by Emery, Lynn
“I want you.” He sat close to her without touching. Waves of desire made his voice unsteady. His body ached to press tightly to hers. Though it was excruciating not to clutch her, he sensed Savannah’s need to wait.
“It’s just, not yet. Let’s take our time.” Savannah sighed shakily.
“Listen, I won’t tell you that I’m a virgin. But I have been careful in selecting my partners, and I used condoms,” Paul said.
“I’ve been careful, too. It’s not that, though that is important. I just think we should spend more time getting close emotionally.”
“I’m not him, Savannah.” Paul spoke in a gentle voice.
“Being with you is what I want, but…” Savannah’s voice broke as a tear escaped and rolled down her cheek.
“I want to be with you, Savannah. Sexual attraction is only part of what I feel for you, not even the biggest part.” He held her close, his hands locked at her waist.
“Two hurts back to back would be too much.” Savannah’s eyes brimmed with tears. Fighting not to cry, she stared at her hands folded in her lap. “Before giving myself to anyone, I want to be sure I really know who he is. Not who I want him to be. Can you understand?”
“Yes, baby. Let’s start right now,” Paul said, his lips close to her ear.
They talked for hours about family, high school, his work. Finally, she told him why she had returned to Beau Chene.
“I trusted Devin. I mean, when I came on board he took me under his wing. He pretended to anyway.”
“Are you sure he’s not still important to you?” Paul pulled back and searched her face.
“Positive.” She kissed long and hard.
“I’m sorry about what happened in Shreveport, but I’m glad you came back when you did.” Paul breathed in the smell of her hair.
“I’d better get going,” Savannah spoke faintly against his chest. Despite her words, she shut her eyes and snuggled closer.
“Stay a little while longer, babe,” he spoke into her hair.
“My God, it’s three o’clock. No telling what Tante Marie or Poppy think.” Savannah giggled, as she slipped her shoes on and straightened her sweater. Giving him one last hug, she started to go.
“They think what I think, that you’re a fabulous lady with respect for herself.”
Chapter 5
The house looked exactly as Paul had imagined, large and elegant. It not only spoke of money, lots of it, but of old money. Set back from the highway at the end of a long, winding drive, a large veranda on both floors stretched the length of the house. Huge white columns, four in fact, were equally spaced along the front. Without a trace of envy, Paul admired the beautiful oak and magnolia trees flanking the drive. They spread out over the acres surrounding the Trosclair big house. As he parked his Jeep, Paul wondered not for the first time the purpose of his being summoned here. He could not help but think of Savannah and what she would make of this visit. As much as he hated keeping secrets from her, he had more than just himself to consider. Catching himself straightening his collar for the third time, he felt foolish. Resisting the impulse to check his appearance in the rear view mirror once more, he mounted the wide steps to the door.
“My Lord,” The stout black woman who opened half of the double front doors stood for a moment, her eyes wide. “I mean, uh, how do, suh.” She stepped back and motioned him to come in.
“I’m here to see Mr. Trosclair.” Paul fidgeted under her stare. “Something wrong, ma’am?”
“Humm, oh no child. Just gettin’ to be old and slow. I’m Louise. Come on in here. Mr. Claude’s in the library.” She grabbed his arm, then seemed to think better of it and let go. “Right in here.” Smiling, she looked at him from head to toe.
Paul would have continued puzzling over her strange reaction to him had not the room he had been ushered into overwhelmed him. He gazed at the floor to ceiling bookcases lined with both leather bound classics and contemporary works. His eyes traveled from the ceiling to the beautiful Persian carpet that covered most of the floor. Spaced about the room were leather arm chairs, tapestry settees. Arranged around the fireplace were three large antique sofa upholstered in different patterns but with the same emerald greens, ruby reds, warm beiges, and muted yellows of the carpet and other pieces in the room. Fine art work, including Audubon prints, hung along the walls. The late afternoon sunlight shone brightly through the full length windows framed by rich dark green draperies held back with ornate sashes.
“Glad you could come young man.” Standing near a large mantel, Claude had allowed Paul time to take in the room. “Here, have a seat.”
“Thank you, yes.” Paul recovered enough to realize he was still stood in the door.
“I’m gonna be right back with y’all some coffee,” Louise said.Paul started at the voice that came over his shoulder. Turning around, he was again favored with a wide affectionate smile. Nodding encouragingly for him to make himself at home, she then bustled off humming a tune.
“Thank you, Louise. Been working for us for over forty years now. She was only fifteen when she started taking care of us. You haven’t lived until you’ve tasted her pecan pie. Just like a member of the family.”
“Oh really?” Paul wondered how Louise felt about that.
“Your family live near here, Mr. Honorè?” Claude sat opposite Paul.
“In Crowley.” Paul had prepared himself for this kind if question. Watching Claude’s expression, he was reassured that this was only polite conversation. “My mother and father live there.”
“Nice little town. Ah, here we go. Louise is just as famous for making a wonderful cup of coffee. Umm, perfect as usual.” Claude savored the first sip.
“Claude, there is a strange vehicle in our driveway. Oh, hello.” Mrs. Trosclair came into the room looking over her shoulder, but upon turning to find a stranger in her home stopped abruptly. She wore a dark blue dress, a lacy shawl draped around her shoulders. The tiny pear-shaped pearl earrings she wore accented her delicate features. Her dark hair mixed with grey, was done in a single French braid and pinned back. She was not a beauty, but she was a handsome woman who appeared to be at least ten years younger than her husband.
“Mr. Honorè, this is my wife.““Pleased to meet you, ma’am.” Paul rose to greet her.
“Mr. Honorè is here on business, dear,” Claude said.
“Really? I so seldom get to meet my husband’s business associates. What business are you in, Mr. Honorè?” Mrs. Trosclair motioned for Paul to sit down. With practiced grace, she sank down onto a settee careful to arrange her skirt. All done with the fluid motions of a southern belle veteran of countless teas and Junior League meetings.
“I’m an environmental engineer.”
“My, that sounds very interesting. Are you from Beau Chene?” Mrs. Trosclair inquired; her delicate voice had the silky southern drawl so common to female members of the old families.
“No, ma’am, Crowley. I’m just in town to complete a survey on the Big River Plant your husband’s corporation is operating.”
“My, my, Claude and Kyle sure stirred up some folks with that one. Is true that those materials they handle there are dangerous? Why I heard on the news the other
day—”
“Annadine, we have important matters to take care of now. Will you excuse us?” Claude gave her a chilly smile, and then glanced away at some distant object.
“Why of course. Yes, you go right ahead. Yes. I’m sorry, Claude.” Annadine stood wringing her hands in quick jerky movements. She wore an anxious frown.
“Go on now.” Claude got up and guided her out of the room. “I’m sure you’re wondering why I asked you to meet me without Singleton or Quentin.”
“Yes, I am frankly.” Paul said.
“The work you did was excellent. You didn’t take sides. Your report is thorough and objective. Very impressive.”
“Thank you.”
“From my sources in Baton Rouge, I think it’s fair to say that the plant will be bu
ilt. And when it is completed, Batton Chemical will continue to need your expertise. In fact, we have several sites around the state and in Texas that would benefit from an analysis of their procedures in protecting the environment surrounding them.” Claude paused to take another sip from his cup.
“I don’t know what to say, it’s quite a compliment. But there are larger operations than ours with a track record of handling big corporate clients. Why me?
“Big isn’t necessarily better, and I like your work. My family has lived in this area for over two hundred years. We have always tried to help this community and people working for us. We look after our own. Besides, I think knowing that you will be working with us to monitor the plant’s operations will do much to reassure those with concerns.”
“Is that so?” Paul put down his cup.
“You have credibility with our opponents. I want them to trust that we will make safety a priority.”
“I see.”
“Of course, I don’t expect an answer today. I understand that you will want to discuss this with your partner.”
“Yes, certainly. It would definitely be a big step for us. In a lot of ways.” Paul instantly thought of Savannah.
“It certainly would, not to mention the possibility of work for other companies in this area. With all the pressure from the public and government, many of our business associates would almost certainly be interested in having you do some work for them.”
“What is going on here? You are offering him a contract without consulting me or Kyle?” Quentin came into the room and stood before his father with his back to Paul.
“I mentioned it to Kyle last week. He agrees that it would—”
“I see. When did you plan to mention it to me? Apparently it slipped your mind that I happen to be vice president of operations.”
“You have been tied up with other things; we were going to discuss it with you Thursday.” Growing very still, Claude spoke with an even voice, his face blank of expression.
“No, we weren’t going to discuss it. You were going to tell me what you decided to do behind my back!” Quentin shouted.
“This is a business move that’s to our advantage for many reasons. This isn’t the first time that a decision has been made without you being in on it from the start. Kyle andI—”
“Yes, that’s right. You and Kyle, but mostly you. As vice president of operations this should be my decision. And I think we should go with a larger company with more experience dealing with large businesses like ours.”
“Quentin, using a small contractor with no ties to the big names with credibility with environmentalist is what we need. If you stopped throwing this childish temper tantrum for a few minutes you might see that.” Claude stood up and faced his grandson.
“Listen, this is a big step that I would have had to talk over with my partner anyway. Since it’s obvious you need to kick it around some, I’ll be on my way.” Paul started for the door.
“I apologize for my grandson’s behavior. He seems to think good manners are unnecessary in business discussions.”
“I wouldn’t have even been part of this discussion if I hadn’t happened to get in from Dallas early. Honorè, you may have my grandfather dazzled, but not me. This blatant attempt to cash in on our success won’t work.” Quentin’s voice barked angrily as he glared first at Claude then turned his ire to Paul. The muscles in his jaws were tight knots showing his barely contained fury.
“We were doing just fine before we got this bid, and we’ll survive when this job is over. I started my company without help from my granddaddy to make me vice president. Who the hell are you to accuse me of trying to hitch a ride on somebody else’s coat tails?” Paul gave a harsh contemptuous laugh.
“Let’s see how well you do after I spread the word. You won’t be able to work for free.” Quentin came towards them, but Claude shoved him back into the library with surprising force for his age.
“Get real, you have no contacts. You’ve already been trying to bad mouth us, it just happens that we have a solid reputation. Yeah, I know about your little campaign. It hasn’t worked. And if I ever hear you’ve been spreading negative comments about my work you’ll have a lawsuit on your hands.” Paul came back to the door to the library.
“Is this how you prove to me that you can make major decisions? What next? Are you going to hold your breath until I do what you want?” Claude whirled around to face his grandson. Though his voice never rose, his tone was withering.
“Grandfather, I—” Quentin stammered, his anger melting under Claude’s glare.
“That is quite enough for now. Go put up your things. We’ll talk about this later.” Claude dismissed him as though he were a naughty little boy.
Quentin flushed deeply. As he left, he shot Paul a fiery look of hatred. Without another word he raced up the large staircase.
“I apologize again for that ugly scene. Quentin is a bit high strung. My wife tended to spoil him I’m afraid after my son and daughter-in-law died in a car accident when he was only six. He’ll come around though. His feelings are hurt that I didn’t ask him first, that’s all.”
“Sounds like there’s more to it than that.” Paul shook his head.
“Believe me, that’s all it is. Now, talk to your partner and get back to us. No rush really. We can work out the details later.” Claude walked him to the front door.
“We’ll consider your offer carefully. But we have as much work as we can handle right now. Besides, your vice president of operations objects. That could be a big problem to any kind of working relationship.” Paul walked to his car.
“I’ll handle Quentin. Let me know soon.” Claude shook hands with Paul and clapped his shoulder.
Paul nodded and was about to get into his car when a movement from a second story window caught his eye. Quentin stood staring down at him, a stony look on his face. Claude stood on the large veranda smiling and waving goodbye to him. As he drove away, Paul could sense both sets of eyes following his exit.
*****
“So, what did he want?” Savannah fidgeted with the objects on Paul’s desk. She tried to make it sound like a casual question. They had been walking a tightrope, avoiding his connection to the Trosclair and Batton Chemical. This was the subject that they both feared to discuss at any great length. But she couldn’t help it. When news of Paul’s visit spread, which was inevitable in tiny Beau Chene, all her suspicions came rushing back.
“He wants to throw more business my way. He was pleased with my report.” Paul answered without looking at her. After arranging the silverware on the small dining table, he went back and served their plates straight from the wok. He put the plate of steaming vegetable down. “Dinner is served, Madam.” He made a little bow.
“How much business?” Savannah still did not look at him, but showed an intense concentration in arranging the napkin in her lap.
“You know, do some follow-up reviews on the new plant. Take a look at some of their other plants. Here you go, add just a dash of soy sauce to make my wonder dish perfect.”
“Thanks. Sounds like more than a little business to me. Sounds like a major deal that can get you into some serious cash flow.” Savannah pushed the vegetables around on her plate.
“Like I said, he likes my work.” Paul’s tone took on an edge.
“I guess so. You supported his claim that the site is just fine for his big toxic producing business that is going to make him even richer.”
“My report is based on facts. The fact is the site he chose is not unsuitable. The heat process to be used is within current regulations. And there is no evidence that the product that comes will not be handled safely or safe to use.”
“No, they just want to put it in our community not theirs. Look around, Paul. The dumps, the chemical plants, the refineries surround us. Why don’t they crowd the rich white folks? Why didn’t you look at other sites? Trosclair’s backyard for example.” Savannah stabbed angrily at large piece
of broccoli.
“I was asked to evaluate that site, that’s all. That’s what I did. It wasn’t my job to make judgments or locate an alternative.”
“But you could have. You still can.” Savannah leaned forward.
“Drop it, will you? I don’t want to be caught in the middle of this battle. I did what I was paid to do. Fighting the permit is up to your father and his group.”
“Oh, right. You don’t want to jeopardize your fat deal. All that money would take wings and fly if you did the right thing.”
“Why am I always defending myself to you when it comes to this?” Paul threw down his fork.
“Because you are helping these creeps poison this town, that’s why!”
“If you have bothered to read my entire report, you would know they made all of the changes in their emission control systems I suggested even before my report was issued. The last recommendation made was to look at a location further from here so as not to saturate this area.”
“Thrown in at the last minute just to appease the opposition. How does it go? Oh yeah, `It may be advisable to look further down the river since two other major plants are fairly close to this site’.”
“One reason I started my business was to find a way to help plants operate safely so our people can have jobs without sacrificing their health. I resent like hell that you accuse me of not caring,” Paul said, his voice taut with outrage.
“Trosclair got this plant the same way he’s gotten everything else in life, political pull. Doesn’t it bother you he didn’t follow the rules? Rules that are in place to protect the public? Those blinders you’re wearing need to come off.” Savannah shot back.
“That may be, but at this point it doesn’t matter anymore. There will always be men using influence to get what they want. I happen to think being part of the process can make a difference. We can make them that much more accountable.”
“So far nothing you’ve said makes me think anything but Trosclair has you for show. He’s so good that you’re even convinced. Meeting with him about making changes. Ha! As if he interested in what you think.” Savannah gave a short laugh empty of mirth.