’d never manage to be free of scandal, even when she was supposed to be the hero. Not only hadn’t she talked Doug out of pursuing Justin, she’d bet money someone had overheard the exchange about being Beto’s cousin, not sister. Soon her sorry story would be all over town. The mother who didn’t want her, but claimed a stranger as a daughter. The woman who’d married for money and couldn’t even succeed at that for two months. The one thing Rafael had asked her to do was stay away from Doug, and she’d blown it.

  Dejected, she moved one foot after another, doing what she was told. That was easier than thinking. PJ’s friend offered to drive Esme’s truck home, and Rafael insisted she ride with him.

  “Why, Esmeralda? How could you have done the only thing I asked you not to do? Sitting at a bar drinking with that—that bastard.” He shook his head. “I expected more of you.”

  After that, neither of them spoke until they got home.

  “There’ll be cell phone pictures and gossip,” he said, stopping her when she moved to unfasten the seat belt. “There’s no getting away from it.”

  “If there’s no getting away from it, then there’s no need to talk about it.” She pushed his hand away and unbuckled the seat belt. “I’m sorry, though, Rafael. Believe it or not, I thought just once I’d be the good guy.” She smiled faintly. “I’m not up to dinner.” She slid out and made her escape, still on unsteady legs.

  Rafael never came upstairs. She waited for him, wanting to explain, wanting him to understand that she hadn’t done it out of pride or stubbornness. She’d really thought maybe there was something to Doug’s claim that the Bentons just couldn’t accept his love for Cody. She couldn’t quit thinking about Beto’s phone call, followed by Doug’s insistence that she drink another beer. What could he have wanted? To spite Rafael, maybe? Be caught in some public display with the enemy’s new bride? Or had Beto been the ringleader, wanting—God knows what he might have wanted.

  She glanced at her clock. Almost two in the morning, and she was alone. They hadn’t risked sharing the bed since . . . since the night they’d risked their hearts and made love. But he’d always been next door. She’d spent hours hoping he’d knock. Or just open the door. He never had, but now, knowing the room next door was empty chilled her.

  Early the next morning, she got up and dressed, then went downstairs. The whole family seemed to have disappeared, although Connie greeted her warmly and offered her breakfast.

  “Connie, where is everyone?” she asked.

  “The Bentons left. They took Justin back to Houston.”

  “Why?”

  “I wish I knew. Broke Rafael’s heart, and when they left—he took off somewhere. I don’t know where.”

  “Thanks, Connie.”

  “Do you really want to know what happened?” Marie asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Your brother tried to press charges against Rafael. He keeps telling the sheriff that Rafael paid to have him beaten up. “

  “No one can believe that.”

 
; “No. But it harassed Rafael just enough to make him snap. Your brother started mouthing off about you, and Rafael hit him—in front of the deputy who was just about to let him go. They didn’t arrest him, but you know a lawyer will get him for everything he can.”

  “And Justin?”

  “The Bentons got worried about all the gossip and talk going around and thought they should take him home.”

  “This is Truth. There’s always gossip.”

  “Well, not like this. Someone started saying you told Bounty you’d sleep with him if he’d just agree to let the Bentons keep Justin. Said you pretending to be drugged was just part of an act to keep Rafael from going off and killing someone.”

  “Nobody can believe garbage like that. There were blood tests.”

  “Look,” Marie said with finality. “I don’t think half the folks here believe any of the stuff they hear—but they repeat it and spread it and butter it up. Rafael’s the joke of the day, with a philandering wife a few days after the wedding.

  “And to make it worse—someone let slip that you and Rafael married for money.”

  “How—who could have known that except you?”

  Marie shrugged. “Funny how you can take pictures of documents and share them with a whole town, isn’t it? See you.”

  • • •

  Esme was packed by the time she heard Rafael come up the stairs. He walked into the room, and her heart broke. He looked so tired. And so broken. Losing Justin must be destroying him. Maybe he’d go home to Houston. Nothing could hold him here in this town of lies and bitterness.

  “What . . . ?” He looked at her neat piles of suitcases and boxes.

  “I can’t stay, Rafael. How can I? I did the one thing you asked me not to do, and Justin’s gone. My aunt and brother will keep trying to use me against you until . . . they won’t stop.”

  “I can deal with that, Esmeralda.”

  “You shouldn’t have to.” She walked over and laid her palm on his cheek. “You kept me from falling apart when I found out who I really am. Thank you.” She stepped away, picking up one of the boxes. “I need to leave Domatrix for a while. I don’t know where I’m going. But I can’t stay here where all the lies will destroy us, Rafael. Marie told me a photo of our contract came out.”

 

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