Restoring Passion

by Sandra Kyle

  When Brian was murdered. She finished the dangling statement for him in her head.

  “Main thing right now is to focus on controlling what we can and protect our intellectual property,” Jack reminded. “The police are going to do their job and continue their investigation. We cooperate, like Mitchum suggested, with counsel in place.”

  “The fact that the story has been all over the news in Savannah and Atlanta doesn’t give us a lot of control in the narrative.” She shook her head. “It’s only a matter of time before my connection with Brian gets out. And by association, his connection.” Vanessa pointed at Daniel.

  Jack put down the menu. “The police doing their job well is what we want. If they aren’t sloppy, they’ll keep those details under wraps. Leaks and information dumps like that jeopardize cases.” He grabbed his beer and chugged. “I’m getting a burger. What are you getting?” He nodded to Vanessa.

  “Not very hungry.”

  “You have to eat something.” Daniel’s tone held his concern.

  “I’ll just have a salad.” She slid the menu to the empty place setting beside her.

  Daniel raised a brow. “You never get a salad.”

  Jack’s phone lit up on the table. “Ah, I’ve got to take this. Be right back. Order for me, Danny? Angus burger, extra cheddar, no tomato.” He got up and zigzagged his way between the angled dinner tables.

  Vanessa dunked her straw in and out of her tea.

  Daniel spoke up after a minute. “Thanks for coming to the meeting.”

  “It had to be done.”

  “Yeah, but you could have said no. Surprised you didn’t say no to dinner.” He gave her a slight smile. “I know you’re regretting saying yes. But I’m glad we can sit at the same table together outside of a lawyer’s office.”

  The tiny hint of his smile made her stomach flip. She raised a finger in defense. “Don’t go getting all charming.”

  A genuine look of shock replaced his smile. “I didn’t mean to…”

  “I know, you don’t mean to be charming or disarming or swoon-inducing.”

  “Vanessa, please, I’m sorry. I’ll dampen down my irresistibility.” He traced the sign of a cross with a finger over his heart. “I promise.”

  She narrowed her lids. “Go ahead. Feed into my irrational behavior and be a smartass in the process. That will work extremely well for you.”

  He straightened up in his seat. His presence doubled in size. “I’ve gotta try, you know that.”

  “Waitress has two more minutes, and then I’m out of here.” She looked at her watch. A quick glance onto the street and she spotted Jack yards away on the sidewalk, studying the both of them in the booth. When they made eye contact, he stiffened and absentmindedly went back to his phone conversation. If there’s even anyone on the other end. Goosebumps raised up on her forearms. She side-eyed Daniel. “You and Jack probably planned this whole dinner thing, too, didn’t you?”

  He raised a hand. “I had nothing to do with this.”

  Her hands tunneled under the table and rested on her lap. “Jack and Marly then. I don’t like feeling ambushed. I’ve had too much of that lately, as is.”

  “I know. I was surprised he even bothered to suggest it.” He leaned forward on his elbows, crossed his arms, and stared out the window. His biceps bulged. The short sleeves of his button-up shirt threatened to tear at the pressure of his muscles. Vanessa forced her eyes to search for the waitress. Even with everything that had happened, her body still responded to him with an ache and wanting. Et tu, hormones? “Did you like living here?” he asked.

  “I didn’t hate it.”

  “I never really wanted to know about your life with him,” he mumbled.

  “I noticed. After that one long talk we had, it seemed like you had all of the information you needed.”

  “Leaving things in the past is kind of my specialty.” His blue eyes sparkled.

  And running from them is mine. “I’ve got to go.” She hopped her way on the seat toward the aisle. “Let me know if you find out anything.” She pushed through the line of waiting patrons, out the door. She met Jack’s disappointed eyes without a word. She turned, oriented herself for a moment, and then walked in the direction of the garage where she parked a couple hours prior.

  I didn’t hate it here, she’d confirmed. Just never fit in. The pulse of Atlanta did not match her inner rhythm. It always felt faster, hurried, two beats ahead of what she preferred. Brian didn’t help matters with his go-go attitude. There was no chance he’d escape from under the thumb of Daddy Lancaster. I’m only kidding myself thinking he actually wanted out of that life anyway. It only makes the narrative more tragic. This is fucked up, but it isn’t Shakespeare.

  Vanessa hated herself in that moment. Her pace picked up, and she flew up the steps of the parking garage to her level. What kind of person am I to not even give a shit about the demise of the man I was with for years? I was going to marry him for God’s sake.

  I always used to identify with poor Ophelia, when really I’m more like Lady “Out, out, damn spot” MacBeth.

  No wonder I’m a suspect.

  *

  Monica nibbled on a slice of bread the waiter had brought to the table. “Who would have thought you and I would be one of those ladies who lunch?”

  “Technically, I’m just a hanger-on.” Vanessa tipped her water glass and took a sip.

  “Gary’s promotion means more meetings on the golf course.” Monica arched an eyebrow. “At least that was his excuse when he told me we were members at the Wilmington Island Club.”

  Vanessa fidgeted in the large padded club chair. The ornate dark wood throughout the restaurant would have overwhelmed most interiors. Its saving grace was the bright sunshine spilling in from the ample amount of arched windows. There were only half a dozen or so others in the restaurant, including the bartender, this Wednesday afternoon. And none of them were ladies who lunch. The clientele were men of a senior age. She wondered what, if any, type of crowd filled the seats during dinnertime. She dug the sole of her shoe into the garnet rug patterned with cream-colored squares. “And to think you’ve been hogging this experience all for yourself the past few months.”

  She whispered in the not-whispering way only Monica could. “I can’t stand it here.”

  “And you wanted to share it with me?”

  “What are friends for?” Monica laughed.

  Vanessa managed a chuckle.

  “There are only so many places we can go that don’t have Danny attached to it.”

  “I appreciate the thoughtfulness, Monica.”

  “I can only imagine how hard this is for you. If Gary had done…” She clamped her mouth shut. “Anyway, you need a break from the constant reminders. I have found this is a good place to meet new clients for a business lunch.”

  “Way to make the situation work for you.” The waiter came back and deposited their matching Cobb salads onto their place settings. They thanked him and dug into lunch. “Are things going well?”

  Monica shrugged. “Going to slow down during the summer like it always does. Vacations and family getaways take over for most of the people that use my marketing services. You would think they’d need me more around this time.” She shrugged again. “But I get to spend more of it with Jackie, so it’s all good. She’s growing so fast I can’t stand it.”

  “I can’t believe she starts first grade in a couple months.”

  Monica clamped her hands over her ears in a dramatic gesture. “Nope. Don’t want to hear that.”

  Vanessa laughed.

  She went back to stabbing the lettuce on her plate. “I guess it’s a good thing you and Danny never…”

  “Mon, if you keep biting your tongue like that it’s going to become a part of your meal.” Vanessa prodded her friend to finish. “I’m not a porcelain doll. You can’t break me with a couple sentences.”

  “I was going to say it’s a good thing you and Danny never got pregnant.” When V
anessa didn’t respond, Monica dropped her fork onto the plate. “You aren’t, are you?”

  Vanessa shook her head. “No. We knew going into the whole marriage thing that neither one of us wanted kids. Definitely not right away, anyway.”

  “Well, you’ve told me that before, but wonderful little accidents happen.”

  Vanessa ignored her friend’s opinion that an accidental pregnancy could be wonderful.

  “Remember how Brian used to say he would change your mind about kids?”

  The name triggered a wall of defense. “Why are you talking about him... now?”

  “I’m sorry. You’ve always been so adamant about not wanting kids. I could tell Brian wanted them, when we would talk about our futures in college. How do you know Danny really doesn’t want them?”

  “Because he said so,” Vanessa retorted.

  Monica waved a hand. “Not that it matters now. It’s obvious Danny’s not the most upfront person. It’s amazing how someone can build up a persona that’s so unlike their true nature.”

  It felt as though all of the blood in Vanessa’s system rushed straight to her head. “You know, Mon, it’s possible Gary just went along with having a kid because you really wanted one. We all do things to please our significant others from time to time that aren’t always a priority for ourselves. That doesn’t have anything to do with honesty. It has more to do with giving a crap about the other person and making a sacrifice.”

  “Let’s not get into a debate. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

  “I agree.” Vanessa nodded.

  A few minutes of stilted conversation eventually flowed into the usual, easygoing chat. Lunch lasted another half-hour. Disappointed by the salad, comprised of bacon that could chip a tooth and limp lettuce well past its freshness date, Vanessa only managed to consume the boiled eggs and chicken. Attempting to extoll the other positive aspects of club membership, Monica offered Vanessa a tour of the club grounds.

  They walked along a winding concrete path. “I’m thinking of taking some tennis lessons.” Monica pointed to the green courts coming up on the left of their stroll. The courts were enclosed with ten-foot-high chain link fencing. A couple were volleying a tennis ball back and forth over the net. “What do you think?” She grabbed Vanessa’s elbow. “You should come with me. I can bring a friend in for a freebie.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Oh, come on. You ran track.”

  Vanessa chuckled. “That was years ago, back in high school.”

  “Just come with me for one, help me get my feet wet.” Monica pleaded with puppy-dog eyes.

  “I’ll think about it.” She buried a groan emerging from the back of her throat. “I’m in horrible shape.”

  “You have to start somewhere.” A ringing from her phone interrupted Monica. “Oh, I’ve got to pick Jackie up from her play date in an hour. I want to run an errand before.” She walked with purpose ahead of Vanessa toward a car lot.

  Vanessa surveyed the area to get a sense of her parking location. “I got all turned around when I arrived.” She pointed in the direction they came from. “I think I’m this way.”

  Monica bounced back and hugged her. “All right. I’ll talk to you soon.”

  “See ya.” A tingle crept up Vanessa’s spine. I am so out of place here. Let’s hope I don’t get stopped by security. She adjusted the purse strap over her shoulder, ensured she still had the visitor’s pass printed out for her at the front desk when she first arrived, and strolled like she belonged.

  Why the hell did she have to bring up Brian? And what was the whole kid thing? Anger brewed. Like I needed another reminder about how everything has fallen apart with Daniel. It’s only on my mind twenty-four-seven.

  Maybe it’s a loyalty thing. Dad’s been bad-mouthing him, too, since he found out. Vanessa berated herself for defending Daniel. He probably does deserve some of the vitriol.

  The faux certainty and distracted thoughts had her taking a fork in the road. The scent of wildflowers popping up in random patches filled her nose. She realized the absence of manicured boxwoods, after some time had slipped away. The foliage had been replaced by trees. A staked sign indicated she was now on a hiking path in the club’s wooded area. Well, shit. Two well-preserved ladies power-walked past in the opposite direction, eyeing her up and down with suspicion. Vanessa plastered on a smile. They inhaled and exhaled in unison, nostrils flaring.

  Vanessa exerted some effort up a slight incline to escape their cosmetic-surgery-assisted stares. She turned a corner. A square-shaped, concrete-poured structure came into view on her right. Near it on the grass perched a lone picnic bench. The sign above the double doors noted the building was for staff only. A padlock secured and prohibited entrance. She took the opportunity to sit, seeking shade from the heat. Sweat dripped down her temple. I’ll go back the way I came after a few minutes. Give the Witches of Eastwick a good head start.

  A mumbling around the shed corner stiffened her posture. “Why do you need me to say we were together the Saturday night before Memorial Day?” Vanessa instinctively trained her hearing to the conversation.

  “I just need you to. In case anyone asks.” Her eyes widened at the instantly recognizable voice of Mabel Fitz-Davis.

  “Who’s going to ask? I’m not comfortable lying for you, Mabel. And Mr. Fitz-Davis definitely won’t like thinking we were together outside of your lessons.”

  “Please, Cammie. Archie wasn’t in town or else I could get him to…” She trailed off.

  “Cover for you?” A shuffle indicated the two were approaching the path.

  Shit, shit, shit. The last thing Vanessa needed was to appear to be spying on the woman whose home her estranged husband was renovating and filming. She can’t see me. Vanessa crept up from the bench and channeled all of her past track skills in that moment. She darted and weaved around the other corner and hugged the back of the shed, out of sight.

  “Cameron, I’d be indebted to you. It’s a little white one. I know you didn’t go back home that weekend. Were you out on a date with someone?”

  “We need to get back to the courts. Your one o’clock lesson will start soon.” Vanessa caught sight of the pair walking down the hill. The broad shoulders and athletic build of a tall black man, dressed in tennis attire, belonged to Mabel’s companion. His profile looked worried and uncomfortable. He scanned the area and slipped his sunglasses on. “Please, Mabel. Don’t follow me all over the grounds. I’ll get reprimanded by my boss. Jim is tracking me like a hawk as it is.”

  “I can’t talk about this over the phone.” Mabel’s whispering tone hinted at frustration. Her fit figure was wrapped in loud, colorful leggings and a white tank top.

  “Does this have anything to do with that guy you brought in for a lesson? The one all over the news? It can’t be a coincidence that you need an alibi for that same day.”

  “Shh.” Mabel raised her voice. Her head spun around, and she canvassed the area like an owl.

  The rest of their conversation trailed away, out of earshot, as they disappeared from view. A swarm of gnats buzzed around Vanessa’s head. She swatted them away, heart racing, waiting out her time.

  She closed her eyes and concentrated on her breathing. Thoughts crashed in an instant. Her lids bolted open.

  Saturday before Memorial Day? Guy all over the news? Brian?

  She shook her head.

  Can’t be. My mind is in overdrive.

  The coast was clear when she ventured her gaze around the corner. Tentative steps trampled through the bushes.

  Vanessa hopped onto the gravel path. Dirt and blades of grass covered her light-colored capri pants. She swatted away the debris in an attempt to make herself presentable. A pull on her ponytail and smoothing of side strands adjusted her blonde hair. The odor of sweat, brought about by unexpected stress and heat exposure, met her nose.

  Wasting no time once she exited the hiking trail, Vanessa avoided the courts and went in search of her truck
in another parking lot that held some familiarity. Some minutes passed in vain until it materialized rows away behind a club van.

  What if it is Brian?

  The comforting interior welcomed her. She turned the ignition. The phone rang in her purse. The cheery ringtone that identified Daniel was calling sounded muffled and faraway. Even now, her body responded to the conditioning. Her heart rate elevated. But an undertone of grief accompanied the exhilaration. Voicemail answered. Successive and deliberate inhales and exhales followed. She eventually rummaged through her purse to glance at the screen. Pops and shuffles blared from her phone’s speaker as she played back the message. It was another buttt dial from her estranged husband. Her heart sank, wishing she could hear his voice.

  I need to talk to Daniel.

  Chapter Six

  The mounds of sand and piles of stone had been Daniel’s perfect escape. A busy morning of filming at the Fitz-Davis beach house left his mind buzzing with ideas. What to do with the patio area overlooking the beach was on the film crew’s to-do list for next week.

  He wasn’t a landscaper, but Daniel knew what materials he had envisioned for the property. Henry’ll take care of me. Pickups and trailers streamed along the industrial section of Garden City. He’d come to call it the Contractor’s Playground, with its warehouses and one-stop shopping for almost any construction supply one might need. The whole area smelled of a work site in its infancy stage to Daniel. Barren, deconstructed, devoid of any natural elements, and full of possibility that came to fruition by good old-fashioned manual labor.

  Daniel had found Henry by the rows of sand mountains, cinder block walls between them to hinder the adulterating of sediments. Henry’s large, crepe-paper-looking fingers dug into the side of a sand pile as he explained the properties to a bewildered older gentlemen. The sand slipped out of his open palm like water. His tanned, lined face recognized Daniel across the way with a raise of graying, bushy eyebrows that disappeared under his baseball cap. He tapped his hands and prodded the client to come see him when he’d made a decision.