Bluegrass Seduction (The Bluegrass Billionaire Trilogy 01) - Alice Ward

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CONTENTS $0.99 NEWSLETTERS GET YOUR FREE BOOK CONNECT WITH US T ITLE PAGE BOOK DESCRIPTION CHAPTER ONE CHAPTER T WO CHAPTER T HREE CHAPTER FOUR CHAPTER FIVE CHAPTER SIX CHAPTER SEVEN CHAPTER EIGHT CHAPTER NINE CHAPTER T EN CHAPTER ELEVEN CHAPTER T WELVE CHAPTER T HIRTEEN CHAPTER FOURTEEN CHAPTER FIFTEEN CHAPTER SIXTEEN CHAPTER SEVENTEEN CHAPTER EIGHTEEN CHAPTER NINETEEN CHAPTER T WENTY CHAPTER T WENTY- ONE CHAPTER T WENTY- T WO CHAPTER T WENTY- T HREE CHAPTER T WENTY- FOUR CHAPTER T WENTY- FIVE CHAPTER T WENTY- SIX CHAPTER T WENTY- SEVEN

CHAPTER T WENTY- EIGHT CHAPTER T WENTY- NINE CHAPTER T HIRTY CHAPTER T HIRTY- ONE CHAPTER T HIRTY- T WO CHAPTER T HIRTY- T HREE CHAPTER T HIRTY- FOUR CHAPTER T HIRTY- FIVE CHAPTER T HIRTY- SIX CHAPTER T HIRTY- SEVEN EPILOGUE $0.99 NEWSLETTERS GET YOUR FREE BOOK CONNECT WITH US MORE BY ALICE WARD MORE BY JESSICA BLAKE SHARE YOUR T HOUGHTS ABOUT THE AUTHORS COPYRIGHT AND DISCLAIMER

BOOK DESCRIPTION Willful and self-entitled, Auggie Langford has enjoyed privilege all her life. The daughter of a wealthy equine family in Kentucky, her life is ideal. Except for her bitch of a mother. And the man who makes her insides twist. Bent on embarrassing his father, Worthington LaViere, III uses his position as a highly respected psychologist to delve into the secrets he wants to explore. Especially the old money of the Bluegrass set. And Auggie. The green-eyed temptress he’s unable to strike from his thoughts. Auggie and Worth. Pure and corrupt. Love and hate. It’s the beginning of a dynasty built on a legacy of greed, selfishness and pure wickedness. Just remember, anything built on a foundation of lies can topple at any moment. “Bluegrass Seduction” is a standalone novel, the first in the sizzling “Bluegrass Billionaire Trilogy” by Alice Ward and Jessica Blake.

CHAPTER ONE Worth I woke to sensations of burning, each somewhat different but all equally unpleasant. I rather reluctantly dealt with the most pressing first, as I leaned over the edge of the bed and emptied my stomach into an empty pizza box. It occurred to me that one must give to receive and the box had just been rewarded with its end of the deal. I rinsed with whatever liquid remained in the glass on the nightstand, but it didn’t taste much better. The second and third burning sensations seemed to emanate from the same source — the eastfacing grimy window that brazenly spewed the hot morning’s sun into my eyes and heated the room, magnified by the stench that was my body. I debated rising long enough to close the stained fiberglass drapes and decided it would not be enough. With a curse, I rolled off the bed, carefully avoiding the pizza box and headed in the direction of where I expected the bathroom to be. Sure enough, a little fumbling on the inside wall and the flickering gray light of an old, overhead fluorescent slowly shocked itself on. I could identify with how the old thing must feel. I turned on the shower as hot as it could get, reasoning that, by comparison, the room would feel cool, but it was also experiencing a deflated morning and barely kept the goosebumps away. It wasn’t until I wrapped myself in the yellowish towel and watched a roach scurry down my leg that it occurred to me. Where the hell am I? After using my finger and some putrid water to sort of rub my teeth clean, I rummaged on the floor near the bed until I found enough crumpled clothing to be allowed in public. As I pushed open the entrance door with the shattered glass, I was amazed once again that no matter how bad you felt at one moment, you could always feel worse. The humidity of the August morning was already in the upper ninety percent and hit me like a wall of water. I thought it might be more therapeutic than the shower I’d just had. I found my cell still in my pants pocket and tapped for a taxi I kept on auto-dial. I was no novice at this. They knew me, by name and by face. The cab’s cool interior prompted me to doze off again as it headed toward the farm. My father, Worthington LaViere, II — which incidentally made me Worthington LaViere, III, Worth to my friends or Worthless to those who knew me best — was waiting in the shade of the paddock, a mint julep resting in his iron-grip. We LaVieres were known for our ability to drink, and he was no exception. He emerged long enough to stuff a hundred into the hand of the driver and motioned him to drag me out of the back seat… again. The grizzled driver was kind. My cheek was only mildly grazed by the mulch in the flowerbed Mother had lining the drive. Mother had flowers lining everything. It was the grace she exuded to counter my father ’s far cruder tendencies. I wondered how long I might get away with lying there, but my father quickly answered that question. “Get your ass up and in the house!” he snapped in a growl colored with decades of Cuban cigars and Kentucky bourbon. “I want you clean and presentable in half an hour. Jervis is comin’ by

for cocktails and damned if you’re not goin’ to be sittin’ in the chair like the cock of the walk when he gets here. Hear me, boy?” I avoided pointing out that anyone within three counties could hear him, reasoning that given the pounding in my head, restraint was the order of the day. Not at my best for sarcastic discourse, I made it to my feet and staggered into the house and up the cherry staircase with the railing my grandfather had carved. I should be specific. My grandfather didn’t actually do the carving himself, he had it carved. We LaVieres were far more suited to giving orders than taking them… of which I was living proof. I heard my mother ’s voice down the hallway, her plaintive, carefully-cultured drawl asked her maid to bring her a tall glass of iced tea with two slices of lemon. Mother always ordered two slices — one to squeeze into the drink and one to decorate the lip of the glass. As I said, my mother exudes grace. In honor of Dr. Jervis’ impending arrival, I chose charcoal dress slacks and a white Polo. A quick glance in the mirror exposed the circles beneath my ordinarily vivid blue eyes. At the moment, they looked more like someone had punched me. Perhaps they had? I couldn’t remember. I could only focus on one thing at a time while my head felt this muddled. At the moment, it appeared it would be two things — my father and Jervis. I dutifully sat in the mulberry leather wingback and sipped a tonic water, with one lemon, while my father met Dr. Jervis at the door and ushered him into the study. My father ’s boisterous voice and shoulder slapping put me in mind of a character in a Faulkner novel, and I wondered whether it was intentional. Everything my father did was done with great deliberation. That included his plans for my wastrel life, or so he regularly termed it. “Worth, how are you, my boy?” Jervis asked as he came through the cherry-framed door, his hand extended. Why did I feel like the screw up sitting outside the principal’s office? I nodded and shook the hand, noticing the ring with the insignia. That, too, was deliberate. It was his class ring from Stanford University where he graduated years ago, with honors, as my father so regularly pointed out. He was now a successful psychologist with offices on the east side of Louisville in a building he’d personally designed. He was a man of essence; another expression my father was fond of using. I listened as my father and Jervis swapped brags, each clearly only listening for a break in the other ’s conversation until he could interject his own escapades. I watched the performance, for that’s truly what it was. It always was a carefully choreographed performance that allowed two men past their prime to feel as though they owned the world and were the only two who knew anything worth a damn. I felt myself beginning to doze again. The lack of sleep, hangover, and tiresome performance lulling me away. “What do you say, son?” Jervis asked, looking at me. “Sir?” “I said, how about you comin’ on over to the office on Monday and givin’ us a look-see. Thought you might like to join me as a partner,” Jervis repeated. Behind him, my father ’s head nodded his approval. Yet another set of lines from the performance. I’d recently graduated with my own Ph.D. from Harvard. I could hardly believe the certificate Mother had so tastefully framed. I was a fully-fledged psychologist with a string of letters behind my name beginning with III and ending with various Ds. They weren’t so much an indication of how far I’d gone in school, as how far I’d stayed away from my father. As long as I pursued degrees, he

stayed off my back and kept my wallet full. After everything was said and done, I had enough Ds to treat any fuckin’ head case who walked through my door. I smiled and nodded, the combination of which multiplied the pounding still hammering my alcohol-soaked brain. So it was agreed that I would stop in on Monday, which was enough to break up the pow-wow and let us pass through to dinner. This was strictly where Mother reigned and she was waiting, her long, pink nails impatiently tapping the side of her martini. I must have smiled at the appropriate times because there was a haze of smiles around me and eventually, Jervis left. I can just remember waving a casual goodbye with one hand as I ascended the cherry stairs and died in my room. My own room.

CHAPTER TWO Auggie People had always said I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth and a riding crop in my hand. Named Elizabeth Augusta Langford for a great-aunt somewhere back in family history, I was rumored to be a distant relative of the Earl of Langford, although the family had long ago moved their title to these bluegrass knolls where our love of Thoroughbreds could be more fully indulged. I preferred to be called Auggie. It bypassed all the normal nicknames for Elizabeth while at the same time irritating my socially conscious mother all to pieces. She said I’m ‘willful.’ I maintained I’m simply Auggie. My favorite thing in the world was Carlos, the Thoroughbred I rode for steeplechase. He flew over fences and felt like a part of me and wouldn’t let me come unseated. Perhaps one of his most precious assets was that he’d never be reproduced. His racing career was short and he was gelded immediately thereafter. It’s too bad they couldn’t do the same to some men I’d met. That’s especially true of Eric, the son of my father ’s law partner. Eric and I had been expected to marry ever since we took our first riding lessons. Although he came from a decent family, Eric was clumsy, consistently odd in his behavior, and seemed out of place. He was handsome and had gotten the idea that’s all he had to be. He relied on his looks when other men relied on their integrity and character. Even when I graduated from the University of Kentucky with a masters in business, Eric was expected to be my intended — until I caught him. It was an early summer morning. The fireflies had gone to sleep and left the grasshoppers to leap among the grasses in the foggy mist. He must have forgotten we’d planned an early ride. I’d driven to his family stables and went in search of him when no one was about. I found him eventually, cradled asleep in the arms of Derek, the well-muscled farm hand who mucked stables and kept the fences in repair. They were lying in the straw of one of the empty stalls, unaware that I’d seen them. I crept out and left soundlessly, but strangely there were no tears on my cheeks. I can only remember feeling relief. I refused Eric’s proposal a month later. His face was red and he seemed uncharacteristically uncomfortable in front of my parents. Of course, I knew why. I took pity on him and decided not to out him. Instead, I refused his offer by saying I wanted a career over motherhood. I can remember Mother ’s face. The shock and horror of my words threw her into total confusion. She’d been planning my wedding and all the associated parties since I was fifteen. I knew she’d already begun selecting a china pattern and linens, registering me with all the normal places. It was a huge deal for her, and my dad looked at me with desperation, knowing he would catch the brunt of my mother ’s unhappiness. I left the room and rode Carlos until long after dark. We chose paths that were circular, giving us the freedom to romp at will without being concerned with what lay around the next corner. I longed for a time when there were no fences, no land ownership and the country was divided only by rivers, streams, and tree lines. By the time I went back to the house, Eric was gone and thankfully, hadn’t shown up again. It’s just

as well. He was worthless. I wanted more from my life. I’d always known what I wanted and I would get it. Mother was beside herself and insisted I seek therapy. I let her believe it was my problem. In fact, it was rather intriguing to consider confiding in a perfect stranger. There was no one else I could talk to. Eric would be ruined. So, I agreed and Mother began to seek out the best. He would need to be one of us because no one else could understand, of course. Mother believed in the concept that once children were born, her job was complete. Their raising and correction was the duty of professionals, preferably with names that those in her set recommended. That served double duty. She was freed of responsibility and yet awarded acclaim for her concern. She found the therapist. His name was Jervis and my appointment was quickly scheduled. He owned a clinic in town and everyone in our set had probably seen him at one time or another. It occurred to me that he was more like a confessor for the old equine money; a buffoon who awarded tolerance in exchange for invitations to the right social functions. In the meantime, I enjoyed the freedom of belonging to no one, except myself. Perhaps I would tell this Dr. Jervis about a few other things while I was there. After all, Mother was paying perfectly good money. Maybe I’d tell him a few things that weren’t even true, since I knew he would be reporting back to Mother. That’s why she insisted she find the doctor. Poor Mother… lucky for her, she made up in beauty for what God cheated her in common sense.

CHAPTER THREE Worth Jervis was obviously very proud of his building. It seemed to take precedence over even his healthy practice. Some men were like that. When they couldn’t get it to rise, they built one. Poor slob. He was missing the good stuff. At least he had good taste in his hired help. Some prime ass on four-inch stiletto hooves. This was going to be like shooting fish in a barrel. Jervis showed me his office, a testament to himself. Asshole. Did he really think anyone gave a shit? People cared about nothing but themselves, and as soon as they handed you a check, they owned you. All he’d done was frame his stupidity. “This,” Jervis pushed open a heavy door that swung easily on specially-fitted hinges, “is the waiting room for your patients.” I walked around Jervis and surveyed the small room. “Could use a bit of updating,” I commented and saw him flinch. “Well, we had designers in, but I admit, it was maybe five years ago. You’re free to personalize as you wish, of course.” Jervis’ voice proved he felt stung. I knew he wanted the entire building to reflect his sense of taste, but I’d never been one to take another man’s preferences as my own. I moved to the next door that, logically, led to my inner office and consultation room. It was a larger version of the waiting room, and I had to restrain myself from wiping my hand off on my thigh. “Thank you, Dr. Jervis, this will do quite nicely. I’ll just update a few things and will have it done this week. I’ll begin seeing patients next week.” “Wonderful, my boy, wonderful. I’ll begin referring all the new patients to your capable hands.” Jervis sounded relieved and excited at the same time. He was, in essence, increasing his patient load at my expense. “Dr. Jervis,” I said as I closed the door behind me. “Yes, my boy?” Jervis’ hand was petting his beard, his pathetic attempt at a Freudian impression. “Perhaps you could refrain from calling me ‘boy?’ My name is Dr. LaViere, and as a matter of fact, I believe in terms of education, I outrank you but we won’t quibble.” Jervis stopped, his back to me and I knew he was bristling. I saw him force his shoulders to relax and knew he’d opted for diplomacy and increased revenue over pride. He really was pathetic. He nodded and left, moving out into the lobby and across to his own offices. The door shut firmly, but not angrily behind him. He recognized that his days as top dog were numbered. Soon, he would be nothing more than a name in front of the building, and maybe not even that. *** I phoned Jeremy. “You son-of-a-bitch, how are you?” I poked the moment he answered. “Jackass,” he muttered in a mocking voice. Jeremy didn’t waste time on the formalities any more than I did. Maybe that’s why we got along so well.

“This is a professional call, I’ll have you know.” I used my business voice. “Indeed? What’s up?” He was curious. Of all of us, I was the black sheep and had always worn the designation with pride. “Opening a practice. Partnering with Jervis. You know his building?” Jeremy scoffed. “The outside isn’t too bad but the interior looks like a crypt.” “Exactly. Stop by this afternoon and take some measurements, will you? Want it done by Friday. I’ll leave the details to you. Is that a problem?” “Your only problem will be sobering up by Monday,” he mocked me. “Send Jervis the bill,” I added, knowing this would just deflate Jervis that much more. He would, of course, go to Father in complaint. And, of course, my father would write out a check and console the condescending son-of-a-bitch. Father might think he’d finally rid himself of a problem, but he was wrong… so, so wrong. *** I wheeled my Porsche into the parking lot at eight o’clock sharp Monday morning. Jervis wouldn’t be in for another hour and I knew it would throw him for me to arrive first. I knew he’d want to cook up some sort of self-obliging ceremony… transferring the keys to the kingdom, in a manner of speaking. Jeremy had come through. It was like walking into a different century. As a matter of fact, it was exactly like walking into the next century. Gone were the dark fabrics and cherry paneling. I entered a world of glass, silver, crystal, pale grays and gray-blues. This was far more my style, not the somnolent heaviness of traditional old Kentucky. I stored my case in the lower drawer of the immense glass desk and opened my laptop. Jervis’ staff had been kind enough to set me up with passwords, templates for patient records and a list of my victims for the day. Jeremy had thoughtfully installed a small kitchenette in a secreted closet with mirrored doors. I slid it open and snapped on the Keurig. There was a tap at the door and I turned to behold my new secretary, Patsy. I ran into her at the Paddock Club Wednesday night. Her skirt was minuscule, and she had legs like a two-year-old at Keeneland. I hired her on the spot. “Patsy,” I acknowledged her and noted that she had dressed suitably. One might think she was a plant by my father were it not for the fact that he would have chosen some thick-ankled old maid who wore buttoned up blouses and knee-length suits. “I take it you noticed your desk just outside the waiting room?” “Yes, Worth, that is, Dr. LaViere.” She giggled just enough to sound like a flirt and spun on her spiky heels to survey her new throne. “Oh, Patsy,” I called after her. She turned, her legs parting slightly as she stood. I loved that. “Lunch.” “Of course,” she answered. “Galt House or the Hilton?” “You choose,” I offered, making sure the corner of my mouth lifted just right. It did. She giggled again and disappeared.

CHAPTER FOUR Worth The yellow light on my desk blinked, signaling there was a patient waiting for me. I opened the door to the waiting room and discovered a woman seated there. When I motioned her in, a waft of her perfume enveloped me as she passed. I was instantly hard. “Mrs. Marcum?” I inquired and she nodded, smiling slyly. I resisted the urge to thrust out my hips as she looked me up and down, more down than up. “Won’t you have a seat? Wherever makes you comfortable.” I indicated the seating arrangement Jeremy had cunningly assembled. The furnishings were ultra-modern, and depending on the preference of the patients, they could sit upright or recline completely. Even if they chose to sit, the seating was low and a less inhibited woman could choose to let her knees open a bit to sit more comfortably. He had thought of everything and knew me so well. Amazing for a man who didn’t care for women, I mused. “You’re the new one.” Her voice was husky and low, the kind you dreamed of hearing over the telephone. “Dr. LaViere,” I introduced myself and sat down with my tablet to take notes. “Do you have another name?” she prompted, her green eyes reflecting the glow from the lamp. “Not yet,” I countered and smiled. “We’ll see how much progress you make.” My response was filled with innuendo and I knew she was already formulating her plan. “How long do I get?” she purred and ran a hand through her hair. “Our visit is forty minutes long, Mrs. Marcum.” “Call me Stephanie.” “Very well, Stephanie. I see by the forms you completed that you’re here to talk about some issues you’re having in your marriage?” “Yes.” She bit her lower lip, looking down at her pink tipped fingers. I didn’t have to be a mind reader to know she was trying to decide how much to tell me without making herself look undesirable. She wanted to roast her husband but come out looking untouched. I shifted in my seat, pulling one leg back and extending the other, which caused my knees to open so she could clearly see I was aroused. Her eyes flared as they met mine again and a pink tongue moistened her lips. I chuckled internally. Yeah, I had it. “So, how long have you been married?” I began the conversation and sat back to gather facts. Her face fell somewhat as she remembered her purpose in coming. “Howard and I were married seven years ago,” she began. “We met at Churchill in the Stevens’ box seats. He’s considerably older than I am, you should know.” “How much older?” “Ten years,” she answered and then her mouth twisted. “Okay, five, but as you might have noticed, I age well,” she added, hope bright in her eyes. I flipped to her personal information and saw she was almost forty. She was right. She had aged

well, but then, most likely, there were a few wealthier plastic surgeons who could account for that. I looked at her bosom just long enough to make a guess and she smiled coyly, “Yes, I see you do.” She was satisfied that her game was working and this made her happy. I hoped Howard had deep pockets because this smoky number would be showing up for the long haul. I moved my knee open incrementally and she blushed with pleasure. I could even see the slightest glaze of perspiration above her upper lip as she licked them again and swallowed. The movement was not lost on me. “Why don’t you tell me how I can help you?” I invited, the double entendre making her draw in her breath. She chuckled in her husky voice. The sound was well practiced, I could tell. It was clear as to why Howard might be having some problems with her. “Howard has some issues…” she began. “He isn’t able to, well, shall we say… please me in bed any longer?” She emphasized her need more for my benefit than for her own. “Are you saying your husband is impotent?” I asked, keeping my tone professional. “Flat as a punctured inner tube,” she popped back coarsely and for a moment, I felt sorry for the son-of-a-bitch. “Mrs. Marcum, you do realize there are many new medications available for these issues and that your husband should seek the guidance of his personal physician or a qualified urologist, don’t you?” She seemed disappointed that I wasn’t snapping at her bait. She tried another course. “Let’s just say you can’t fill up on a cocktail frank when you have an appetite for a bratwurst,” she offered. This turned my stomach a bit. I readily saw why Howard was having issues. I hated these kinds of bitches. They used emasculation to get what they wanted. “Do you love your husband?” I asked her pointedly. She took a few moments to consider this. “I’m used to him. He’s broken in, if you understand what I mean.” “So you’re saying you’d like to remain married to him?” I framed it simply. “Yes.” “Have you considered taking a lover?” At this, her eyes opened slightly, a sign of arousal. She looked pointedly at me and frowned to see my erection had disappeared. I knew she was wondering where she’d lost me. “Why… why…” she stuttered to answer. “Have you?” I detested weakness. I didn’t give a shit whether she was screwing around. I just didn’t want her wasting my time by not being up front about it. “Well…” she began, her fingers twisting together. “You have, then?” I didn’t even wait for her confirmation but made notes on my tablet. This seemed to concern her, even alarm her. “What are you writing?” she demanded, sitting upright. “Just making notes, Mrs. Marcum. It’s quite normal,” I answered matter-of-factly. I knew she was discomfited. She wasn’t sure whether to defend herself or release her claws into me. I didn’t give her a chance to decide. “Mrs. Marcum, we’re going to end the session for today. I believe we should schedule a session for me to see Mr. Marcum next time, alone. Then, we’ll follow that with one for you both. This is really a couple’s counseling situation as there is nothing to be accomplished without Mr. Marcum’s input and cooperation. Good day,” I finished and stood, signaling an end to the

conversation. Her carefully molded face turned sour, and I glimpsed the hell old man Marcum must see every morning over his breakfast table. It was no wonder he had performance issues. I found myself looking forward to lunch as I opened the door for Stephanie Marcum to make her exit. I noticed as she passed that her perfume no longer had any effect on me. In fact, quite the opposite. Interesting.

CHAPTER FIVE Worth I was beginning to feel more like a babysitter than a psychologist. Throughout my education and while interning, patients had generally fallen into a few categories: they were poor, their life was shitty or they were trying to overcome an addiction to their escapism drug of choice. These patients, however, were completely normal, albeit eccentric, and they manufactured paltry neurosis based on boredom and the chic adornment of “being in therapy.” These were the spoiled wealthy — the least contributive to the socialization of the country. They created pretend lives with self-imposed drama as a means to avoid slitting their liposuctioned necks. It sickened me. It was the world I was born into. These were my people. My next patient arrived and the blinking yellow light on my desk was beginning to give me a Pavlovian response of nausea. I opened the door and found a young woman of moderate height and build, mahogany-colored hair that hung like a shiny curtain to her waist and a peaches and cream complexion with a few subtle freckles on the tip of her nose. She stood with the grace of an athlete and said abruptly, “You’re not Jervis.” “I’m not?” I challenged her with a mocking smile. “Mother would have never chosen someone like you. He’s old and I suspect has a beard. A fuddyduddy who would be bowled over by her beauty and ready to tell her anything she wanted to hear.” “I suppose I should take that as flattery?” I asked. “Take it however you like, but you’re not Jervis,” she muttered as she pushed past me into my consultation room. “So, where is the tactical seat?” She stood with her jean-clad legs spread in a defiant stance, and I was so overwhelmed with her self-assured, sardonic view of the world, I felt my heart actually beginning to race. She was like a two-year-old Thoroughbred. Slender and longlegged, her mane of hair emanating youthful good health. She was also restless, untrusting, and ready to bolt at any moment. “Take whichever tactical seat you prefer,” I offered, extending my arm to sweep the room. She took mine. This made me smile, and I chose to outplay her and took the seat behind my desk, leaving the expanse of glass between us. This forced her to rotate in her chosen chair in order to see me, but she stared straight ahead, leaving me her profile to contemplate. I picked up my tablet. “So, Miss Elizabeth Langford…” I began. “No.” “No?” “Auggie.” “Auggie,” I repeated, feeling as though we were playing some game. “My name is Auggie, after my Aunt Augusta. Not Elizabeth, or Lizzie, or Betsy or Liz or any other perverted deviation you think you can use to get in my pants.” My eyebrows rose at this. This game sounded familiar; very, very personally familiar. “Very well,

Miss Elizabeth, Lizzie, Betsy, Liz, Augusta…” I mocked her. “Stop it! Auggie or don’t call me by name.” She turned to look at me briefly and I could see coltish fire in her green eyes. Jesus, but she turns me on! “Auggie, it is. What brings you here today?” “Mother didn’t leave any instructions?” she asked pertly. “Mother must be slipping. She never forgets details when it comes to managing my life. She may as well pin a note to my blouse like when I was in kindergarten.” So, it was to be a smothering mother thing, but somehow I didn’t think so. I felt like she was playing with me. “Why do you think you’re here?” I tried. She lifted a shoulder. “Not really here for any reason. Caught my intended fiancé in a compromising position with someone else and refused his resulting proposal. Mother doesn’t know the truth but seems to think this means I’m disturbed.” She made air quotations around the word as she uttered it. “Okay, well, is it possible he was having one last fling before committing to you?” I tried to mitigate the damage. “If you call one last fling a muck jockey with a cock bigger than his,” she spat back and crossed one leg over the other. I almost choked on the saliva she was creating in my mouth. “I see,” I finally managed. “Hmmm… and you don’t think he swings both ways, I take it?” She looked at me straight on and asked in a sing-song voice typical for an eight-year-old girl who got kicked out of the cool kid’s club. “Would you settle for being half of both ways?” I could see her point. God, but I wanted her. “It isn’t important what I think,” I gave the standard response. “Oh, really? Well, if I don’t care and you don’t think, what the hell am I doing in this chair spending Mother ’s carefully planted money?” She was defiance in raging glory. “Our conversation is privileged,” I pointed out. “Really? She didn’t pick Jervis by accident, I can tell you that.” “I’m not Jervis,” I answered succinctly. She scowled at me. “No, you’re not. So just who the hell are you, anyway?” I couldn’t resist. “You must have wandered in here by accident. I’m a gynecologist, Dr. LaViere.” Three precious seconds passed as my words sank in and she considered if what I said could possibly be true. Then, the glow of recognition, the dawning as she realized I was putting her on. “Screw you!” she spat, leapt to her feet and stalked out, slamming doors as she left. It seemed the day wasn’t a total waste, after all. I was craving something and looked toward the closet bar, but bourbon wasn’t it. I was craving the colt who had just bolted.

CHAPTER SIX Auggie “W ell, Mother, I met your Dr. Jervis,” I announced as she stirred her mint julep on the veranda. “Only it wasn’t your Dr. Jervis,” I added before skipping inside to put on my riding clothes. This seemed like the perfect afternoon for a date with Carlos. I knew she couldn’t resist. “What do you mean, not my Dr. Jervis?” She was hot on my heels. “Why does that upset you so badly, Mother? Could it be you had one of your magic spells already in place?” I asked, feeling suddenly superior. Perhaps Mother taught me a thing or two over the years. “Elizabeth Augusta, you stand still this instant and tell me what you’ve done now!” “Are you speaking to me?” I asked in my warning tone. Mother stomped one foot in vexation. “Young lady, you are to stop this nonsense right now. I went to great pains to find you the right therapist and now you’re telling me you didn’t see him at all? Who did you talk to? These are very private concerns, young lady. We can’t have just anyone privy to our family matters.” Mother was losing ground with every word she spoke. She’d lost my interest with her “young lady” opening. I slammed my bedroom door and changed my clothes, leaving the discarded items on the floor where they belonged. I waited until her muttering decreased as she descended the staircase before opening my door and venturing out. I heard the patio door shut firmly — Mother never slammed anything; it wasn’t ladylike — and then skipped out the front door toward the stables. Carlos heard me coming and was restless in his paddock, waiting to be released. Together we were the wind. I didn’t return until the last rays of sunlight and as I was brushing Carlos down, Dad appeared. “Auggie, we have to talk,” he began. It was obvious he’d rather be doing anything else, but had been sent by Mother to get this settled. “I was expecting you eventually,” I acknowledged him. He really was a dear, old sweetheart, even if he had no spine. Dad was forever in the role of peacemaker. “Your mother tells me…” Why do all his sentences begin that way? “that you went to see Dr. Jervis today but for some reason, she has the idea you saw someone else. Is that true?” His wording was carefully selected. Carlos, ever my defender, kicked over a water bucket at that moment and Dad actually started a bit at the noise. I wanted to put him at ease but didn’t particularly want to reward Mother ’s machinations. I compromised. “Mother scheduled me to see Dr. Jervis but apparently, his receptionist thought it a better idea that I see his new partner,” I explained. “I see.” Dad looked relieved that there might just be a simple explanation here after all. His shoulders sagged and I wondered briefly how long it had been since Dad had walked erectly with pride.

“Father, when will Mother realize that I’m a grown woman and no longer need her to supervise my life? I’m a college graduate, remember? I must know something about my life to get that far, don’t you think?” “Yes, yes, of course, Auggie, but your mother is old school. She is very conscious of the family’s social position. I don’t need to tell you that.” “Like, what am I doing? Selling my body on the corner? Strung out on drugs or have my own stool at the bar? Really, Dad, let’s be real about this.” Dad’s feet were shuffling, a definite sign that this conversation was making him terribly uncomfortable. I knew he was trying to stay long enough to gather some positive intel that would convince Mother the issue had been dealt with and she could go back to non-stop manipulations of all our lives. “Try to look at it this way.” I tried to expose some silver lining to him. “We both know that Mother likes to have a hand in things, and we both acknowledge that she probably had things set up with Dr. Jervis to report back to her with the details. So, my seeing someone other than Jervis was probably a Godsend and will simplify your life and mine considerably. What do you think?” Dad smiled shyly and it always melted my heart the fastest. “I think I have a grown-up girl who is pretty darn smart.” I nodded. “Thought you’d see it my way.” I smiled back. “Now go ahead and tell Mother you gave me what-for, and I pinky swore not to spill any family secrets and embarrass her, okay?” He nodded and left, and I went back to brushing down Carlos. “Carlos, my love, be glad that you only were gelded the one time.”

CHAPTER SEVEN Worth A ll in all, I think my first day went remarkably well. Jervis was headed in my direction, probably to discuss how everything went. Good thing I had Patsy send that intercept call directly to his personal cell. I knew that would stop him on the spot. Jervis couldn’t handle more than one issue at a time. I pulled the Porsche out onto Shelbyville Road and headed downtown. As one of the major shopping areas in town, it was constant start and stop traffic. I understood why the office was convenient here, but I would by far rather stay in the country. One of my favorite hangouts was a little bar called Joe’s, tucked beneath the Third Street Bridge. It pre-dated the first Derby and if you looked around, you might think you’d stepped back to that time. The patrons were strictly old money. The attire de rigueur was baggy wool, combatting plaids, and a cap that had been properly mashed beneath a hoof on some muddy track. Presidents had been determined here and influence reeked from the age-scented bodies. It was a world where there was no longer any need to impress one another and certainly anyone who wasn’t there didn’t enter their minds. Almost without exception, the ancestors of these craggy faces with their bushy eyebrows and yellowed teeth had come ashore still respecting their King. They’d been sent on a mission to lay claim to the virginal America before the peasants could learn to build a split-railed fence. This was the battlefield of Kentucky Colonels, a world that ate burgoo and drank juleps made with Bardstown bourbon. It was a world where a small man was not a runt, but a possible jockey. Here, a man’s wealth was measured by the acres of bluegrass he’d fenced and the institution that was the Stockyards Bank. Their Derby boxes had been handed down through the generations and their names were like bloodlines carefully selecting fillies as brood mares for their offspring. Need I add that it was an unspoken rule that women weren’t invited? I go there from time to time, just to be alone and free of the need to acquire a bed partner for the night. There was a certain stress release that came with entering that unmarked door. A place that smelled of the manure trod in beneath boots that had so recently surveyed the paddocks. I remember the day when the IRS deemed horse breeding to be a hobby and no longer a tax deduction. It certainly approximated the stock market crash in the thirties and served to winnow out the new money — those who were in horses as dollar investments. Those who remained had coffers and lineage. These were the men I admired, if not simply for their lack of innovation as much as for their endurance. These were my people. These were the untouchables. It was dark, cool and devoid of cologne, factors which made it perfect. I could leave my charm, as well as my insolence, at the door. It also meant that I could leave in whatever condition I drank myself into and nothing would be said. My father never came in here. He said he preferred to do his drinking in his study with guests. I wasn’t sure, but I suspected there was something a little gray in his past he didn’t like to be reminded of. This was the kind of place where the walls chastised your conscience. Words or looks weren’t necessary. So far I had managed to stay undetected, but I was fairly sure all that was about to change. I just never expected how it would come about.

*** I knocked on Jeremy’s door about three a.m. He answered after long minutes and was in a flowered robe. “Honestly, Worth? It’s three in the morning. Some of us have to work for a living, you know.” I nodded. “I do…” I slurred, “I mosth def-initely do.” My tongue felt very thick. “So what do you want?” he asked, visually perturbed. “Your couch. Can’t go home and you were close.” Jeremy leaned forward and sniffed. “Jesus! You’re ready to puke. I don’t want you on my new sofa.” “Let me in your bed, then.” He threw up a hand, then planted it on his hip. “Now you know we’ve been all over that. My bed is reserved for my playmates and it just happens that it’s occupied at the moment. Now, go on with you. Find a room somewhere. There aren’t any at this inn.” With that, Jeremy shut the door and I made a mental note to never hire him to decorate my office again, but I have a short memory. It was a hot and humid night. Nightlife was still in full swing. Somehow my car made it to the office and I let myself in, marveling at the number of lights that were on. I guess the ghosts needed to see. I did not, however, realize that ghosts giggled. I distinctly heard the sound of a woman’s laughter and I saw a light beneath Jervis’ door. It drew me like a beacon. I lost all discretion when I’d been drinking. I opened the door without knocking and found the kind, eminent Dr. Jervis au natural with a woman of approximately his own age. She was well-preserved, even at her age, and I stood still a moment to enjoy the view of her uplifted legs. There was a loud squeal, then Jervis sat upright, his cock dangling in a sort of bent, pitiful way. As I stared, it partially deflated and was well on its way to becoming road kill. The lady in question pushed herself back and struggled to sit up, pulling a blouse over herself and tucking her head. Her breasts were bountiful, if a bit wrinkled from too many trips to the tanning bed. Her hair was an unnatural shade of red and it looked like she was due for a touch up at the salon. In my mind, I named her Jervis’ Jezebel. She went to great lengths to not look at me. “How dare you!” Jervis spat. I lingered just a moment longer, grinned and shut the door behind myself as I headed to my office. Letting myself in the door, I locked it securely and pulled a freshly laundered quilt from the closet. We kept a few on hand for the more traumatic confessions — it seemed to help. I wondered if I should offer Jervis’ Jezebel one right about now. I chose the longer of the two sofas and had just curled up when I heard the front door close. Smiling, I dropped off to sleep.

CHAPTER EIGHT Auggie Mother seemed satisfied that any crisis at the therapist’s office would be averted, although I think it was a newer affair of excitement that captured her immediate attention. I won’t say I wasn’t glad. She wasn’t being forthcoming, but I could tell she had things on her mind and this allowed me to come and go without explanation which was something I detested. I dressed casually and headed to town for some diversion. There was a new restaurant on my side of town and a long, leisurely lunch seemed like a good idea. I’d just settled into a booth when a voice behind me spoke up. “Miss Auggie,” it acknowledged in a sultry tone. I swung around and found the obstetrician a/k/a mocking therapist from Jervis’ office. He was sitting with his back to me or I would have seen him and chosen another booth. “Hello,” I said in a non-committal voice and turned around. I refused to look his way, even as I got up from the booth to make a salad at the buffet. When I sat back down, however, I couldn’t help but overhear him talking on his phone. “Yes, I agree. I know he’s coming home this weekend, but I thought we’d talked about this. We said if he came home and still hadn’t lost any weight, you were going to leave him and come to live with me. Remember? He’s a slob, Margaret, c’mon. He should be wearing a D cup. Anyway, you said he couldn’t get it up at all and you deserve to have a real man. Hell, if it makes you feel better, we can call it therapy and send him a bill. How about it? Why don’t you just come over tonight and pack a big bag. Plan to stay a while.” He continued to repeat his invitation a couple of more times and then said his goodbyes. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. This doctor spoke to his patients that way? Surely to God, he was breaking every oath he ever took and was committing insurance fraud to boot! I had to report this to someone. Where should I begin? I kept my eyes down as he stood, left a tip and prepared to leave. As he passed my table, he tapped two fingers twice on the surface while he pocketed his money clip with the other hand. The symbolism was just too much! I couldn’t even finish lunch, I was so angry. I jumped into my car and tore off down the road toward home. A patrol car was sitting on a side street and ripped out after me. I hadn’t gotten two blocks before his lights came on. Pulling over, I prepared for the interrogation by pulling out my license, proof of insurance and registration. The officer strolled toward my baby blue Mercedes, tipping his hat back as he came closer. I rolled down the window and waited. As it happened, I knew him. Todd Green and I had gone to high school together. We went through the formalities and when he handed back my license, he asked, “What’s your phone number, Auggie?” “Are you supposed to ask that?” I questioned him suspiciously. “Well, technically no, but then technically, I should be writing you out a big fat ticket and you’d have to come to court to straighten it out,” he speculated, lifting his aviators and placing one hand on

the roof of the car. “Jesus, is the world full of opportunistic assholes?” I blurted out. “What’s that?” Todd’s face wasn’t pleased. I remembered the better part of valor and offered up a peace treaty. “I’m sorry, Todd. It’s just been a lousy day and something you said reminded me of another incident earlier. Had nothing to do with you. Sure, here’s my phone number. Call me and we’ll get together sometime.” I offered him my number written on the torn off flap of an envelope. He seemed appeased and was generous enough to smile. Patting the bottom of my open window, he said, “Keep the speed down, Auggie,” and backed off, returning to his squad car. This whole thing just lit me up even more and if Dr. Worthington LaViere had been in the passenger seat, I would have stabbed him in his crotch with my pen! I wasn’t much calmer by the time I reached home, but I had come to a decision. If I screwed with LaViere, he’d be taken off my case and I’d be stuck with the undoubtedly horrid Dr. Jervis. I realized if I showed up for my next scheduled appointment, I could tell him a thing or two, maybe even feed him some bullshit, and he’d learn his lesson. Yes, indeed, this was definitely better handled personally. My green eyes were full of vengeance, as they were intended to be.

CHAPTER NINE Auggie I took a long time getting dressed for my appointment with LaViere. I tucked up my hair into a French twist and added a couple of diamond-studded hairpins for effect. I applied subtle make-up and pulled on a velvet, cream-color mini skirt with a deeply-cut, hunter green top that accented my eyes. Matching studs went into my ears and I was ready to go. “Why are you all dressed up?” Mother asked as she passed me in the hallway. “Thought I’d make a better impression this time,” I said truthfully. “Very good, Auggie,” she approved in a happy voice. It was so easy to manipulate her. I was early for the appointment and sat in the waiting room leafing through Kentucky Thoroughbred, one of my favorite magazines, although I’d already read this issue. I had a subscription. When he finally opened the door and waved me in, I pasted on a phony sweet smile and went to sit in the same chair as before, except this time I turned it around to face him. “Miss Auggie, how are we today?” he began, smiling. I bit my lip to avoid a sarcastic comeback. This hand would have to be carefully played. “I’ve given a lot of thought to our first meeting, you know,” I began. “Is that so?” “Oh, yes… I can see that I was being entirely unfair to Eric by calling off our impending engagement. It’s not his fault that he’s gay, after all.” I waited for his reaction. He didn’t disappoint. “I see. So you’ve decided you’d rather be half of something that swings both ways than to wait for the right man?” He was trying to be a doctor, but I heard something else in his voice. “Yes. You see, I decided that my first love is actually Carlos. That’s my horse.” I paused and he nodded. “If Eric were totally involved with my life, well, he’d frown upon the amount of time I go riding. So, in retrospect, if he has, let’s say, other interests, that leaves me more time to be with Carlos.” He was sitting opposite me, his hands pressed together in a tent-like position and the look on his face was thoughtful. “I see. What if Eric were to approach you and ask whether you’d be willing to, well, let’s say, ménage a trois? The three of you in the wedding bed? What would you say to that? Could you be with, what was his name… Derek… at the same time? That’s when I knew he was mocking me. “Would that be so bad?” I asked. “Maybe Derek would make the better lover? Anyway, who are you to question my personal ethics when you’re luring patients away from their husbands into your bed? How dare you! I have a good mind to report you to whatever association you belong to.” I couldn’t stop my hand from waving at his damn licenses on the wall. “And judging by all the letters after your name, I’d say there’s a bunch of them!” I was fuming.

He cocked his head a bit and then, as if remembering, he said, “Ah, I see. So you have such high ideals, but you’re not above listening to other peoples’ conversations, is that it?” “How could I not hear? You were sitting just six inches behind me! Have you no shame?” I was getting ready to ice pick him. “I do have shame… and although I’d like very much to get Margaret into my bed, she will never know it because I wasn’t speaking to a live phone.” He settled back for the words to sink in. I felt my face reddening and this wasn’t something I was accustomed to. “So, would you like to discuss Margaret or Derek or shall we choose an entirely different topic… uhmmm… perhaps the reason you’re in my office?” His voice was so mocking I wanted to pour drain cleaner down this throat. “I knew it all along,” I said in a level tone. “I just wanted you to know that your little ploy didn’t work.” “I see. So you’re above manipulation?” “Absolutely.” “And you’re above using your feminine wiles to get what you want?” “Of course!” I answered automatically. I didn’t see the trap until it was sprung. “So, the fact that last time you were here in muddy jeans and a ponytail, but today you’re in velvet and diamonds would be just an innocent coincidence?” He noticed! He remembered! I didn’t know what to say, but I don’t think my face had faded one bit. “Okay, Auggie, out with it. Why are you here, anyway? You’re wasting my time and your money, or your father ’s, however you look at it.” “I’m… I’m…” I was faltering for my next line. I’d only memorized the script to this point. “I’ll have my secretary send the final bill. I really don’t think there’s any reason you need therapy. You strike me as just about the sanest person I’ve met in a long time and probably could be my therapist,” he exclaimed and stood up. “Will there be anything else?” he asked in that mocking tone. “No. I’m leaving. Thank you,” I mustered. “See you around.” I left quietly the same way I’d come in. I felt confused and a bit deflated that I’d not been able to embarrass him. Was this what it felt like to be Mother? To try and control people? I decided it felt unfamiliar and I was going to mind my own business from now on. *** Mother was waiting for me when I returned. “How did it go?” she asked bluntly. “Fine, fine. I’m all done.” “All done?” She seemed provoked rather than relieved. “He says I’m the sanest person he’s met in quite a while, canceled my remaining appointments, and that’s that. Okay?” “Well… well,” she stuttered, then slammed her mouth closed. Tried again. “I thought it would take longer.” “Mother, why are you so hyped up on having me in therapy? Is it because you have a pipeline of information coming about me from Jervis? Well, he isn’t even my therapist. His partner is. That’s it. We’re done.”

“Auggie, you’re acting worse than when you broke up with Eric. Who is this therapist to you?” She was curious and getting too close for comfort. “Mother, he’s just another one of your paid informers. Leave me alone and get out of my life, please?” I tried to say it kindly, but she was really getting on my nerves. It was very difficult to be kind to Mother. *** I trotted up to my room and changed my clothes. Carlos and I spent a few hours together, during which time I decided to find a job. I needed some activity that would get me out from beneath Mother ’s scrutiny, and perhaps doing what I was educated to do would be the best idea. I showered and was scouring the job listings on my laptop when my cell rang. “Hello.” I hadn’t recognized the number but it was local so I answered it. “Hello, Auggie,” the vaguely familiar voice said. “Who’s this?” I was taken off guard. “Worth LaViere,” he answered. “I thought you might like to have a drink with me tomorrow night?” Silence stretched to an uncomfortable level as I tried to process his words. “What? Are you serious?” I couldn’t think straight. “Of course I’m serious.” He was so cocksure of himself. “Wait a minute. Doesn’t that constitute some kind of violation of ethics? I mean, are you like asking me on a date?” I was completely puzzled. “Well, to be blunt, yes. I’m asking you on a date and no, it’s only a conflict if you’re my patient. Which, as of this afternoon, you are not. So, what do you say?” “You’re really serious, aren’t you?” I couldn’t wrap my mind around this. “How about the bar at the Hilton? Let’s say six o’clock tomorrow?” “Why?” It was the only thing I could think to ask. “Because I’m attracted to you.” It was a simple reply and I had to give him credit for being upfront with his intent. I’m not sure whether he talked like that to be a little rebellious, or whether he truly is just that honest. There was only one way to find out. “I’ll be there. You be there and be ready to answer some questions off the clock, doc.” “If you call me doc, I get to call you Elizabeth Augusta.” “See you tomorrow… Worth.” I hung up and felt my heart hammering like the first time I was asked on a date. I lost my appetite and opened my wardrobe to see what I would wear. In disgust, I realized I was completely outfitted for working on the farm but had little in the way of anything dressy for the Hilton. I resolved to get up early, have a mani-pedi and buy some new clothes. It wasn’t until just before I fell asleep that it occurred to me that Mother might be behind this. I tried to swat the thought away, as one would a troublesome mosquito, but it stayed with me. I dreamed all night of mosquitos in a bedroom with white gauzy drapes and a tall, naked man who made love to me and wouldn’t let me go. It was one of the best night’s sleep I’d had in a long time. The next morning, I rose early and dressed in clothing that was easy to slip off in the dressing

room. I pulled my car onto the roadway feeling very feminine and my instincts for capturing a male’s attention were in full bloom. I’m not entirely sure why I was interested in catching Worth LaViere’s interest. Was I starving for some sort of male attention after the Eric debacle? Was my femininity in question? Perhaps it was Mother. She emasculated Dad. She also had a way of doing the same thing, in a feminine sense, to me. I wish I had a sister or, at least, a brother with whom to commiserate. I was always left with the feeling that I wasn’t being entirely fair to her, yet every time I tried to put things behind us, she said or did something new. I could not understand how Dad put up with her. He certainly was a good man and could have found someone with a better disposition to give him a happier life. It doesn’t serve a purpose to think of one’s parents in this sense, I realized. There was something unwholesome about it. I found a stylish salon and remembered having been there once as a younger girl when a friend of the family had gotten married. The place looked exactly the same and the hairdressers just as friendly as my hair was trimmed and I indulged in a manicure and pedicure. While I was there, I looked at a few magazines, deciding on a style I could identify with. I wasn’t a model and didn’t care much about designer labels. Designer clothes seemed to be geared toward making the designer look successful more than their clients attractive. After all, the trends in style changed consistently while people’s physical attributes remained relatively the same. I spent a long time in dressing rooms in different department stores. I even asked the store to send their personal shopper up to me and with her help, found a color and a look with which I could identify. I still had some time to kill so I went to the bookstore and looked at equine magazines. Curious, I also leafed through some magazines on psychology. I couldn’t imagine that they had trends, as you found in clothing and hair—but the magazines existed so there had to be something new to read about. When the clock finally wound to the place where it was respectable to arrive, I left and made my way to the Hilton.

CHAPTER TEN Worth She walked in and it took me a moment to recognize her. The caterpillar had morphed. The tomboy was gone, and she was no longer playing dress up as she had been during her second visit. Now there was an enticing and sophisticated young lady searching the room for me. I could only attribute this dramatic change in her fascination for my invitation. I stood momentarily and waved to catch her attention. She actually smiled as she approached and I realized I hadn’t seen her smile yet. “You look beautiful,” I commented without guise. “Thank you. You look less gloating than the last time we met,” she observed with a twinkle in her eye. We ordered drinks and a few appetizers. I had taken two deep gulps of my drink and realized I was uncharacteristically nervous. She had yet to try her wine and just studied me. She knew. Having generally spoken to her across my desk with her facing sideways in rebellion, I now saw her eyes and was lost. They were a shade of green I’d only seen in island waters and set a bit close together with long, mahogany lashes. I had the urge to dive into them, picturing what she would look like lying beneath me. I was growing hard and yet a strange insecurity had come over me. What the hell is going on? “What are you thinking?” she asked. “Why?” “First of all, I’ve always wanted to ask a shrink that question and secondly, there is a strange look on your face. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re nervous.” “Nonsense.” “You’re thinking about nonsense?” “No, I mean it’s nonsense that I’m nervous. I never get nervous.” I was repeating myself. I was in trouble. She smiled at this. “So many women. You should have this down pat by now, is that it?” I was mentally gasping for air. I knew I needed to change the subject before I drowned. “You look great.” “You said that. Thank you, a second time. What’s up? Why are you so uncomfortable? Is it the doctor-patient thing?” “As long as you’re no longer my patient, there’s no jeopardy. You never were in need of my consultation, anyway. As we both know, you had been sent to the principal’s office.” She laughed at that. “I see you know my mother.” “It wasn’t hard to spot. Common among our set.” “Our set?” those aqua green eyes questioned me.

“Mothers who have nothing better to do than meddle in their children’s lives. Very common among people who are well set. Not just mothers, either.” “Ahhh…” she said as though discovering the combination to a safe. “So, you have one, too?” “I do, indeed. Worth, II.” “And is Worth, III, in the same frame of mind?” “God, I hope not. If I ever have children, well, at least, any I’m aware of…” he added the codicil, “they will be given free rein. None of this spying on their lives.” I was marveling at the strange dichotomy of her being so easy to speak to and yet making me nervous. Perhaps this was what it felt like to be outside the protective shell of cocky banter and rebelliousness. I wasn’t entirely sure I liked the feeling; it was somewhat like a freefall. Yet, having her across the table from me felt reassuring, real and authentic. Was her energy so pure that it was overriding my own? I looked at her vibrant skin, those striking eyes, the long waterfall of mahogany hair and I wanted that to belong to me. I needed it to be a part of who I was. My past was a littered mess of intentional failures, cutting corners and being as irritatingly obtuse as possible. I felt inside like Joe’s; something with an inner air of dark secrets. I needed her wholesomeness. “I don’t know if I agree,” she was saying and my attention was instantly upon her words. I actually wanted to hear her viewpoint. I needed to hear what normal, healthy people think about. I was surrounded daily by not only my own dark thoughts but those of sick minds and tainted lives. “I rather think of raising children like training a young horse. You persist in pointing out the favored behavior, but you have to give them their head a bit, too, or they rebel and get themselves into trouble.” Everything she said made sense. “You love horses, don’t you?” I said, not because I didn’t already know, but because I wanted to hear her voice continue. “Oh, yes, especially Carlos. I ride Steeplechase with him. He’s also my best friend,” a sad smile appeared on her lips, “particularly when Mother begins her nosy nonsense.” Her eyes turned dark at the mention of her mother. “Your mother, she really is a pain, in your opinion?” She stirred her drink with the tip of her perfectly manicured index finger. I could almost feel that finger circling the tip of my cock and there was such a rush I thought I might lose it right there. “Mother is very old-school. She thinks there are certain ways things are done and that’s all there is to it. She married my dad because she was told to, and it was the worst thing she could have ever done to the poor man. She emasculates him. She tells him to jump and he asks how high. It’s awful. So, since Mother was forced into a loveless marriage, she thinks she’s entitled to do the same thing to me.” “But you don’t agree,” I prompted. “I do not agree, you’re quite right,” Auggie said, her eyebrows rising in protest at the thought. “I avoid her as often as I can. “And your father?” I wasn’t in my doctor ’s seat but genuinely wanted to know the dynamics of her life. “Dad? I run interference for him the best I can. When Mother launches herself on him, I do something I know will piss her off and sure enough, it draws her attention away and he can escape for a while. It’s the best I can do.” She crossed her legs and my heart skipped a few beats. She was all legs and I wanted them. “What happens when you marry and move away?” I asked.

“Haven’t thought that far. There’s no one in the running right now. When Eric was in the picture, he was going to move into our house.” She sipped her wine at the memory of a disaster barely averted. “He was willing to move in and live in your parents’ home, forever?” I could not imagine willingly putting your life in the hands of your mother-in-law. “Yeah, can you believe that?” She clicked her tongue against her teeth in disgust. Damn! Now I was fixated on her tongue. Would she quit torturing me at some point? “Poor bastard,” I commented, but she was quick to correct me. “No, Mother made sure of that. His “papers” were researched. He was neither, even if his parents may have wished otherwise.” “Did they know?” I asked, referring to his being gay. “I have no idea, but I’m guessing not. Otherwise, Derek would not have been allowed in the house.” She shook her head. “Even the dogs were allowed in the house,” she added and my eyebrows rose a bit at the reference. “Do you have siblings, Auggie?” “This is beginning to sound a bit like an interrogation, don’t you think?” she asked. “No, I’m an only child. How about you?” “I’m an only child as well. I had an older brother who was killed in a car wreck when he was sixteen,” I quickly mentioned. May as well get it out of the way now. “Woah, that’s got to mess with your head,” she said candidly. “I’m sorry.” “He was the good son. He did anything Father put before him. Yes, by the look on your face, I can tell you understand that my Father has some things in common with your mother. She may be a bit less shady than he is, however.” “Can I ask you something?” she looked at me. I nodded. “What do you want with me?” I looked at her; at the shining hair, the eyes and the sweet innocence of her face. “I want all of you.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN Auggie I was all aglow that night as I crawled into bed. I had taken the initiative of putting my arms around his neck and kissing him on the cheek at the end of our date. I wanted to maintain control of where this was headed. Although Worth wasn’t quite the sarcastic bastard I had pegged him to be, I had the distinct impression that he preferred to be in control. I almost felt disappointed, as though I’d lost a foe. This also complicated matters. For the first time in forever, there was a real man interested in me. Someone Mother could not object to. His family was even more respected than ours. There was something essentially wild about him. I could sense it as strongly as if I were seated upon him, riding the jumps. He was unpredictable and refused to follow the course although I suspect he always won. This was rather appealing. Could I rein him in? The next morning, Mother was waiting for me in the breakfast room. I knew she was lurking there. I could smell her morning perfume. I thought twice about following through, but I’d come to the conclusion that Mother would have to learn that she was no longer the only player in this household. “Auggie,” it began. “Mrs. Jessup had to be put in a retirement home.” I almost rolled my eyes at her euphemism. Nursing home wasn’t in Mother ’s parlance. “I’d like you to go by and pay her a visit today.” “Is that so you don’t have to go and smell all the urinals piled in the hallway, Mother?” “Auggie!” “Mother? Tell me you’re not above that. You may end up there one day yourself, you know…in a ‘retirement’ home.” I was feeling particularly sparky. “Elizabeth Augusta!” she sheared off and threw at me. But I caught it well and stomped all over it. “Mother, calm yourself or you will have an attack and I will pack you in the back seat when I go visit Mrs. Jessup this afternoon.” I grabbed an orange, a cup of coffee from the Keurig and headed back to my room to think about the night before. Let’s see, which would I rather dwell upon? Mrs. Jessup or the handsome Dr. LaViere. Poor Mrs. Jessup. *** The ‘retirement home’ took on the far more realistic name of “Sunset Village” and when I arrived, and I knew why. I’d never been in one of these places before and the moment I crossed the threshold, I could define everything I didn’t want in life. I stood at the reception counter for at least ten minutes before a dark-haired woman in nurse’s scrubs and a name tag reading “Betty” strolled past with her cell glued to her ear. She nodded to me and finally ended her call. “Help you?” she asked in a bored tone. “Mrs. Jessup, please.”

“Is she a patient?” I decided to overlook the ludicracy of that question and nodded. I didn’t want to get upset and suck in any more of that air than was absolutely necessary. I could almost see the germs floating around. “You family?” What was this, a prison? Why so many questions? “Yes,” I lied. It was much simpler. “Room 334, bed two,” she announced finally and pointed behind her. There was one central hall and two wings branching off from that. She didn’t indicate which branch but I thought I’d probably figure out the lay of the land. I found Mrs. Jessup without any problem. She was the scared woman in the robe with worn-heeled slippers and a bewildered look upon her face. “Hello, Mrs. Jessup,” I said softly. She looked at me, trying to place me. The last time I’d seen her was the previous year at one of the teas held by young ladies who wanted to make it known they were now of marriageable inclination. Cocking her head, she finally ventured, “Auggie, is that you?” I nodded and smiled, feeling pity for her. She really was a prisoner and that was a feeling I couldn’t abide. To know one would never leave a place like this still standing, it made me ill and I shuddered. “I didn’t recognize you without your horse, dear,” she said and smiled sweetly. “May I take you down to an activity room or somewhere?” I asked. She nodded and I slid behind the wheelchair and pushed her into the hallway where we went in search of any room that didn’t have a toilet. We ended up in the cafeteria and I chose a sunny table in the corner. “How are you doing, Mrs. Jessup?” I began, taking the seat opposite her. I spoke loudly, as seemed customary in a place like this. “You needn’t shout, Auggie,” she said, patting my arm. I’m here because the diabetes is out of control and I’m on dialysis. You know, dear, they hook you to a machine and clean your blood three times a week?” I tried to look interested, but it felt like I was watching a horror movie. I just didn’t know how to act. How does one say goodbye to someone you know isn’t long for the world and yet you want to cheer them up? “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Jessup,” I said to the lady who had always been impeccably groomed and whose Derby party invitations were sought after by everyone who was anyone. “Don’t be, dear. It happens to all of us eventually. I’ll be fine here. They let me have pudding on Wednesdays, even if it is sugar-free.” Pudding on Wednesdays? “Is there anything I can bring you, Mrs. Jessup. Anything I can do?” “No, no, dear. They won’t let you bring anything in and I have everything I need. There is one thing, though…” Her thin lips pressed together and she looked away. “Yes?” “Could you stop by once in a while just to say hello? I miss hearing all the gossip and especially what’s going on with the young people. I know a great many secrets, you know, dear. A great many

secrets.” Her white-tufted head was quivering a bit and I could tell she wanted to cry. I patted her shriveled hand, blackened by the constant poking with the dialysis needle. “Mrs. Jessup, I’m sorry, but what happened? You had funds. How did you end up here?” Her smile faded then and she looked down to her lap. “You remember David and Sarah, right?” I nodded. “I signed everything over to them about a year ago. It seemed so much simpler than probating a will someday. Last Christmas, they told me it would be my last year at home. They were going to find me a place where I would be well taken care of. I have to travel to the clinic every other day.” She laughed. It was a bitter sound. “That’s how I ended up here, you see? This is where they’re taking care of me. They have a driver who takes me.” I wanted to rip someone’s head off. This was a travesty. Mrs. Jessup and her late husband had a huge estate and once bred a Derby winner. They threw lavish parties and everyone was invited. I remembered them from when I was younger. Governors and even a President once attended. Here she sat, shriveled and blackened in a wheelchair among pots of piss. It simply wasn’t right. “Don’t worry, Auggie. They will get theirs in the end. You wait and see.” I nodded. It was the only thing I could do. After another half hour, she asked to go back to her room and take a nap. I wheeled her back and settled her into the flat-mattressed bed with the cheap, dollar store spread and turned the old thirteen-inch color TV so she could see it. It was secured to the metal cabinet upon which it sat with a bicycle cable. As I kissed her forehead goodbye, I made an oath.

CHAPTER TWELVE Worth I can’t get the mahogany-haired colt out of my mind. My schedule is full and while I listen to a series of bitches whine about their husbands, I remembered how green her eyes were. I wanted to decorate her lovely, long neck with green and white diamonds. I wanted to breathe that sweet scent at the base of her neck as I fastened them, to run my finger down her chest until it came to rest upon one pert nipple. Damn! I felt myself growing hard for the fifth time today and judging by the look on the bitch’s face, she was taking full credit. Look at the way she’s winking at me… the tawdry blonde of her hair showed gray at the roots, and she had a neck that matched that of a turkey. I couldn’t daydream with that looking at me. “I think that’s enough for today, Mrs. Tilling.” I urged her to get out with my voice, followed with the purposeful opening of the door. She looked at her watch, shrugged and winked again as she passed me on her way out. The acid rose to the back of my mouth and I wondered, once again, why I had chosen this profession. My waiting room was thankfully empty and I locked myself behind the inner door. I dialed the colt and she answered on the second ring. “How about dinner, fair one?” I asked. There was a girlish giggle at the other end. “You’re asking me out again already?” Another coquettish laugh went straight to my dick. “Miss Homecoming Queen, you know I want you. Why pretend?” There was silence and a wave of fear passed over me. Had I offended her? “Are you there?” I asked finally. “I had to put my crown on the dresser,” she came back with a witty retort and I knew I had my work cut out for me. “Well, now, what did you have in mind?” “I know a quiet little place downtown that serves the best Italian food outside Jersey,” I invited. “Pick you up at seven?” “Hmmm… so now I’m a pick up, huh?” She laughed again and it was musical. “You know where I live?” “I have my ways,” I reminded her. “Ahhh, yes, your ways. See you at seven.” The line went dead and I grabbed my things and headed home to shower and change. On the way, I stopped at a small flower shop that was just closing. I bought a dozen long-stemmed red roses and had the box wrapped with a gold ribbon. It was an obstacle course at the house to avoid Mother and Father, but I pulled it off. Now that they were not paying tuition, my accountability to them had ended. I was to inherit the trust Grandfather had left for me in a few weeks. Staying at the farm had been a convenience up until this point. It was time for that to change. I pulled up to Auggie’s farm, the gravel drive lined by dogwood trees spaced fifteen feet apart.

Their leaves were beginning to color, a sign that winter would be early this year. I pulled into the wide turnaround between the house and the paddock and shut off the car. I debated on waiting to give her the flowers until she got into the car but realized they needed water. Armed and yet even a bit nervous, I approached the door, but she met me there. “Jesus, you’re gorgeous!” escaped from my mouth before I even thought about it. Her hair was wound into a series of braids that seemed to crisscross her head in an intricate pattern. She had little glittery studs I assumed were diamond-headed pins tucked between them. She was wearing a low-cut pale pink silk dress with six-inch heels that wound up around her ankles. Her make-up was minimal, which suited her perfectly. I wanted to pick her up and fuck her right there, but settled for a light kiss on her cheek because I had no idea who might be spying on us. “Come in! I want you to meet Dad and Mother.” She tugged at my sleeve. Why do I feel sixteen, awkward and as if my acne just exploded? “These are for you,” I told her and handed her the bouquet, for which I got a second kiss. She handed them off to someone behind her and then led me through a maze of the kitchen, hallway and into a large room that was banked by floor to ceiling windows. A grand piano was guarding one corner and I saw the backs of a man and woman seated on a floral upholstered sofa. “Mother, Dad, this is Worthington LaViere, III. Worth, I’d like you to meet my mother and dad.” Auggie’s dad stood and came toward me. I shook his hand. He looked a bit pale and overwhelmed, the sort of fellow who wears that look indefinitely. I wasn’t prepared for what came next, however. Auggie’s mother began to stand and then fell back against the cushions, her face robbed of a smile and any shade of human color. I felt a jolt and fought to keep control. The woman whose extended hand just dropped into her lap was none other than Jervis’ Jezebel.

Auggie I couldn’t believe Mother ’s reaction. You would think Worth had just slapped her. Of course, I noted that he had an odd look as well. Had they met before? I’d better not have any trouble out of her over this. She would not win. Her days of running my life have come to an end. I sensed trouble was coming so I quickly said, “Night!” and tugged at Worth’s sleeve to come with me. We got into his Porsche and the poor man behaved as though the devil was at his heels. “What’s wrong?” I asked. “Not a thing,” he said shortly and without conviction. “You’re lying. Have you met my mother before?” “She just reminded me of someone I knew once. Took me a minute to realize it wasn’t the same person,” he said. I chose to believe him… for now, that is. We were at the restaurant in no time. I liked my car, but I liked his better. Everything about him had his personal sense of style. He was sleek, fast, smart, witty and self-possessed. His car fit him well. I wondered if he felt as good as he looked and then blushed for my own benefit. We had a quiet table in the corner with a linen tablecloth, real silver, and china… at least we did. I

noticed other tables had simpler settings and when I picked up my fork and looked at it, he said, “Only the best.” I was blown away by his attention to detail. “So, why did you become a psychologist?” I asked him. “To play with peoples’ heads,” he said without hesitation. My head jerked back a little at that response. “What… like you’re entertained by what people think?” “No, because people are essentially malleable. They become what you suggest they are. They are what they think they are.” “And how does that help them?” I was confused. “Doesn’t, not every time,” he said coolly while cutting the lasagna he ordered. “They come to me because they think they’re broken. They’re generally not broken at all. If I let them go home thinking they’re still broken, they will be. It’s that simple.” I swallowed, needing to know the answer to the next question, but dreading his answer at the same time. “So do you? Do you let them go home feeling broken?” “Depends.” “On?” “Whether they’re a good person. I let bad people go home broken.” “Wait,” I said, setting down my fork. “Are you saying you mess with people’s lives and don’t legitimately help them like your oath compels you to do?” “You’re living in a bubble, dear Auggie. People don’t come to me to be fixed. They come to me to hear it’s alright to be a total screw up, or to use others, or to cheat on their spouse. I’m sort of the medical version of a confessional priest.” “That’s wrong,” I said, and felt the flatness of the words. “Why?” “Because you’re supposed to make them better.” “So,” he said, laying down his knife and looking at me. “You think a priest listens and helps or does he simply give his parishioner the illusion that he’s forgiven and the guy goes right back to what he was doing?” I frowned. “Never really thought of it that way.” “Of course you didn’t, Auggie. You’re a sweet-hearted idealist and I like that. You don’t want to become sour and cynical like me.” He seemed resigned to some sort of inherent evil within himself. “How did you get that way?” I asked carefully, not sure if he knew what I meant. He did. “I suppose you could say it was bred into me. Father dabbles in finance and business, I dabble in the psyche that supports his finance and business. Men are only as important as they believe themselves to be. I prefer to look at what I do as evening the odds. Making all men equal.” “What a fascinating, although perverted, way to look at the world,” I said before I thought about it. He looked at me, the strangest expression on his face. “You’re smart, you’ll see it eventually and that makes me sad.” His voice held real regret. “Why sad?” I was drawn to this man’s opinion and words like a moth to a flame. I sensed there was a danger of rejection more powerful than anything I could imagine, but it was like stepping into the cage with the lion in the meantime. I liked the danger… the thrill of his mocking bluntness.

He looked over the table at me and stared at my eyes. “My dear Auggie, I happen to want to be like you again, and if I can’t do that, I want you with me. I want to be in the glow of your innocence and goodness, to smell the world as you must sniff it, to give people the benefit of the doubt that they are innately good before you look for the cracks that always eventually appear.” His words ended in a wistful whisper. I felt sort of pleased and sort of offended at the same time. “I’m not a child, you know. I’ve seen some things.” I stuck up for myself. “I don’t doubt you have. I would prefer you forget them. It would please me very much if you would begin life anew, right now, right here, with me.” “What are you saying?” I felt a heat deep within me. “Don’t be coy, Auggie. You know very well what I’m saying.” “I’ve known you less than a month,” I protested. “Is there a designated period of time that must pass before I decide I want you?” His logic was so damned simple, so essential and so direct. I wanted to bask in his space, as well. It felt adult and audacious, a combination of environments I had been denied my entire life. I didn’t answer him. I never said a word as he threw a hundred-dollar bill on the table and stood, taking my hand and pulling me out of the restaurant behind him. I didn’t flinch when he pulled me into the shadow of the building and kissed me. It wasn’t a first date sort of kiss. It was a melding of two bodies, even souls, in a fervent need to be one. His tongue searched my mouth and I opened wider, turning my head in an effort to get closer to him. I tasted the wine on his tongue and it was an aphrodisiac, but nothing compared to the male energy emanating from his body. It surrounded me like a force field and while I stood close to him, I belonged to him. He kept me safe, valued and unique. I wanted to belong to him. I didn’t protest as he put me in the car and drove to the Hilton, pressing a bill into the doorman’s hand in return for a key. We stepped calmly into the glass elevator and I wrapped my arms around his neck, closing my eyes against the height. I felt like I was in the canister at the drive-through bank, momentarily lost to the outside world but filled with treasure upon arrival. Worth opened the door and my dress was suddenly on the floor and my hair was being unbraided with his inexperienced fingers. I brushed them away and loosened my hair myself while his hands and eyes brushed my nipples softly and with longing. I don’t remember when he became naked, but it felt like he’d always been that way. He wore clothes well, but he wore his skin far better. My hair, unbound, lay over my shoulders and brushed my waist as I sat with my back to him, cradled between his thighs. His long arms held me against him, his hands fondling my breasts and his mouth kissing the soft flesh beneath my earlobe. I had never experienced anything close to the sensations he was awakening within me. Still seated against him, he used one hand to part my legs and stroked me, pulling me tightly against the hardness pressing against my ass. I was being fondled from both sides and it was the most intense sense of being protected I’d ever felt. “Auggie,” he whispered, but not to me. More like he was assuring himself that I was there, in his arms, adhered to his body. As the quickening began, my breathing became fast and I heard myself mewling like a kitten. I pushed against his penetrating finger in an effort to find my release, needing it harder, deeper. He would not grant it, not so easily. He plunged a second finger inside me and twisted them, pressing right against the bundled nerves

deep within my core. I came, hard and fast, caught by surprise by the suddenness of it. “That’s my girl,” he growled. In one deft move, I found myself lying on the bed, the light from the nightstand illuminating the fiercely possessive look upon his face as he raised himself over me, his eyes trailing over my body as he rolled a condom down his length. In a sharp thrust, he was inside me and had caught my hands, forcing them over my head. In the dimness of the room, I could just make out the glitter of his eyes, but the desire I saw there caused me to lose my breath. I couldn’t keep my eyes open, so I let them drift closed. I was compelled to blank out the visual and live in the world that was touch and smell. His aftershave was organic and familiar, as nostalgic as the smell of my horse. As Worth rode me, I fantasized that we were aboard Carlos, making love as we galloped through a vast wilderness. In my blindness, I imagined I was lying naked astride my horse’s strong back with this man driving himself into me. Every so often, he would leap, his hooves going airborne as Worth held me fast and hard. It was power incarnate and I knew in that moment, I’d met the culmination of everything I’d ever dreamed. Our bodies were slick with sweat as they glided together in a world belonging only to us. His hips slammed against mine one last time, driving him deeper, pressing the base of his cock hard against my clit. A low, harsh noise left his throat as he came, his dick jerking and pulsing inside me. As he stiffened, I opened my eyes long enough to see his head fall back, his mouth open and those mocking eyes close in exultation as the electricity passed between us. The vision of his internal transport brought me to climax and I cried out my release. He captured the sound in his mouth. When he finally fell to my side and held me in his arms, tears of passion and happiness flowed down my cheeks. “My god, but your eyes are like looking into the ocean,” he whispered and tenderly kissed the tears until, with a palpable desperation, he kissed my mouth… hard. It was not a kiss to render excitement, but one of laying claim. I gave it willingly and there was a knowing that passed between us. We had crossed a finish line and decided to share in the win. It was that moment when “I” became “we” and the two of us would never separate in this world. I somehow knew it. We hadn’t known each other for long, but it didn’t matter. I felt complete.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN Worth The sun once again stole its way between the drapes, but this time, the burning came from within. I recognized it as desire. This was unlike me. The adornments of the night never interested me in the daylight. They were disposable, like the tiny bottles from the mini bar glittering on the floor. As I focused, I made out that there were, indeed, things glittering on the floor but they were her diamondheaded pins, not broken shards of glass from bottles heaved against a wall in drunken disgust. She lay against me, her mouth slightly opened in a pout of innocence. Her thick lashes lay against her cheeks and I could not help myself. I bent and kissed her eyelids, pushing back the blankets so I could run my palm over her nipples and down into her soft womanhood. She stirred and in her sleep, rolled to face me, pressing herself against my cock, already hard and yearning. Reaching for the nightstand, I soon rolled on a condom. A moment later, her body accepted mine. Both of us lay on our side as I rocked back and forth gently. We came. I with the realization that I’d never let her go and she, in the orgasmic confines of an awakening dream. I held her as she slowly surfaced, my eyes memorizing the curve of her hip, the texture of her perfect skin and the symmetry of her beautiful breasts. She was, in my opinion, perfection. The idea that she would have fallen into the world of a marriage of convenience sent fury through me. She’d always been mine. “Good morning,” whispered rosy lips chafed by my stubble. “Good morning to you, queenie,” I teased her. “Not nice,” she managed, stifling a morning yawn. “Need coffee.” “Already on the way up,” I told her and the timing proved me right as there was a knock at the door. I pulled the blankets over her nakedness and grabbed my pants as I headed to open it. The bellboy wheeled in a cart filled with domed dishes. I tipped him and indicated I would take it from there. I went into the bathroom and came out, tossing a courtesy robe to her. She slid into it as she folded her knee beneath her and came off the bed to inspect the cart of food. Her eyes lighted when she spotted the juice and she drank it quickly. “Geez, I was thirsty,” she said. “That’s because you snored all night,” I teased and she blushed, quickly wiping the corner of her mouth seeking dried drool. “See what I mean?” I pointed out. “What?” “You didn’t snore but my suggestion of it caused you to behave with guilt and embarrassment. That’s what I mean about people… they are what you tell them.” She wrinkled her nose and took another sip. “Well, you can keep that manipulation to yourself,” she responded saucily. “You’re not as smart as you think you are, you know.” “Is that so?” I prodded her and was rewarded with a flash of those green eyes. “Not everyone is as gullible as you might think. It will backfire on you and you’ll lose

credibility,” she pointed out. “There is no shortage of patients, sweet Auggie.” She looked at me doubtfully and with some disapproval. Why did that suddenly bother me? I don’t remember ever worrying about seeking approval. “Time I got home,” she commented, picking up the pieces of her wardrobe from the floor. I took this as a signal and nodded. I had some of those many appointments waiting. *** She was looking out the window and frowning as I drove her home. “What’s wrong?” I prompted her. “Do you by any chance know Mrs. Jessup, the lady who had all the marvelous barbecues at Derby?” “I’ve heard her name, but don’t know her personally… why?” “Mother asked me to visit her. Her family just put her in Sunset Village. Do you know the place?” she asked in a voice that explained her sadness. “Yes, I do. I did some interning there one summer.” “Worth, I don’t ever want to end up in a place like that.” “You won’t, darling Auggie, I promise.” “I don’t think Mrs. Jessup ever thought she would, either. Her family manipulated her out of money. Left her penniless. She never worked, you know, so she’s reliant on Medicaid now and that’s where she’s gone. It’s so sad. It’s breaking my heart.” This was clearly preying on her mind. I knew the Jessups and remembered the old lady. I couldn’t tell Auggie that Mrs. Jessup’s daughter-in-law was on my patient list. “Why don’t you do something to make it better?” I prompted her. “Like what?” she was truly interested. “You’ve got that nifty degree. Why don’t you go in and offer some consulting services and see if you can’t get some donations or grants for the place to make life a bit better?” She scoffed at me. “You mean like a new bench by the front door?” “Not really,” I said. “More like adding an arts and crafts wing or putting in a small theater where they could watch films. How about a gazebo where they could take tea in a garden with a few flowers?” “Worth! That’s a wonderful idea! I just thought of something. What if we could buy some of the land behind it, build a stable and keep a few older horses there? We could take the residents on carriage rides. How wonderful would that be? You know, animals are great therapeutic company.” “So I’ve heard,” I smiled at her. “There, you see? Now you have a challenge. I’m given to understand that you happen to like challenges.” “I’m with you, aren’t I?” she mocked me, her green eyes luminescent with the delight of her cause. “Auggie, about that…” I began. “I know what you’re going to say.” She twisted in her seat and looked out her side window. “What was I about to say?” I prompted her. “That we should just consider last night a good time and there’s nothing more to it than that.”

I was dumbstruck by her assumption. Was that my reputation? A goodtime Charlie — love ‘em and leave ‘em? “Actually, Auggie, what I planned to say was that I’m going to consider you my girl, from here on. Would that be agreeable with you?” Her head swiveled toward me and her eyes were wide. “Like going steady?” I laughed inwardly at her old-fashioned phrase. “Yes, like going steady,” I agreed good-naturedly. “How does that sound to you?” “Do I get to wear your class ring?” she asked, smiling. I could tell this was not a joke with her, but a happy thought. I twisted my college ring off my finger and gave it to her. “I’d be honored,” I said solemnly and she grabbed it, sliding it on her thumb. “I’ll get a chain for it when I get home,” she said, nodding in approval. For some reason, everything in my world was so right at that moment. This was a foreign feeling. *** After dropping Auggie off, I headed toward my office. It was only now that I let myself consider the ramifications of Jervis’ Jezebel Langford. I knew the safest route for the time being was to keep my mouth shut. I doubted very much whether she would blow the whistle on herself and for now, what Auggie didn’t know, wouldn’t hurt her. I finally arrived at the office, using the back door so I could shower quickly and put on some fresh clothing I had learned to keep there. I poked my head out the door and saw my waiting room held a patient. “Go in, please, and make yourself comfortable, I’ll be right with you,” I invited her as I made my way into the lobby and headed to Patsy’s desk. “How long have you been here?” she asked. “I was about to cancel your appointments for the day.” I ignored her question. “Mrs. Jessup…when is she due in next?” Patsy looked surprised. “Well, as a matter of fact, she’s coming in this afternoon. She’s your last patient for the day.” “Good. Call and confirm,” I ordered and left Patsy with a look of bewilderment on her pretty face. I normally didn’t give a damn about who was on my schedule and I knew the request to confirm would throw her. Oh, well…it’s time I became less predictable. While waiting for the last patient, Mrs. Jessup, I went out to confer with Patsy on the future patient load. Patsy was in a state of anxiety. “What’s up?” I asked, concerned by her behavior. “You’re overbooked.” “I’m what?” I wasn’t sure I understood why she was freaking out about that. “Word has gotten out that one of the most eligible bachelors in town is taking appointments and the phone has been ringing off the hook.” She was clearly overwhelmed and her normally flirting demeanor was becoming a bit bitchy. “So, this is a problem… why?” I was still trying to figure out the issue. “Because you don’t have enough appointments so I have to sift through and figure out which ones

are legitimately crazy and let the ones who are just hot for you go somewhere else.” She was taking herself quite seriously, I could tell. “Patsy, it’s not your job to sort through the patients and decide who is more needy,” I pointed out. “Then do we do it on a first-call, first booked basis?” She truly was a novice. “Of course not, silly. First, we choose the wives that are the hottest looking. They’re here to be reassured of that and when they leave, they’ll tell the other wives about coming here. Then we book their husbands because that gives us something to hold over each one’s head. We leave the crazies for Jervis. He’s good with them.” She looked at me in amazement. “You’re kidding, right?” she asked in awe. “No… not at all. He really is good with them,” I said, leaving her with her mouth hanging open. I walked into my office and she sent the next patient in. From that point on, Patsy and I developed a system. I would take each patient in turn and when that one was done, I followed the woman out and gave Patsy a thumbs down rating if she was a dog. From that point on, that patient was told it would be at least three months before another appointment became available. It was a pure situation of skimming the cream off the top and pouring the sour milk in the direction of Jervis. Patsy finally caught on and things improved dramatically moving forward. *** “Good afternoon, Mrs. Jessup,” I said politely as I invited the bitch to perch her fat ass in my designer chair. She disgusted me, a drastic departure from the normal apathy I felt toward any of my patients. “Dr. LaViere. I was surprised when your secretary called to confirm. Actually, I’d forgotten we had an appointment this afternoon.” “I suspected as much,” I said to her raised eyebrows. “Now then.” I consulted her chart and my notes. “How is the situation between your husband and yourself progressing?” As if I cared. “David is having an affair. I know it for certain now.” She stopped a moment and drew out a tissue, dabbing at her overly made-up eyes. She was born theatrical. I knew she’d come from somewhere on the west coast and most of our set considered her trash. “And how do you know this?” I pushed her. “I found the key to his desk and in his bottom, right-hand drawer, I found a pair of women’s panties.” She poured out this last part with a fresh dab to her eyes as she thought about what she would say next. I nodded to her, encouraging her to go on. “I have no idea who it is, but she must be a cow because they were hardly dainty.” “Has he been acting strangely?” I asked. “David has always been a bit eccentric, so it’s difficult to tell, but lately he’s acting nervous, almost jumpy.” “Do you have a staff, Mrs. Jessup? Could he be interested in someone in your home?” I was headed somewhere, but she thought I was being conciliatory. “No, no. It’s just the two of us right now. We put his mother in a home, you know,” she said callously. She must have realized it because she hurriedly added, “She needed more care than either of us could provide, you see. She’s on dialysis.” I nodded, as though sympathetic. She continued, “We’ll be hiring staff soon.”

I let go of the comment that obviously they could have hired someone to look after her mother-inlaw at home. “Mrs. Jessup, perhaps you and your husband should come in and see me together for some couples counseling,” I suggested. “I don’t think it would help. David is… well, very private.” I’ll bet he is, I thought. “Mrs. Jessup, would you say that you and your husband have a healthy sex life?” I heard her intake of breath, just as I knew I would. She began to cry in earnest now. I was not moved. “We… that is… we don’t share a room. Haven’t for two years,” she finally sputtered. “Is this your preference or his?” I asked, driving in the knife. “Well, a woman can only be turned down so many times before she has to remove herself from the opportunity, doctor.” “Have you talked to him about this? Perhaps there’s something you can do to remedy the separation?” I asked. I knew I was pushing and it was working. “Yes! I ask him about it all the time!” She was crying openly now. I could literally see the guilt pouring out of her wretched mouth. “And what did he say?” “He said he just wasn’t attracted to me any longer.” “Did your husband say why?” I was going for her throat. “A woman my age can’t keep her girlish figure forever, you know. So what if I’ve put on a few pounds? He wouldn’t say that was it, but I knew. I’m so miserable, doctor,” she cried. “Yes, I can see that.” I observed her dramatics. “Were your husband and his mother close?” I pushed again. She looked up with a quizzical look on her face. “How did you know? Yes, yes they are. David didn’t want her to move, but she was too much to handle.” The tears had turned off immediately and the pretense had disappeared. “Would you like my advice, Mrs. Jessup?” I waited, letting the silence lengthen until she nodded. “Very well, and you may not entirely like it. It is my opinion that the only reason you’re here is due to your unhappy marriage. I believe, Mrs. Jessup, that you have the ability to set things right again. I believe Mr. Jessup is probably suffering from guilt for placing his mother in a home.” I held up a hand when it seemed she was about to interrupt. “This may have given him performance issues,” I went on. “Impotence is often a strong indication of guilt. I would suggest that your husband be allowed to minimize that guilt by doing something special for his mother to make up for the abandonment. He should look for opportunities to do that. As for you, perhaps you could feel better about yourself if you set up an appointment with a personal health and fitness assistant.” Her mouth opened. “Wha—?” I didn’t give her time to finish, just bulldozed over her. “They’re quite the rage now, among our set. My receptionist can give you the name of someone on your way out. I don’t believe we’re serving any further purpose here, Mrs. Jessup. Why not give the assistant a try? I believe that will resolve all your issues… completely.” I emphasized this last. I knew by including her in “our set” she felt the rush of snobbery it would take to agree to my plan. That was fine. Our set was hardly anything to brag

about. The bitch agreed and stood up to leave. “Thank you so much, doctor,” she said, wiping her eyes one last time for effect. “You’ve saved my marriage,” she claimed and left my office. I scoffed at her pitiful exit. Her problems were simple: she was a bitch, she maneuvered her husband into taking the old lady’s money and then sent her to a pit, she was fat and over-pampered, and the one thing she could do nothing about was that her husband would never bed her. After all, she’d found his panties.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN Auggie “I want to talk to you, Auggie,” it began again. I rolled my eyes. “Yes, Mother, what is it?” “You were out all night.” “I was? Huh… I had no idea.” “Don’t get smart with me, young lady.” Her voice was condescending and that always pushed my buttons. “Mother, I don’t think there’ll ever be any danger of my being smarter than you.” I pushed one of hers. “You cannot behave this way, Auggie. This simply isn’t done. What will people think?” “Well, Mother,” I sat down on the stool at the breakfast bar and took my time stirring my coffee, “no one will ever know unless you make it your business to tell them. Secondly, why don’t you tell me how it’s done so I’ll know for the future.” Her face went white. For some reason, this stopped her tirade dead in its track. I wondered if she had already told someone. I left the kitchen and passed my father on the way up to my room. “Bit fancy for the morning, don’t you think, Auggie?” He was referring to my dress from the date last night. His eyes sparkled, and I could see he was championing me as long as it was out of earshot from Mother. “Hello, Dad. Sleeping in?” I countered and he grinned. We both knew he enjoyed an hour or two of solitude after Mother rose each morning. I felt for him and the hell he must endure. “Dad? I’d like to talk about something with you. I’m going to hop into the shower and change and then grab a nap. Can we go for a ride, maybe about three?” “Of course.” He leaned to kiss me on the cheek. “See you out there.” He seemed pleasantly surprised and I knew that I was the only thing that stood between him and that hell. A few hours later, we were riding the trails. I was up on Carlos and Dad was riding Trigger, an older horse retired from events. “Did you have a good time last night, princess?” he asked in a genial voice. “He’s wonderful, Dad. He doesn’t care what people think and flaunts everything that has imprisoned me my whole life. I want to be more like him,” I gushed. “Be careful, princess. He comes from good family roots, but his father isn’t someone to cross. He’s a powerful man, a bit unprincipled from time to time but human enough. Take it slow and be sure you meet his family so you know what you’re getting into.” I loved the way Dad treated me. He didn’t tell me what to do, he just supplied me with hints of directions and let me discover the big picture on my own. That was called respect. I told Dad about the situation with Mrs. Jessup and the talk Worth and I had about it. “He thinks I

could start a sort of foundation to benefit the residents there to add improvements to make their life better, you know? Maybe I could even get Mrs. Jessup a dialysis machine so she wouldn’t have to leave every other day for the clinic.” “Auggie, is this my daughter I’m speaking to?” his voice lilted with humor. “What do you mean?” “This is the first time I’ve ever heard you worry about anything more than the next event or whether you had just the right dress in your wardrobe.” “Do you really think I’m that shallow, Dad?” I was disappointed. “I believe you’re proving me wrong as we speak,” he allowed and nodded in approval. “Anything I can do to help?” I reined Carlos to a stop and slid off, tying him to a tree. Dad followed suit. I went to sit beneath a tree, my hands playing with the leaves that had already fallen like a colorful skirt around its base. “I was hoping you’d do just that, Dad,” He knelt and began breaking fallen twigs, the sound punctuating the stillness that lay about us. I could tell he enjoyed the quiet. It was such a deviation from the shrill, anxious atmosphere in the house. “I will be looking to get donations, especially from the people you and Mother know. After all, they know Mrs. Jessup and would be more open to helping her out.” “Have you talked to your Mother about this?” “No, not yet. She would only discourage me.” He tossed a broken twig aside. “Good. For now, why don’t you keep this just between us?” “Is there a reason, Dad?” “No… no… would just be nice to have something only the two of us share.” I knew he really meant it would be nice not to need Mother ’s approval for every footstep or dollar. “Deal. Thanks, Dad.” We sat there for some time, watching the afternoon slide toward the evening. It was growing cooler and getting dark earlier and the smells of autumn were beginning to waft in about sunset. This saddened me for it meant a break when I couldn’t ride Carlos. Dad understood this, and me. “Our winter project,” he commented before going back up on Trigger. “Coming?” he asked. “I’ll be along shortly,” I said, wanting a few minutes to think about Worth without my dad so close. I watched Dad ride down the trail and my cell rang. It was Worth. “What are you doing?” he asked. “Right now? I’m sitting in the woods and watching the sun set. Dad and I went for a ride and he just left. How about you?” “I’m in my car, headed home and can’t get you out of my head. Have you bewitched me?” I turned my face to the sky, warmed by his words. “Geez, this doesn’t sound like you.” “Why not?” “You sound all sappy, not your normally uncharismatic self,” I teased him. “Uncharismatic, am I? I believe there are a few ladies who might disagree with you on that count.” “I really don’t want to hear about them, you know,” I said sternly. “In the past. Listen, are you up for a movie or something?”

I smiled to myself. “What sort of something?” His voice grew lower, deeper. “Whatever you’d like. I’m putty in your hands.” “You didn’t feel like putty,” I said slyly. “Listen to you! Where’s my sweet, innocent Auggie?” “This is goofy. I feel like I’m fifteen,” I giggled. “Hardly. Seriously, I’d like to talk to you about the idea we were throwing around this morning. I can come get you or we can meet.” I thought a moment. “I’m in my riding clothes and have to put Carlos away. Why don’t I meet you at the Chopstick on Hurstbourne in about an hour? You can buy me dinner since I haven’t eaten.” “I’ll see you there. I’ll be the guy with the goofy grin.” I hung up and felt goofy myself. Carlos got a hurried brush down and I jumped back into the shower before throwing on some jeans and a pale yellow, cropped sweater with seed pearls around the low neckline. Sure enough, Worth was waiting for me when I reached the Chopstick and I ordered beef and vegetables. He was very attentive and I realized how much I’d missed him during the day. “This is good,” I said. My reference had nothing to do with the food. “I know,” he said, understanding my meaning completely. “I was thinking the same thing.” “So, what was it you wanted to talk about?” I stabbed a bit of broccoli with my fork. “Have you given any more thought to that charitable foundation for the nursing home?” he asked me. “Well… as a matter of fact, not only have I thought about it, but I talked to Dad and he agreed to help by making the contacts among his friends. Actually, I’m quite sure I’m going to do this. It just feels right.” “Really?” he asked. “Well, I have your first victim.” “Victim?” “The first person to solicit contributions from. Mrs. Jessup’s son, David.” I cocked my head, not understanding what he was getting to. “I don’t understand.” “Just call him. I have a feeling you’ll find him quite helpful.” “Why? He and his wife put her there in the first place. Why would he want to let go of part of that money to help?” “I can’t tell you, just do as you’re told. Don’t use my name.” He was being mysterious. I narrowed my eyes at him. “Well, I’m not going to approach him unless you let me know why he would have a change of heart. I don’t want to look like a fool.” “You won’t, take my word for it. He will welcome it with open arms.” I put down my fork. “What have you done?” I asked with suspicion. He stopped eating and reached across the table to take my hand. “Auggie, listen to me. There are things I cannot talk about, you know this. You’ll have to get used to that fact and not question me about every little thing I tell you. Just trust me. Can you do that?” He seemed as though this was critical. I thought a moment and answered, “Yes, I suppose I don’t have any choice.” “That’s not what I said, Auggie. I didn’t ask if you would trust me, I asked if you could.” I nodded and went around the table to kiss him quickly. This seemed to relieve whatever

apprehensions he was feeling and he smiled. “Good,” he said and went back to eating. “So, you’re really not going to tell me what this is all about?” I asked. “That’s right.” “You wouldn’t set me up to get embarrassed, would you?” His fork clattered to the table. “Auggie, I’m sensing a trust issue here. Do you think I would set you up?” “Look,” I began. “You need to understand something about me. I might appear to be a spoiled brat and all, but I go by the rules. It’s important to me. In fact, it’s the only way I know how to be.” “I know that. It’s what attracts me. I’m bothered that you would think I would intentionally cause you harm.” His voice was hurt. “I’m not sure your definition of following rules and mine are the same, Worth.” I was upset. “Where is this coming from, Auggie?” he asked and leaned back in his chair. “I thought you’d appreciate the tip. I didn’t expect to be attacked for my character.” He wasn’t happy. I sat back in the chair too and crossed my arms over my chest. “You’re right. That wasn’t fair. I apologize.” He continued to stare at me and I needed to get out. “I’m full. Thanks for dinner, and for the tip, but I’m heading home now.” I stood up and laid my napkin on my plate. “Goodnight, Worth,” I said softly and, grabbing my bag, left the restaurant. I cried all the way home and sat in the driveway to finish it off. What is wrong with me?

CHAPTER FIFTEEN Worth I knew I was playing with fire telling Auggie to contact Jessup. It wasn’t so much Jessup I cared about, but Auggie walked a narrow line, one with which I wasn’t so familiar. If anything, the lines I’ve walked in my life have been anything but straight. I went into the office early and noticed that Jervis’ car was in the parking lot. There was no way to know whether he’d never gone home, or whether he was in even earlier than me. I decided I really didn’t care and went into my office. As it turned out, I was to learn shortly. A tap on my door was the only announcement he gave me. I looked up to see Jervis standing in the doorway. “You’ve been avoiding me,” I said calmly. At least he had the grace to flush a bit and clear his throat. “I thought we should talk,” he began. “Oh? Really? What about?” I wasn’t going to make this easy for him. “I, ah, well, you know there was that incident…” he faltered in his words. “Yes.” A simple response that leaned in neither direction. “Well… that is… I’m not sure if you know who that was in my office.” He was begging for me to fill in the blanks so he wouldn’t have to spill more than he needed to. “I’m aware,” I answered. “Good,” he said and took a seat, crossing one leg over the other in a gesture of defense. This was not lost on me. “What can I do for you?” I put him on high alert. “I had a phone call late last night, from the lady in question,” he began. I only raised my brows. “I’m not sure how that involves me.” I gave him no toe hold. “You’re seeing her daughter.” “I still don’t see how this involves me,” I repeated. “She doesn’t want you to,” he stuttered and looked down. “I see.” I tapped a button and music filled the office, making his predicament insignificant and giving the overall message that I was in control. Chopin spilled into the room, weaving around the furniture from hidden speakers, giving an illusory effect of floating. “That’s all you’re going to say? ‘I see?’” he questioned. “Yes.” “Look here, my boy…” he began. “Dr. LaViere,” I corrected. I was strangling him. “Worth, Auggie was a patient here. It’s against our ethics.” “Dr. Jervis,” I emphasized his title. “Her mother sent her and there was nothing wrong with her.

Anyway, I believe the key word here is ‘was’ and now that she no longer is, that ethic is not being broken. Will there be anything else? I have a patient coming shortly and need to prepare for my day.” He looked like a man who’d been abandoned on a climb to the summit. “Will you stop seeing her?” he finally asked bluntly. “That’s my personal life. We’re professionals and that’s where it ends. Have I made my point?” I laid down the law. “So, you will stop seeing her?” he tried once more. I simply stared at him and then at the door. He finally got the message and I could see the sheen of sweat on his upper lip, even in the cool of the early morning air conditioning. “Yes… well,” he said, resigned to the realization that our conversation had come to an unsuccessful end. He stood and walked toward the door. “Jervis,” I said, stopping him cold before he left. “Yes?” he turned around, hope all over his face. “You are not to discuss Auggie or me with her mother, father or any goddamned body ever again. Do I make myself clear?” My voice was cold and completely clear, and he knew he stood in far deeper hazardous waste than he’d ever realized. “Of course, yes, I understand,” he mumbled and left. I suspected that Jervis had dirtied his hands on more than one occasion. He was an idiot, for all his education, and spineless as a jellyfish. I knew he was into my father for a handsome amount as his practice began to fail through incompetence and undoubtedly his little habit of spending afternoons at the track. I knew without question that’s why I had the office I had, but this meant nothing to me. I would have only opened my own and most likely still would. Jervis just had the setup already and it saved me some trouble. I doubted my father was the only one holding a marker for Jervis. His kind weren’t survivors. For the moment, my thoughts went back to the preceding night and the discussion, a/k/a argument, between Auggie and myself. I was disappointed when she’d left so suddenly. She was going to ground, retreating when flustered and unhappy with not being able to break me, as she did her horses. Obviously, there was no way I should share the conversation between the bitch Jessup and myself, and Auggie should have known this. She should trust me enough to realize I was trying to help her. I was pissed that she didn’t, but, more importantly, wondered why that was? Did it have to do with me, or with something on her side of the circuit board? It struck me then that I’d never cared about what anyone else was doing or thought until now. It wasn’t my habit to adjust my behavior to accommodate anyone, most especially not a woman. There was an ample supply. When you pissed one off, you simply went after the next. Even as I thought it, I knew I was lying to myself. There was only one Auggie. That’s exactly why I was in the mess I now found myself in. I was going to have to make some major changes in my life, but somehow that didn’t seem like such a horrible thing at this moment. That afternoon, when the last patient cleared the doorway, I locked up and headed for Joe’s. It was one place where I could think clearly. Joe’s was clogged with the smoke of cigars and pipe tobacco. No one would ever think to file a complaint. There was enough power in that room at any one point to begin the next world war. I made my way to the end of the bar and ordered a bourbon. I forced myself to sip it slowly instead of

ordering six or so lined up in advance. This was the new me. The room was fairly filled this time of the day. It was a gathering of men to confer on the events that had gone on that day and tonight the talk was about the gubernatorial race and who they were to support. Politics in Kentucky was a variable uncertainty. State employees were expected to match the governor ’s party affiliation or lose their job each term. There was an Independent in the race this election, an outsider who was calling for taxing land that wasn’t in crop production and raising inheritance taxes. This flew directly in the faces of the men in this very room, but the candidate had some momentum and he was forcing the others to talk about the topic. This made men in here nervous. I overheard Clinton McLean. In fact, most everyone could since he’d been there for some time and was well into his private bottle. His voice raised in volume as he drank. Everyone knew he was having financial problems, primarily as a result of divorcing Mrs. McLean, whose legs had spread for a few other men but more importantly, whose family had provided the backing to buy his thoroughbred farm. It sounded as if his place would go to the attorneys. I had enough of my father in me to buy him another bottle and slide over to the stool next to where he sat. “McLean,” I acknowledged and he raised the bottle in salute. He wore the requisite wool jacket with patch sleeves and he reeked of booze. Even in this environment of well-worn couture, he stood out as having seen better days. “Thank you, young LaViere.” “Couldn’t help but hear you might be putting the farm on the market. Any truth to that?” He looked upward, as if seeking guidance, blew a smoke ring toward the antique tin ceiling and nodded. “It’s a fact,” he confirmed. “Remind me, how many acres?” I asked casually. “Well now, the house sits on a twenty or so, the barns and farm manager ’s house on another thirty. There’s two hundred in tobacco base and another two thousand fenced for pasture. What’s that add up to?” His mind was beyond the math. “She’s to get it all, I take it?” I asked. He belched loudly and froze for a moment as if considering whether more of his stomach contents were to follow. “Every fuckin’ thing. What the two-timin’ whore won’t get, the lawyers will take.” “That’s unfortunate,” I sympathized, to which he nodded. “McLean, what do you say we get your mind off this for a bit and have a nice, friendly game of cards?” He considered this and smiled. “Don’t mind if I do,” he responded and we adjourned to the room beyond the bar. This was a cooler, cleaner atmosphere and the furnishings were sparse. There were a few gaming tables and I headed to one of the poker rounds and took a seat. Most of the crowd from the bar had overheard and followed us inside. McLean took his seat. A couple of others attempted to sit in, but I waved them off. This game was between McLean and me. I wanted witnesses but no more players. There were grumbles of ungentlemanly behavior as a few glared at me, tugging at their pipes in admonishment. It was child’s play. McLean quickly lost the meager pile of cash he had on him, so I raised the stakes. He looked around for someone to stake him, but was met with opaque stares. He was flushed,

beginning to feel ill. I saw the time was right. I pushed everything I had into the center of the table, twenty thousand at best. “McLean, I have a proposition for you. Let’s play one more hand. I’ll bet everything I have on the table and you put up your farm.” The groan of disapproval was loud around the room. There was even some movement to indicate a few were preparing to drag either McLean or me outside, but we were all gentlemen and as such, responsible for our personal behavior. It was their code that prevented them from interfering. McLean considered my proposal but his eyes were fixed on the pile of cash in the center of the table. He reasoned that he had little to lose and untraceable cash to gain, so he finally nodded in assent. It was quick work. My three of a kind beat his pair of aces and there was a general uproar of disapproval throughout the club. I pulled the cash toward me and then extracted five, one-hundred dollar bills. I pushed them toward McLean and said in a voice that those close by could hear, “It’s been an honor, sir. This is for our bar bill and I expect you to be in my office first thing in the morning with the signed title to your property. I have but one requirement,” I added and there was a hush. “I will hold title to the entire property until such time as the whorin’ bitch is gone and then I would like to lease back the house and its twenty acres to you, for a dollar a year. If you decide to vacate for any reason, including drinking your way to an early grave, it reverts to me. Will also be needing someone to keep an eye on the place and see to things — someone who might know a thing or two about the horse business. Pays a hundred thousand a year. I’ll have my attorney draw up the papers.” McLean’s eyes went from desolation to a glint of consciousness and realization of what just transpired. His mouth worked up and down even as his head shook left and right. “Where will you live?” he finally asked. “I’ll build,” I commented, standing. “You are a gentleman, it’s true and a man who outranks his sire,” he said, paying me a high compliment indeed. There was a general murmur as word spread of what just transpired. Mr. Dougherty, probably the most respectable of the equine pirates inside stopped me by the arm. “That was a noble thing to do, young LaViere, but how will you get her to sign off on it? Surely her name is also on the title.” “She will have no choice,” I said quietly. “Liens must be satisfied before divorce settlements,” I said and he nodded, considering the legalities. What I neglected to tell him was that the errant Mrs. McLean was also one of my patients, one who habitually tugged down her neckline and reclined on the sofa with her legs opened for my approval. I left Joe’s on a cloud of approval and the fresh air outside held promise.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN Auggie Depression sat heavily on my shoulders and I decided to stay home. It was time to put myself through some introspection. I was no longer a child, no longer the college student. I was a woman and if I wanted to be taken seriously, it was time I took myself seriously. I began by going through my wardrobe, making piles of my clothes. One pile was high school things I’d held on to for sentimental reasons. These went into bags and would go for donation. The next pile was college clothes. Most of these would go for donation too. I kept a few pieces with the school logo and sorted through some sweaters I loved, and, of course, my riding clothes. This left me with what I’d bought since I’d graduated and it was scarce, to say the least. Tomorrow, I would drive into the city and buy myself a new wardrobe, maybe even stop for lunch and at the salon. With all the clothes out of the closet, I spied boxes of keepsakes in the back. I dragged these out and began sorting. I found photo albums from when I was a young girl before everything was digital. Two of my favorites were collections of my younger days riding Steeplechase. I turned the pages, running my hand over the pictures in remembrance of those sunny days on the courses, the smell of the horses and the applause from onlookers as I was awarded ribbon after ribbon. Indeed, there were several pages where I’d stuck in these ribbons and they felt like children I’d given birth to. This was a huge part of my soul and I knew I could never leave it behind, not for anything or anyone. I turned the page and saw pictures of riding barbecues my parents had held. My mother looked so fresh-faced, and slender and her hair was her natural shade of red. In other pictures, there were guests at the house, each one posing or deep in discussion or ignoring the camera completely. I turned the page and stopped in shock. There was a picture of Worth! My mind blanked as I scrambled for an explanation and then realized that there was no way it could have been him. He would have been too young. I looked carefully and realized the man in the photos was not as tall and was stockier. This must be his father. How odd that neither Mother or Dad mentioned this. Perhaps they’d forgotten, I told myself as I continued to page through. I found a picture of Mrs. Jessup in her prime. She’d been a beautiful woman, a proud carriage and gentleness in her smile, even then. It had been considered an honor when she attended an affair, a sort of supportive gesture that you had arrived and were one of the elite. Now she was rotting in that nasty facility. My heart ached for her. I resolved that I would get to the attorney as soon as possible and put our heads together to see what could be done to form a foundation. This reminded me of the night before and Worth’s assurance to trust him and to call on Mrs. Jessup’s son for a sponsorship. I don’t know why Worth was so insistent, or what could have changed so quickly in the Jessup household, but this definitely bothered me. Was I unable to trust Worth? Perhaps it was because I couldn’t trust anyone, no matter who they were. I certainly didn’t trust Mother, but Dad had never let me down. Was it possible that Worth was one of the good ones? I could tell Mother didn’t approve of my seeing him, but why? Worth ticked all the boxes on her ‘best son-in-law’ checklist. So why the hesitation? I couldn’t ask because I knew she wouldn’t be

honest, nor would she forbid our relationship because she knew it would only renew my rebellion. She couldn’t take any chances now that I was an adult. Was Worth the forbidden candy for me? Did I truly care for him? In my heart, I knew the answer. *** I loved the baby blue Mercedes Dad bought me for graduation. It suited me and drove like a welltrained horse. I skirted Mother ’s questions as I loaded the bags of clothes for donation into the trunk and back seat. After dropping them off, I headed for the malls and for the more exclusive shops tucked here and there downtown. My body changed since I was in school. While I hadn’t really put on weight, the more feminine areas of bust and hips had filled out and the increased exercise of riding had shaped my legs nicely. Thus, I opted for some short dresses that showed these off to my advantage. By the time I drove home, my back seat and trunk were as filled as they’d been coming into town. I carted everything upstairs and began hanging things up. Mother stopped in to see what I’d bought and I could actually see jealousy in her eyes at the assortment and most especially, the size. “Why didn’t you tell me you knew Worth’s father?” I asked, intentionally taking her unaware. She looked at me, a blank look on her face. “What do you mean?” I laughed at her absurdity. “I found the picture in the scrapbook. At first, I thought it was Worth and then realized the timing was all wrong and this man was shorter. You were in the picture, so surely you knew him.” “Oh, your father was forever throwing those barbecues and I suppose he knew Worthington and included him. I didn’t keep up with all your father ’s friends,” she said, although I noted that she called him by his full name and not simply “Worth.” Perhaps he was, indeed, the power-wielding man Worth suggested he was and giving him a nickname seemed too disrespectful. I was glad Worth didn’t feel that way, although I suspected he encouraged people to call him Worth as a means of demeaning the first name he’d inherited. If there ever was more of a rebel than me, it was Worth. It made me feel warm inside to defend him and to consider him as belonging to me. After I put the clothes away, I called a friend of mine who had graduated from law school at UK and made an appointment for the next day. I would ask his help in creating the foundation. Then would come the test of asking Jessup for the first donation, as Worth suggested. The prospect didn’t scare me, but it did make me wonder once again what Worth had done to turn things around so dramatically. I knew, instinctively, that the men in our set were accustomed to handling business deals outside the office. This had long been their tradition and huge transactions went down on the strength of a handshake. Nevertheless, this was becoming a way of the past as new money continued to infiltrate the establishment, and they brought with them their rules and legal advisors. I didn’t want Worth to somehow overlook the transition in how things were done, or to get caught out of his element and be unable to maneuver his way out of the predicament by calling in old favors. He was a grown man, however, and I’d have to trust him as he was asking me to do. In reflection, I could see that perhaps I’d been unfair to him and wondered whether I should feel obligated to make it up to him in some way. I hadn’t heard from him since the dinner I’d left; he was giving me time to cool down. He not only knew me as a person but as a patient. He understood how I reacted and I doubted he took offense at anything I’d said or done. I just wanted to make sure, though.

I went to bed that night feeling considerably more cheerful than when I’d awakened. I had no inkling, however, of how drastically my life was about to change. *** I rose early and dressed in semi-business attire. I was to meet Brandon Knotts, my friend from college at eleven but had asked him to meet me outside Sunset Village instead of at his office. I think he’d always had a crush on me and was only too glad to hear my voice on the phone and accommodate where I wanted to meet. I saw his eyes light up a bit as I climbed out of my car. I’d worn one of my new suits, soft pink with a rather short skirt. He kissed my cheek and held on perhaps a bit too long for casual greeting, but I let him get away with it. “This is it,” I said, waving my hand toward Sunset Village. “This is what?” he asked, looking without really seeing. “I want to start a foundation and have the proceeds benefit this home for retirees. I have a friend who is here and it’s pretty dismal inside. I want to improve life here. Who knows where this might lead.” “And you want me to do the legal work,” he followed, grinning. “Yes, of course you will. Remember that I know where your skeletons are buried,” I reminded him, smiling. “You always were a little dickens, Auggie. Seeing anyone these days?” he asked. Brandon could be counted on never to overlook the details. “Maybe, maybe not,” I said mysteriously. No point in bursting the boy’s bubble until I’d gotten out of him what I wanted. Brandon turned to look at the home and asked, “So, Auggie, dear, what are you hoping to accomplish with this foundation?” His brown eyes were warm and I remembered him as having a big heart. He was looking especially handsome in a light tan suit and the changing leaves on the trees provided the perfect foil. “Well, I would like to add some activities to benefit the residents. A stable for carriage horses, an arts and crafts wing, a dialysis clinic, an expanded dining room and a movie theater to begin with.” “I’m impressed. In fact, I may decide to live here myself,” he teased. “Relax, Romeo, there’s no one there who’s your type, but I’m sure we can find something useful for you to do.” “I don’t doubt that… don’t doubt that at all,” his voice was thoughtful. “Well, let me go inside and have a chat with the administrator and see what we’re dealing with. I suggest you leave this to me and I’ll be in touch. What about property?” I pointed to acreage behind and alongside the home. “Take your pick. Figure out how much you want and Dad will help us get the owner to sell or maybe even donate it.” “You don’t miss a trick, do you, Auggie?” “That’s why I ride,” I sidetracked. “I hope he knows what he’s getting,” he commented. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t be coy. You know exactly who I mean. It’s all over your face. Don’t panic. I’ll still help you, but don’t forget me if things don’t work out. Deal?” He laughed and hugged me. “Deal!” “Okay, now go away. I’ll be in touch.” I left Brandon gathering up his laptop and briefcase and got into my car. On the horizon were heavy, dark clouds, drooping like leaves that were trying to hold back the winter that wasn’t far behind. I shivered, knowing my riding days were soon to be curtailed. My cell rang and I grabbed it up, keeping one hand on the wheel. It was Worth. “Hello there,” I said in the most neutral tone I could manage. “Busy?” “Just left my attorney at the home,” I filled him in. “As a patient or as a promoter?” “Very cute.” I couldn’t tell if he was teasing me nicely or being a jerk. “Have an hour or so?” I thought about it a moment and decided whether to rush home and ride Carlos before the weather came in or whether Worth deserved another chance. “Okay, where do I meet you? I’m not in dinner clothes,” I informed him. “Good, because I wasn’t talking dinner. In fact, business wear is just fine. Meet me on Morley Road at Lexington.” I thought momentarily. “That’s the McLean farm,” I pointed out and wondered what was going on. “See you there,” he finished the conversation and the line went dead. Now, what’s he up to? I rolled my eyes and began to reconsider. The clouds were building even more and I wasn’t dressed for rain. Nevertheless, I’d promised myself to trust him so I drove to the McLean place and saw him waiting for me. I pulled in behind his car and he came back, offering a hand to help me out of the Mercedes. “Hi,” he said, kissing me briefly, but warmly. At least I was definitely feeling warmer after his lips left mine. “So, what’s going on?” I asked and looked toward the looming skies. “We’re not going far, don’t worry. I won’t let you get wet.” He gestured to the land in front of us. “You know this place?” “Of course, it’s the McLean farm. I hear they’re in some trouble, though, so it might not be for long.” “You hear correctly and you’re right, it won’t be theirs for long. For less than twenty-four hours, as a matter of fact.” “How do you know that?” I looked up at him. Even in my heels, he towered over me. He bent low and kissed me full on the lips. “It’s mine. Or, it will be as of tomorrow morning.” “What?” I squealed. “You bought this? Oh my god, Worth, that’s wonderful. It’s a beautiful farm! The barns could use some work and the house, well… but the land is prime and I think it’s all fenced. You could build a whole Steeplechase course and still have plenty of pasture land. Oh geez, you’ve got frontage on two sides and it would be perfect to build training rings and not block anything off!” Thunder droned in the distance. I turned and saw Worth leaning against the fence, grinning.

“I’m glad you like it,” he said. “I love it! You lucky dog!” I gave him a congratulatory hug, but he would not let go. Instead, he scooped me up and held me against his chest, kissing me at the same time. “I’m not going to lose you, Auggie girl. I want you with me. Marry me and live here with me?” I pushed against his shoulders so I could lean back and look at his face. Was he teasing me? Was he really serious? One look at his face and I knew… he was serious. “Will you marry me, Elizabeth August Langford?” he repeated. I could hardly catch my breath and my mind was whirling like a tornado. There I was, all prepared to give him another piece of my mind and instead, I was in his arms and the recipient of a marriage proposal. I quickly weighed the impact. Mother would be aghast, so that was a definite positive. I could move away from home yet be close to Dad and best of all, I could have a house of my own, and plenty of land to build anything I wanted. Best of all? Was I missing the link here? I would be married to this man. I would become Auggie LaViere and everything that was connected to that. This handsome, successful, brilliant man, who also happened to be known for promoting the position of “black sheep” to an all-time high with his disdain for convention — this man who made my breath pause in my throat, would be mine. I would sleep with him at night and outwit him during the day. Nothing sounded more intriguing and more like me than that exact thing. “Yes, Worthington LaViere, III. I will.” Worth clutched me to him and swung round and round, laughing aloud. I’d never seen him be this carefree and it made me laugh. “You lied,” I accused him. “What? What did I lie about?” “In case you haven’t noticed, it’s raining and I’m getting soaked!” He laughed again and shouted, “You can give me a thousand lashes with that beautiful tongue and I will be forever chastised. Just stay with me, Auggie. I’m in love with you and this,” he waved his arm, “is where we’re going to build a life. We’re going to begin with a house — anything you want, and then you can have your course and your barns and your horses and anything else your pretty heart desires. As long as you always want me.” I kissed him then, molding my hands to either side of his strong chin. “I love you too, Worth. God help me, I’m not sure why, but I think I do.” “There was some doubt?” Worth asked, jesting. I nodded. I wasn’t jesting.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN Auggie I pulled into the drive and ran into the house. Mother was standing in the doorway of the kitchen, the look of disapproval at my appearance all over her face. “Oh, Auggie, your beautiful new suit. What a shame. Why didn’t you take a coat or an umbrella?” I could tell she was on a bender. She had a martini in her hand and the tone of her voice told me she wasn’t going to wind down for some time yet. Worth and I had agreed not to tell anyone about our engagement for the time being. We knew there would be an uproar, one way or another. We didn’t want any interference, advice, threats, mocking, or judgment. Essentially, we wanted to be left alone. We weren’t even going to get an engagement ring. I wore his class ring around my neck on a long chain. We’d plan a wedding sometime in the future, but in the meantime, Worth was going to build a new house on the property and I’d have equal input. When the house was finished, we’d begin to think about wedding plans. As badly as I wanted to tell Mother to screw herself and leave me alone, I smiled and went up to my room. I was amazed how much easier that was to do when I knew I had Worth at my back. Worth had suggested that we go away for the weekend and I chose to go to a bed and breakfast in Shelbyville. It was a small, charming town between Louisville and Lexington and was filled with dozens of renovated old Victorians. We just wanted time to be alone. Worth picked me up very early, before Mother or Dad were even awake. I left a note on the coffee table saying I’d be gone for a couple of days — no further explanation. It was none of Mother ’s business how and with whom I spent my time. “You have no idea how hard it was not to say something about the engagement,” I told him as we drove. “Mother laid into me about getting wet, treating me like a child again and her already drunk.” Worth was strangely silent about Mother. I think he just didn’t want to mix in and cause trouble. There would be enough of that on the horizon once our wedding plans were announced. We arrived earlier than check-in time and chose the opportunity to wander around town. There was a quaint little shop that catered to everything Scottish. Its walls were lined with bolts of plaid and the clan names were attached to each one, in case the shopper was too far removed from their heritage to know what theirs looked like. I mentioned that I loved Scottish shortbread cookies and Worth bought me a huge tin of them. I adored dipping them into coffee while reading or watching a cozy afternoon movie. We found a gourmet shop and bought the very first items for our new life together. I loved this belonging; it made me feel such a part of him. I realized at that moment that although Dad and I had a wonderful relationship, he still jumped to Mother ’s tune and I had to compete with that on a daily basis. Worth, however, was mine. I didn’t need to share him with anyone and most of all, not Mother. I didn’t doubt that his own family would pull at him from time to time, but as far as I could see up to this point, he didn’t allow much of that to happen.

We chose a canister set, white with multi-color flowers circling them. The woman was kind enough to pack them up in a box and Worth stored them in the car. He said we would rent a storage locker near our new home and begin to accumulate things we loved there. With that purpose in mind, we bought a padlock with two keys, one for us each. It was these simple things that really made me happy. There were some saddle bred farms in the area and we drove by and even stopped alongside the road to watch the horses running in their pasture. We talked about the horses I would buy and the Steeplechase I wanted to build. I planned to study all the well-known courses in the meantime so that I would have a world-class field. I dreamed of hosting my own events in the future, and Worth said we should take the time to sketch out our farm on paper so we could make the plans to better scale. To this end, we found a café in town armed with a sketchpad we bought at the art store next to it. We spread our sketching materials across a four-person table and prepared to set to work. I loved the idea of planning my future with Worth. He was brilliant, although he sometimes hid it well. Worth got up to get us drinks and sandwiches. I’d spied the chicken salad on croissant when we walked in and that’s what I ordered with a serving of fresh fruit. I ordered a raspberry iced tea to which Worth rolled his eyes and I had to laugh. I was using the ruler to proportionately measure out the lay of our land when a voice came up from my side. “Well, look who’s here,” said Brandon, grinning widely. “Brandon!” I was so surprised my voice was louder than I meant it to be. “Auggie, imagine finding you here in this little café. Don’t you generally head toward the big city when you’re getting out?” I just smiled. Internally, I was grasping for something redeemable to say. “Mind if I join you?” Brandon slid off his light leather jacket and hung it over the back of one of the chairs. It set off his eyes which were now sparkling with innuendo and hope. My eyes flared in alarm. “Brandon, nice to see you. Actually, I’m waiting for someone.” I knew I didn’t want to alienate him since he held the key to everything I wanted to accomplish at Sunset Village. Even so, I couldn’t very well explain all the drawings and of course, Worth, without some indication of what was going on. A shadow crept up behind me and I turned my head enough to see Worth had returned and was holding a large tray with our food. I leapt to my feet. “Oh, here, let me help you,” I said, removing the drinks first to lessen the danger of them spilling. We sorted the food and Worth looked to Brandon. “Worth, this is my friend, Brandon. You remember, we went to school together and he generously offered to help with the project at Sunset Village.” Worth stuck out his hand in acknowledgment, “Brandon.” Brandon’s face fell as he realized that he not only was imposing, but that he was face to face with the man I was interested in — the reason I hadn’t accepted his flirting. Brandon slowly reached out to take Worth’s hand and gave it a weak and brief shake. “Well, I can see I’m interrupting,” he began and I felt the pressure of my rejection pressing upon him. “Of course you can join us,” I said quickly and gave Worth a look that begged him to play along. “As a matter of fact, it’s perfect timing. We were just sketching out the lay of the land with Sunset Village so I could pencil in where and what I wanted to build.” “Oh… well, in that case, perhaps it is good timing because I planned to call you on Monday about

that anyway.” He looked to Worth and I could see the veins in Worth’s neck pulsing as he forced a smile and offered Brandon a seat with a brief sweep of his hand. “Can I get you something to eat?” Worth went so far to offer. “A coffee would be great,” Brandon answered and I knew Worth was cringing inside and that Brandon had just moved a chess piece to endanger Worth’s queen. Worth nodded, stood and moved off to get the coffee, but as he stood at the counter, he never took his eyes off us. I hurriedly completed the squares I was drawing, trying to imitate the land of Sunset Village. Then I drew a rectangle in the center to represent the building itself. “Let’s wait for Worth to come back,” I said. “Who is he to you?” Brandon asked. I had put myself in a trap and was squirming at that moment, trying to figure out how to free myself. I chose subterfuge. “Worth’s family is friendly with my family; they go way back.” I felt Worth standing next to me and looked up to see a completely bewildered look upon his face. I knew I was going to hear about this later. For now, I mustered on as best as I could. “So,” I went on, “did you have news, Brandon?” Brandon looked from Worth to me and hesitated. I nodded to him to go on and he finally began to talk. “I checked in with the facility administrator and it seems that they aren’t part of a chain, which is the good news. That means you don’t need to get approval any higher than the owner of that particular home, and you won’t need to ‘spread around the wealth,’ so to speak. What’s not as good news is that the facility is barely breaking even right now. They have grave concerns about the construction noises disturbing the residents and the maintenance of all that you’re planning to add on. So, they need some sort of guarantee that this won’t interrupt their day-to-day routine and environment, as well as a provision for the upkeep and maintenance for the additions. They barely have staff to keep what they have going.” “Yes, I noticed that when I was there,” I said. “So, they’re not saying ‘no.’ They just need better planning and follow-through. Is that what you’re saying?” “Pretty much,” Brandon answered and I looked to Worth whose face was dark, the muscle in his jaw still twitching. At the same time, Brandon was clearly enjoying himself. He loved the role of hero. “Don’t worry, Auggie,” he continued. “I’ve got you covered. I’m drawing up the papers to form the charity foundation and then will apply for tax-exempt status. We’ll make sure it’s well-funded before we turn over the first shovel of sod and will figure out something to keep the residents from being disturbed. Anyway, winter is coming soon, so there’s nothing that can be done for at least the next five months or so with regard to construction. I suggest you use that time to begin your fundraising. After all, people are looking for tax deductions this time of year. I think you said your dad was going to help get you started?” I nodded and smiled. “Dad’s a good egg.” Brandon saw that Worth was even darker, if anything, and he was eating it up. He scooted his chair closer to mine and chirped, “So, let’s see what kind of planning you had in mind.” I hesitated only a second and then began stacking things up. “You know… I’m sorry, but I’m getting a monster headache. I think maybe we’ll continue this another time? Worth, would you take me home?” I didn’t dare look at Worth and I knew he hadn’t even begun his lunch.

“Oh, what a shame,” Brandon cooed. “But listen, Worth there hasn’t even begun eating. Why don’t I run you home, Auggie, and let Worth eat in peace?” Brandon stood up and slurped the end of his coffee. “See, I’m ready to go.” “Oh, no, I couldn’t,” I demurred. “Oh, it’s no problem, none whatsoever. We can catch up on the ride back. I’ve wanted to get in touch with you for some time.” Worth stood and picked up our food-laden plates, chucking them both into the garbage before slapping the empty tray on top of the trash bin. “We’re all done eating, Brandon,” he snarled the name. “I’ll take Auggie home and you don’t need to give it a second thought.” Brandon looked at Worth’s expression and gave a cocky half-smile. “Like that, is it?” “You got it,” Worth said simply. Brandon shrugged and looked at me. “That okay with you, Auggie?” I nodded immediately and Brandon smiled again, that knowing smile that said everything and yet revealed nothing about the extent of his speculations. “Good enough,” he said and stood there, tapping the back of his chair, waiting while we packed up our things. I guess he was using that time to rub it in a bit more and he knew very well that Worth and I would be having a fight about this when we left. He was getting in one last, subliminal punch at Worth, all the while pretending chivalry. Worth’s entire body was stiff with anger, but he could say or do nothing. I felt my heart go out to him and knew it was all my fault. Brandon stood next to the door, waiting for us and as we approached, he swung it open and stood back to let us pass. It was yet another subtle alpha move to indicate he was in control of the door and was allowing Worth to leave. I was completely helpless. A skilled trial lawyer and a highly-educated psychologist; how could I even begin to compete? The headache was no longer a fabricated excuse. It was building in the stress center of my brain. Brandon insisted on walking us out to Worth’s car. There was no opportunity to turn around and go back into the restaurant. I thought it couldn’t get worse, but it did. Brandon piped up. “Auggie, I’m going to be tied up with a trial next week so I’ve got some papers at the office I’d like to get you to sign today. That way I can finish everything up and take it with me to the courthouse on Monday morning to file. I’ll drop by your house this evening and get that little detail taken care of.” What could I say? Oh, the tangled webs… “Brandon, I think my parents are having guests tonight.” “Perfect! Always room for one more at the table, isn’t there? Dinner at seven, as always?” I was breathless at his audacity. Worth, on the other hand, looked ready to kill him. I smiled weakly and Brandon saluted the settled deal as he walked down the street, whistling. Worth opened my car door and I slid as gracefully as a sinking ship can manage into the seat. Worth got in next to me. “You and I are going to have a little talk, young lady.” “Don’t do that.” “Don’t do what, Auggie?” his voice was loud and angry. “Don’t begin that interrogation attitude. I get it from my mother, but I will not tolerate it from

you.” Okay, so perhaps I went a bit strong but sometimes the best defense is the unexpected offense. Regardless, we had better start this marriage thing out with an understanding about who was in charge of me. Worth was furious and started the car, pulling out and doing a one-eighty degree turn from the parking space. We were headed back toward my house. I hung on to my seatbelt but was too frightened to say a word. He passed the sign for the city limit going a solid eighty. I couldn’t hold it back any longer. “You have some anger issues, you know that?” I popped off at him. Fifty feet later, I found myself sitting at the end of someone’s driveway. I’d never seen a car turn ninety degrees to a screaming stop like that before. I tried to open the door, but Worth had his finger planted firmly on the child-proof lock. I was trapped and began to panic. Worth was staring a hole into the side of my face. Without warning, he slammed the car into reverse and retraced his path. We were now headed back toward Shelbyville. At least this time, I had the presence of mind to keep my mouth shut. Two minutes later, we were pulling into the parking area of the bed and breakfast. Worth leapt from the car and before I could unbuckle my seatbelt, he had my door open and was pulling me out. He threw me over his shoulder like a bag of feed and strode into the door of the quaint inn. After tossing a five-hundred-dollar bill on the reception desk, he took the stairs two at a time. He threw me on the four-poster bed and slammed the door. The lock clicked a second later. How did he even know which room was ours? I barely had time to mentally condemn him for being a regular customer when he approached the bed and began tearing my clothes off… literally. I began to fight, slapping him across the face and pushing at the arms that pinned me to the bed. “Lie still,” he said in a low growl through gritted teeth. Within seconds, I was naked, and so was he. His mouth came down on mine and it hurt, but it was a wonderful hurt; a possessive hurt that told me everything I might have ever questioned. He was erect and throbbing, entering me not forcefully, but with a smooth movement that allowed no foreplay. It, too, hurt, but it was the same wonderful, possessive pain as his kiss. Worth lunged into me over and over and I cried with the joy of it. His face relaxed from the anger it had held to an adoration and triumph. He was the hunter and now he was taking possession of his prey — me. I let myself get swept away in the momentum of transitioning emotions. The tears streamed down my cheeks and through them, I kissed his face, his eyelids and finally his mouth. “I love you, I love you,” I murmured into his ear just before I pushed my tongue into it to hold the words in place in his mind. “I love you too,” he rasped and took over my mouth, building us both to the summit. The world exploded and we fell into a fetal position, clinging to one another in desperation of losing the moment and the touch. We lay this way for an hour, only a coverlet above our naked bodies had changed. Worth held me tightly. “You swear to tell me the truth?” he whispered. I nodded and folded into his body more closely. “Who is he to you?” “Just a friend from college. His family is connected and I thought if I could get him involved, there would be more donations,” I answered quickly, pushing the words out like a four-year-old who had been caught in the cookie jar.

“Does he know about me?” “He was flirting with me the other day and I wouldn’t answer him about if I was seeing someone.” “Why?” “You and I are part of my private world. It’s no one’s business what you and I do,” I explained and felt the nod of agreement as his chin moved against the top of my head as I cuddled against his broad chest. “Why did you tell him our families were old friends?” “I found a picture in one of Mother ’s old albums. There was a man I thought was you until I realized he was shorter and stockier. I knew it must be your father and they were all standing at one of Mother ’s barbecues. She was famous for them. I quizzed her about it and she said your father and mine were acquaintances.” I felt Worth’s body stiffen, but was content to answer questions only. “Why him?” Confession time. “He’s easy to get to and has always had a thing for me. I knew I could get his cooperation and I guess you could say I’m using him for that. He’s my link to a great deal of other cooperative people.” Again, I could feel Worth’s head nodding. “One more question.” I tipped my head so I could look him in the face. “Are you hungry?” he asked, a glimmer of humor in his eyes telling me that the storm had passed. We were on the same footing now and would be, forever. In fact, I believed he approved of my using Brandon. Although, I can’t safely say he would feel the same if it was someone else. “I’m starved,” I said. Worth kissed me once more and in a single, smooth motion, rolled off the bed and began dressing. “Your clothes are ruined. I’ll be back. Take a nap,” he ordered and for once in my life, I did as I was told.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN Auggie I hadn’t been asleep long when there was a knock at the room door. I gathered up the sheet around me and inched it open. There was a young woman standing there and she had shopping bags in both hands and surrounding her feet. “The gentleman said I should deliver these to you,” she said. I nodded and stood back to open the door. She brought them all in and laid them on the bed. “Have fun,” she said. “You’re a lucky gal.” Worth, it seemed, was bent on spoiling me. I pulled clothes out from between tissue paper and found several expensive, as well as casual, outfits with underthings and even some nice jewelry to match. There were shoes and stockings and everything fit perfectly. He was a good judge of size, it seemed. I was dressed and had remade the bed by the time he came back. I kissed him for the gifts and cleared the table by the window for the food. As I unpacked it, he dragged over chairs and hung his jacket up in the closet. He saw all the clothing and turned around, “Did I do okay?” “More than okay,” I answered. “As the girl said when she delivered it, I’m a lucky gal.” “See that you remember that,” he said, grinning. We feasted and I fed him grapes like Cleopatra. We kissed and even fondled one another a bit. It was lovely and the sun began to set before I suddenly remembered Brandon. “I can’t let him show up without Mother expecting him. He’s certain to tell her where he saw me and who I was with.” “It’s going to come out eventually, Auggie.” I shook my head. “You don’t know Mother. This isn’t the sort of thing she wants to hear from relative strangers, no matter the standing of his family. In fact, that would make it worse. I’m not going to give her something more to bitch about. There’s no choice, I have to go home.” “Now?” I heard the disappointment in his voice. “I know. It’s my fault and you can take it out on my hide later on, but for now, please humor me. Take me home in time for dinner so I can intercept Brandon.” “What about me?” the storm was gathering in his face again. “You’re invited as well, of course.” “How is that different from her finding out about us from someone else?” he posed the question. “Mother wouldn’t dare cause a scene at her own dinner party. I’ll deal with her questions later on, but for now, let’s get going.” An hour later, both suitably attired, we walked into the house just as Mother was beginning to serve cocktails. We had beaten Brandon and for that much I was grateful. Mother looked up when we came in and I saw her face go white once again. What an odd reaction she was having to Worth. “Mother, Daddy…there will be three more for dinner,” I announced.

“I thought you were gone,” Mother began in a chiding voice. “Change of plans. Worth was kind enough to bring me home and while I was out, I ran into an old school chum who has agreed to do some legal work for me. He should be arriving at any time.” I could tell Mother wanted to protest, but there were already guests in the room and this prohibited her from acting out her role as inquisitor. I was grateful for that. I personally set three more places at the table and was glad to see she was serving prime rib so the roast could be sliced just a bit thinner than normal and there would be plenty. She always had more food than necessary, something about being poor and hungry at some primeval part of her life. I heard a commotion at the door and realized that Brandon had arrived. Since Worth was the only person who remotely knew him, he’d been elected to welcome him in. I took this duty over and the rest of the night was a nightmare of maneuvering between my two admirers. Brandon took the chair next to mine and Worth asked me to get him steak sauce from the kitchen. When I returned, he was seated in my chair and I was to his right. I sat on the sofa and Brandon scrambled to take the seat next to me. Worth admired something of Dad’s from the library and offered to show it to Brandon, and then took his seat while Brandon stood. It was quite a production and childish, at best. Dad smiled quite a bit and Mother was fascinated. The rest of our guests were highly entertained and I was simply humiliated. At one point, I was ready to go to my room or outside and ride Carlos, even in the darkness. The horrible evening finally came to an end. I signed the paperwork Brandon brought. It amounted to essentially a standard blank form since he’d not had time to prepare anything in advance of this ruse. He lingered, wanting Worth to be the first to leave, but it became embarrassingly clear that Worth was not going anywhere until Brandon was gone. I was beginning to wonder which of them would piss on me first. In the end, Worth stood his ground and I loved him for it. His technique was wonderful, as far as I was concerned. He cornered Dad as soon as Mother ’s guests were leaving and when Brandon finally said his goodnight, I found them in Dad’s study. Each held a snifter of brandy and they were talking about the people they knew in common. This was Worth’s way of insinuating himself into Dad’s good graces. I heard him utter a quiet compliment from time to time, further ingratiating himself. Mother, on the other hand, Worth completely ignored. It was as if she were not sitting in the house. She’d been left in the living room, a martini still in her hand. She motioned to me to sit down after I’d looked in on the men. “What’s he doing here again?” she asked. “Who?” “Worth LaViere, that’s who. Don’t play games with me, Auggie.” “Worth invited me to lunch and Brandon happened to show up at the same place. Brandon invited himself to dinner and Worth accompanied me. I was only being polite, Mother.” “My ass,” she snarled and I was taken aback. I couldn’t ever remember hearing her use such crass language. She simply did not do that. It must be the liquor talking. “Who is this Brandon and what does he want?” she went on to him next. “Brandon comes from a very good family, the Knotts, in Woodford County. His people are into tobacco mostly which is probably why you haven’t crossed paths. I knew him when I went to school at UK. He’s now an attorney with a wonderful future.” “Is he a suitor?” she wanted to know.

This was a time for twisting truth. “I really can’t say, Mother. I know he’s had a thing for me ever since school.” “Yes, but do you have a ‘thing’ for him?” she pressed. “Mother, you know you’re in full charge of my future, as always. I put it in your hands,” I said, feeding her sense of superior rule. She loved this and smirked with vodka lips. I escaped as she filled her glass again and tapped on Dad’s study door to find the men in a pleasant conversation. They were swapping tales and both of the men seemed relaxed in one another ’s company. I breathed a sigh of relief. One down, three to go. Worth stood when I entered. He gave a sort of a half bow to Dad and said, “Sir, it’s been a pleasure. I believe there’s a certain young lady awaiting me.” Dad nodded and smiled as I kissed him goodbye. We cruised quickly past Mother, although I doubt she even cared as she pretended to be occupied with her martini and the fact that she had a run in her stocking. “Come and meet Carlos.” I tugged at Worth’s sleeve. “Yet another of your suitors?” he asked in a teasing voice. The night was cooler than I’d expected and Worth slid off his jacket and put it over my shoulders. We walked toward the paddock. It was dark but I knew my way blindfolded. As we entered, the heat from the animals and the smell of dung warmed me immediately. Sometimes I felt like I wanted to sleep there. I walked him over to Carlos’ stall and began to pet the soft nuzzle. “This is Carlos, the first man I ever fell in love with,” I introduced him. Worth smiled and patted Carlos’ nose. “Competition, eh?” “Actually, I’ve had fantasies that involved you aboard Carlos, if you must know,” I said. This got his attention. “Really? Care to share?” “Not with a doctor. Don’t want to be analyzed. Let’s just say I like the reality far better than the fantasy,” I teased him gently. “Fantasies are a good thing. Perhaps one day we can act it out. Just show me what to do,” he said as he put his arms around me. “Where will you sleep tonight?” I asked. It was late. “With you?” he ventured, looking in the direction of the house. “I don’t think so. Mother has a habit of prowling and while Dad seemed to be fine with having you around, she’s another thing entirely.” “Don’t worry about me, Auggie. I always manage to land somewhere.” “Alone?” “Unless you’re coming with me,” he suggested. “I don’t think I could manage that a second time today. Anyway, I’m exhausted. We started out so early and it’s been a long day.” “Then let me kiss you here with only Carlos watching and I’ll be on my way.” It was a long, deep kiss, the kind that made me want to let my knees collapse and push him into the straw bales, just to get skin to skin. I knew the danger of discovery was too high for that here, but someday… “Worth?” “Yes, my sweet?”

“When will you begin building the house?” “When would you like?” “Tomorrow?” “Then tomorrow it is. This time, however, we’re going to meet on my turf. I’ll meet you at my office at one o’clock and we’ll start preliminary drawings I can get to an architect. How’s that?” “I love you.” He kissed the tip of my nose. “Auggie, I want to hear you say that a dozen times a day for the next eighty years.” “You’ve got a deal,” I answered as we walked out of the stable and Worth climbed into his car and left, blinking his headlights as he went down the long drive.

CHAPTER NINETEEN Worth I wasn’t fond of this game Auggie was playing. As much as I wanted her, she needed to be tamed a bit. She’d obviously been high-handed her entire life, and I was fairly certain once we were married, she would transfer her target from her mother ’s back to mine. I wasn’t about to let that happen. Once again in the office, I made some calls. “Bill? Worth here. How are you?” Auggie wasn’t the only one with old school chums waiting to do her bidding. Bill Daughtery and I had known one another since school, as well. He was about to return a few favors. “I have a little something I’d like you to do for me…” The next call went to Jeremy. “Who’s the best architect in town?” Jeremy was accustomed to my lack of explanation and decisions on a whim. “Residential? Commercial? Interior? Bridges over the River Seine?” “Don’t be a smart ass. Residential and with some equine familiarity.” “Care to share any more details?” he tried. “No.” “Didn’t think so. Okay, will text you when we hang up. Dexter ’s your best bet.” “You might have just redeemed yourself from kicking me out of your apartment,” I pointed out. “Worth, baby, you weren’t willing to pay the price of admission.” I chose to overlook that and hung up. The text followed momentarily. It was perfect, couldn’t have engineered it better if I’d tried. Dexter Architectural Associates Beverly Dexter, AIA, CEO Her phone number followed. “Ms. Dexter, please. Dr. Worth LaViere calling,” were the magic words that brought her instantly on the line. I arranged to meet her at the farm that afternoon. “This is confidential, Ms. Dexter,” I cautioned her. “Call me Bev,” she offered back. Jesus, but they were so easy to read. Her Cadillac pulled up behind my Porsche on the shoulder of the side road. The door opened and a tall, breathtaking woman with legs like a dancer emerged. Before closing her door, with exaggerated slow motion, she slid off her heels and replaced them with low-heeled boots. She knew what she was doing that much was clear. “Dr. LaViere,” she acknowledged me, holding out a slim, well-manicured hand. I could tell she’d never swung a hammer. This lady was purely window-dressing for her firm. She was smart. I went on high alert. I showed her the aerial map of the property as I laid it on the roof of my car, pointing to

familiarize her with the topography. “I want a house here,” I pointed, “horse barns and some assorted training facilities here, and eventually we plan to build a Steeplechase course here and some viewing stands and a few smaller outbuildings for attendees. That should have a separate entrance from the road. I want the personal portion of the estate to remain private, gated even.” I made my emphasis on the last so she knew where my concerns lay. “What style of house interests you, Dr. LaViere?” “I want the look of old Kentucky and yet the interior needs to be more modern, a blend of the two, if you will. No heavy paneling and I want windows overlooking the view from every side. Six or seven bedrooms with baths, a study — no, make that two studies. One for a woman and one for a man, adjoined by a partition door. Servant quarters for four and upstairs should include a sizeable nursery at the opposite end of the house from the master. Pool and gardens in the back as well as an outside kitchen with barbeque. Impress me, Ms. Dexter,” I used her professional name intentionally. “Cost is not an issue but accountability is.” In essence, I was telling her I wanted the best, but she’d better not pad the bill. She nodded. “I’ll walk the land where the house will sit when you leave. Time frame?” I knew she was going to balk at this. “Three months.” Her brows drew together. “Impossible.” “Then it was a pleasure meeting you, Ms. Dexter,” I said as I rolled up the aerial map. “Dr. LaViere, you’re talking about building a considerable structure, going into winter and you want to move in three months from now?” “Yes.” She looked at me and could see I was not only serious but not without the money and clout to get it accomplished elsewhere. “It’s going to cost you,” she pointed out quietly. “Special equipment, crews, overtime, working 24/7.” “Are you the firm for me?” I asked simply. I was immune to the feminine calling card she normally played. “Yes, Dr. LaViere. I will have plans at your office in forty-eight hours. You’ll need to give me authority unless you plan to sleep in the pasture while it’s built. I don’t have time to wait for an appointment.” She knew when to slide off her stockings and put on a suit. I liked that. “Done,” I agreed, then added, “But remember one thing.” I left the temporarily stymied Ms. Dexter on the side of the road and headed to Joe’s. The normal crowd was there, including McLean. I sat down next to him and offered to buy him a drink. “Nothing doing, LaViere. Tonight is on me,” he said. “You should have seen the bitch’s face when I made her sign over the title. It was worth every penny.” “When is the divorce final?” I asked. “My man says about three months. Hers is going to put up a fight, but there’s not much he can do. He’s just padding her bill.” “McLean, how would you like to be roommates for a few months?” I put to him. “How do you mean?” “I’ll have her out of there by tomorrow, luggage and perfume included and I’ll move in and take over the west wing and have kitchen privileges. I’ll have my own house in three months, at which

time, I lease the original house over to you. What do you say?” “I say I’ll leave the light on.” McLean grinned and held his drink up as toast. We clinked glasses, I upended mine and left. I had one more stop to make. I pulled into the parking lot at the office and saw, to my delight, that Jervis was still there. Without ceremony, I walked into his office. He was sitting at his desk, his back to the door and his head thrown back, breathing heavily. I knew in an instant he was jerking off. “Put it away, Jervis, we’re going to talk business.” His shoulders jerked upright. He’d been so consumed with his own hand that he hadn’t heard me come in. I heard a zipper and then he cleared his voice and turned, saying, “I was retrieving my phone. I dropped it.” “It’s on the corner of your desk, Jervis,” I said, nodding to the cell in plain sight. “So it is… my mistake. Must have been something else I heard hit the carpet.” I had to force myself not to grin at the vision that created and took the seat opposite his desk. “I’m buying you out. You’re announcing tomorrow that you’re retiring. I’ll pay you fairly and you can gather up your women and head for the islands. I want you out by the weekend.” His eyes widened and he began to stutter. “You-you’ll do… no-no such thing!” “Name your price,” I said curtly. I pictured that crooked, pathetic dick of his that undoubtedly had the appearance of a cactus leaf at the moment and could see his eyes were full of terror as his predicament sunk in. He’d lost before he was even aware he was under attack. “This is highly unethical,” he began. “My offer is dropping by the second. Name your price.” He threw out a ridiculous number and I countered with half the amount. He nodded, defeated and I left the office, fairly sure it would be some time before he found the need to jack off again. I went to my office, dialed Jeremy and said simply, “Be here Monday morning with your crew. Do what you did to my office, but this time to the entire building. Questions?” Jeremy loved me when I was at my most decisive. “None.” I hung up and realized the power of money, connections, and blackmail — in that order.

CHAPTER TWENTY Worth A s the machinery I’d put into motion began to produce results, my world became chaos. Auggie texted and I responded lovingly, but in a detached mode. She realized something was up, but I threw her off the scent for the moment by urging her to conclude her business with Knotts in getting the foundation established. She took this as my personal interest in her welfare, and while it was true that I wanted her to succeed, for the moment I needed her to simply be out of my way. I could accommodate all the projects I had going, but I couldn’t afford Auggie’s interference. I’d leave her enough decisions to keep her happy, but she was better placed to exercise her whim with the foundation rather than overseeing the initiation of the house and the construction needed at the clinic. This was my way of taking charge and drawing lines in the sand. I knew she would resent it. I hoped I could live with it. I knew eventually, especially once we had children, she’d have her hands full with the things she loved to do. I just needed to make those possible and to do it in a way that I could still control what happened. I saw myself as the toll booth on her highway to Auggie’s World. I was staying at Father ’s farm and leaving early enough to avoid him as his hangovers wore off. This morning, however, he anticipated this and must have suffered the shakes all night in order to be sober enough to confront me. “Worth, I want to talk to you.” It was a royal order, not a request. “Good morning, Father. You’re up early.” He ignored my bait and took a deep sip of strong coffee as his hand shook somewhat. “I’ve been hearing things about you and I’m not entirely happy,” he began. “I’m sorry, Father, but I earned the title of black sheep a long time ago and thought that had taken some of the pressure off your expectations.” “Worth…” he warned, his voice growling. “Father, let’s dispense with the subterfuge, shall we? I know I’m the eldest and your namesake, but Linc was always your favorite. He was athletic, smart, went by the rules. He did everything you wanted him to. He made you proud. I don’t. It’s that simple. I know there isn’t a day that goes by that you don’t wish it had been me under that car and not him.” It took him a second too long to meet my eyes. “Not true, Worth. I’m proud of you.” “Father, the time for bullshit has passed. Don’t pander to me. I’m a man on my own now and like it or not, this is who I’ve turned out to be. It might be better for both of us, not to mention Mother, if you just accept that and leave me alone. I won’t embarrass you, but I have my own way of doing things.” “Just because you’ve finally gotten access to your grandfather ’s trust doesn’t give you any call to speak to me that way.” I looked at him and imagined that I would look like him some day. Perhaps I would have. Perhaps I would have been shaking in the glare of morning sunlight, my eyes bloodshot and my voice a fraction of the volume it once generated. He was aging and I was seeing myself as I would be in thirty years. I didn’t like it, not one bit. Auggie would change all that for me. I was certain

of it. “No, sir, it does not. But what it does do is take me out from beneath your heavy thumb and all the judgment that comes with it.” He sat back in his chair, sizing me up. He had finally arrived at the realization that he’d lost control and he was mentally maneuvering for his best advantage. I let him, it kept him busy. “What’s this I hear you’re seeing the Langford girl?” he began. Jesus, as if I didn’t know where that had come from. I had it figured out the moment Auggie had told me of the picture. “Father, do you seriously want to go there? Old secrets? Indiscretions? You want it public that you shared her with Jervis, for Christ’s sake?” I thought he was having a heart attack. His face grew red and mottled and his breathing became staggered. Fury set in on his features. He was not a man who was often called to task. I knew I had him exactly where I wanted him. “You keep your nose out of what doesn’t concern you, young man,” he threatened. “Or what? You’ll disinherit me? I don’t need your money. You’ll tell Mother? I dare say the revelations will be more devastating for your team, than mine. You’ll keep me from Auggie? I’m over twenty-one, Father, and so is she. If you do anything at all, you’ll force my hand. Your time is done, old man. I’m running my own show now.” I could hardly believe the words that came spilling out of my mouth. I had never dared to speak to him that way, and he was reeling from the impact. “Oh, by the way…” I said as I turned to leave the house, perhaps for the last time. “I’m moving out. Someone will come to collect my things, so you needn’t lock me out like you did when I was twelve and ran away from home to keep you from horsewhipping me. Oh, and Jervis…he’s out. He’ll be announcing his retirement today and I’m taking over the clinic.” “You won’t get away with this high-handedness, Worth,” he threatened again. “I already have. I learned from the best.” *** Right on cue, Jervis called a meeting of the staff and announced he’d be retiring, effective immediately and that I would be buying the practice. Worried faces looked toward me, but I nodded in reassurance. “You’ll all be staying on,” I said and then my face went back into business mode. I knew the staff was used to getting away with more with Jervis as captain. They knew I was no-nonsense and I fully expected several resignation letters on my desk by the end of the day. That would be fine. I was going to remake this practice into something that had never been done before. As a matter of fact, I’d gotten the idea from Auggie. Jeremy checked in and we closeted ourselves in my office to draw up the plans. Aside from relocating some internal walls, and then the complete updating of the décor, there was little for him to do. I would handle the rest. I called a sign company and arranged for the clinic to now be called “LaViere Clinic.” It was yet another tribute to the new concept I was putting in place. Finally, the architect showed up and we went over the plans for the property. I told her I would have ultimate approval over everything but that in the meantime, she should contact Auggie for details. She nodded, a bit confused. “Let me spell it out for you, Ms. Dexter. Let her pick out the carpet and wall colors and such frippery but when it comes to any major decisions, you are to confer with me directly. Is that understood?” She nodded and when she left, I phoned Auggie.

“Hello, baby,” I began, and I knew this instantly put her on alert as I wasn’t exactly given to using terms of endearment. “What’s going on? I’ve hardly heard from you.” “Actually, quite a bit, really. I’m on my way over to pick you up because I have so much to tell you. You available?” “Please… rescue me, yes. Mother is on a rampage over something and I can hear her shrieking your name throughout the house. I don’t know what you’ve done, but I think I’d better go. I’ll be watching for you from the window. Don’t bother coming to the door, just wait at the end of the drive. The mood Mother is in, she’s liable to shoot you.” I chuckled as I grabbed my keys and headed out the door. No one asked where I was going or when I would be back. I knew to let the dust settle and then come in and clean up. Everything I’d been planning was now coming about. True to her word, Auggie met me at the end of the drive. We drove back to town and found a quiet little coffee house where no one was likely to know us. Settled at the table with coffee and cake, I began to open the door to her new world and let her look inside. “So, what on earth have you been up to?” she asked. “Well, first, let me ask how it’s going with the foundation?” I pre-empted her. She cocked her head and looked at me oddly. She knew my tactics well enough by now but decided to let me do it my way. “It’s fine,” she began. “Actually, it’s moving quite quickly. Brandon has the paperwork filed and we’ve already been granted tax-exempt status.” “He does work fast,” I commented and she looked at me to decide how I meant that. I let her wonder. “We’ve taken the liberty of checking out the adjoining property and Brandon is making inquiries if the owners are interested in selling. We have to raise funds, of course, before we can begin making offers.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out my checkbook. While she looked on, I wrote a check for one hundred thousand dollars and handed it to her. She looked at me, puzzled. “Let me be the first to contribute, I pushed the check toward her. “Okay,” she said, tears glistening. “What have you gone and done? That’s guilt money if I’ve ever seen it.” “Nothing. I’ve done nothing but make plans for our future,” I assured her. “Take it. It’s yours and you have my blessing to begin collecting all you can and getting your dream launched.” She just stared at me. “You don’t trust me,” I summed it up. “Nope.” I pretended to be hurt, but couldn’t authentically claim it because I acknowledged that maybe I had been just the slightest bit progressive in my plans without consulting her. I knew how to handle this. “Okay, now here’s what I’ve been up to.” The order in which I presented things was critical to her not being angry. “I went back to the office the other night and caught Jervis doing something that does not belong in a professional environment.”

“Really? What?” I had her full attention. “Well, I’m more or less bound to keep it quiet, but let’s just say a gentleman usually does not engage in such things without a lady present.” Her eyes were huge and I knew I had her in my corner already. “We had a bit of a quarrel and I told him it was him or me. I offered to buy him out on the spot and he went for it. I guess his petting zoo was more important, shall we say?” Auggie’s eyes were huge and her mouth open in an ‘o.’ “Then you can’t afford to give me this,” she said, pushing the check back across the table. “Of course I can. I’m hardly a pauper, my dear. I’ve also come into my trust and now that Jervis is out of the way, I’m going to convert the clinic, which is another way I need your help.” “I’m all ears,” she said, smiling. “Well, sip your coffee and listen. I realized that Jervis’ way of doing things was old school and as you and I discussed, many people leave just as broken, or in some cases, even more so than when they walked in the door. Some things you said and have been planning for Sunset Village got me to thinking. I want to augment my practice with additional means of healing.” “Go on,” she said, her eyes alight. She took the fact that I’d listened to her as flattery, and yes, it was meant as such, but it was also good business. “Well, in addition to psychological therapy, I want to include some more holistic services such as acupuncture, a few of the more helpful exercise therapies, a room lined with pink salt from Himalaya, saunas, hot tubs, massage, aromatherapy, activities for children including daycare while their parent is taking part in a therapy. I also want couples’ counseling and from time to time, sex therapy.” I wiggled my eyebrows at the last one. She didn’t wiggle hers back. “Sex therapy?” “Yes, I know you don’t like the way that sounds, but there’s a great deal of diagnostic data to prove that when a person’s sex life is healthy and rewarding, many of their mental health issues improve as well. It’s all very scientific so you needn’t worry, but I’ve studied this and it will be handled very clinically.” “Worth, I don’t know what to say… it sounds fascinating!” Her green eyes were like sparkling waves and the deep green sweater she wore only emphasized this. I felt my groin ache and knew I’d been without her too long. But my revelations were not yet complete and now that I had her excited, she would take the remaining news in a more positive fashion. “Well, there’s more,” I began and her brows raised in question. “I’ve moved out of my Father ’s farm, and McLean and I are going to share the current house at our place for three months.” “What happens in three months?” She was curious, as was to be expected. “McLean’s divorce will be concluded and I will be leasing that house back to him for a dollar a month. In return, he’s going to look after the place and help you with the horses as you acquire them.” Auggie leaned forward, shuffling in her seat. “But, Worth… I don’t have the horses yet… only Carlos. There’s nowhere to keep them. Why would I need his help?” “That’s the next part of my surprise,” I said and kept going lest she let questions begin to sink in. “I’ve hired an architectural firm and they’ve presented me with a preliminary set of plans. I’ve told them you’re in charge of the details and they’re to have the entire house and barns constructed and ready to move in within three months. I figure that should put you at the Keeneland sales next spring to begin your choosing.” I sat back to await the explosion.

Her head bobbed forward at the same time her shoulders jerked backwards. “Wow. That’s a lot to take in, Worth. Why didn’t you tell me all this was going on?” I was ready for this one. “I knew you had your hands full getting the foundation launched and I’ve only laid the groundwork. I will need you to handle it from here. I’ll be busy with the remodel and marketing for the clinic. I’ll have to hire new staff and buy equipment. I was hoping I could leave the house and barns up to you.” She took the bait and I felt relief in the pit of my stomach. “Who’s the firm?” “Dexter Architectural Associates” I handed her their card. “You can deal with Beverly Dexter. I thought you might prefer to deal with the CEO.” I made the fact that she was an attractive woman completely incidental and the fact that I was giving her access to the head of the firm the more important fact to absorb. “So, Auggie,” I began tentatively, “can you help me, honey? Can you handle all that while I see to the clinic?” She sat back as it all began to sink in. She’d gone from sitting on her princess bed contemplating her wardrobe to supervising two major construction processes and she had carte blanche on both of them. She let the importance of her power sink in before nodding enthusiastically. She responded exactly the way I’d hoped. I knew her button was being supervised and treated like a child. I had managed to lay the critical groundwork and then hand the details off to her. She was happy, which meant that ultimately I would be happy. I tapped the card. “She’s waiting for your call. Naturally, she’ll need a great deal of leeway to accomplish all this by the deadline I’ve set, but I know you can keep her in line and supervised.” Auggie’s head hadn’t stopped nodding and a smile of authority was on her beautiful face. I really hated to manipulate her like this, but I had no choice. Auggie was the sort of woman who, when harnessed, could easily pull her share of the weight. If crossed, she would be hell to deal with and I preferred the passion of the former to the misery of the latter. It was a gamble, but it paid off. I hoped. It wasn’t over, though. “So, why is Mother screaming your name with curses all over the house? What on earth did you do to her?” “I have no idea, honey.” The lie tasted sour. “I’m guessing maybe she thought she had a puppet in Jervis and now he’s leaving. A little mudslide in her kingdom of power, perhaps?” Auggie bought this, her eyes dropping to her twisting fingers. “I’m sure that’s it. She doesn’t like anyone to upset her power equilibrium. God only knows what she holds over Jervis, but whatever it is, it’s going to waste now.” She grabbed both my hands and kissed my fingers over the table. “Worth, I’m so proud of you. I had no idea all this was going on in the back of your head. I can’t wait to get started!” Then her eyes darkened for a moment and she asked me in a softer voice, “Worth… all this is a lot to hand over to me. Do you honestly believe in me enough to handle it or are you trying to keep me busy while you do something more important?” I felt the rock drop into the pit of my stomach. Everything in our future depended on my next few words. “Of course you can handle it, Auggie. Do you think I’d put the bulk of my inheritance into your hands if I didn’t think you capable?” That seemed to satisfy her as she smiled with assurance and then whispered in my ear. We left the café and found a room at the Hilton. The ache in my groin was quickly erased as Auggie found new uses for her mouth and fingers. I laid back against the pillows and watched her face as she took my

cock into her mouth. Her breasts brushed my thighs, and her hair fell forward. It formed a curtain I longed to part so I could watch every movement. Her mouth was hot, tight. Her teeth scraped over my sensitive flesh. I arched into her as she cupped my balls. “Stop,” I breathed. “Not yet. Don’t want to come yet.” She lifted her head and smiled, a sexy curve lifting her lips. When her tongue flicked out and stroked up my length, I nearly exploded. Eyes gleaming, she climbed up my body as a predator would stalk her prey. Taking the condom from my hand, she turned to roll it on. My fingers found her breasts and she moaned as I pinched her nipples. Fascinated, I pinched them again. I wanted to taste her. Devour her. Take and give to her. Feast on her body and let her feast on mine. “Give me your hands,” she whispered, and I held them out, ready to give her anything. She held them like reins as she hovered over me, taking her time. Then I felt her, felt everything as her body lowered and consumed my cock an inch at a time. So wet. So tight. It took all my control not to come immediately. She smiled down at me and began to move. Up and down she rode me, our fingers grasping, our eyes connected as we raced toward the edge. I loved this woman. Cherished her. Needed her like my lungs needed air. She was my greatest blessing. She cried out as she came, her body spasming over and around me. But she didn’t stop. She rode on, her hips frantically rocking back and forth. I was close. So close. My balls tightened, begged for release. I waited, watching her beautiful face as another orgasm built within her. When she came, I turned us, flipping her on her back. Her legs wound around me as her arms circled my neck. “Love you,” I growled as I plunged in deep over and over. Then I was there. My body tightened, pulse pounding, vision growing dark around the edges as semen raced from me and into her. I collapsed onto her, then lifted on an elbow to release her from my crushing weight. But she pulled me back down, her lips on mine, our bodies connected. “I love you, too,” she whispered against my lips as I rolled us onto our sides. Her breath was warm on my face as she kissed me. And I kissed her. And I counted my blessings for this woman. There, holding the woman I adored in my arms, I thought I had the world under control. I’ve never been more wrong in my entire life.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE Auggie I floated home that morning, having left a rumpled but empty bed as Worth left for work. I lounged a bit and sipped coffee and juice, making notes on my phone regarding what had to be done next. I called the architect. She agreed to meet me for lunch and I quickly scooted home for a shower and a change. Beverly Dexter was prompt and even as she approached, I was struck by her beauty. She moved like a gazelle, long-legged and rhythmic and my instincts were immediately on fire. We shook hands and I invited her to sit down. “How long have you known Worth?” was the first question out of my mouth. She seemed a little suspicious by my question but then apparently decided she would be dealing with me from now on so she may as well form a good relationship. “He only called me last week. Are you two an item?” she asked, taking me by surprise. It peeved me that she should begin questioning me before she’d even shown me the plans. I just looked at her, and she must have gotten the message because she opened a tube and rolled out blueprint paper across the table. “He’s very good-looking, you know,” she began. “I could get close to that very easily.” Was she freakin’ insane? She had a huge customer in Worth and even if she was as stupid as she was beautiful, she had to pick up on the fact that Worth was turning things over to me. Therefore, I must be involved with him and wouldn’t like her intimate remarks. “You’re his secretary, right?” she suggested boldly. I was so astounded at her behavior, I decided to let her dig her own grave. I nodded. She looked relieved. “Oh, lucky girl. Wish I were in your shoes… well, actually I’d rather be in his bed,” she gushed, brushing her hair back from her forehead. “What’s his type?” This was going to be fun. “Oh, I really couldn’t say but most of the women I’ve seen him with are tall, dark-haired, long legs… actually a lot like you now that I think of it,” I baited her. “Really?” she gushed, her fingers now stroking her bottom lip. “Where does he like to hang out? I mean… where could I sort of accidentally run into him?” In hell, maybe? “Hmmm… well, he’s moving into the first farmhouse on the property where you’re building. In fact, he should be doing some of that tonight. You can find him there. Also, I believe he takes most of his dates to the Hilton so maybe the bar there, not really sure.” I leaned forward and lowered my voice. One girl telling a secret to another. “I’d appreciate if you didn’t mention where you got that information. I’d lose my job for sure and he might fire you as well.” “Oh, I won’t. He won’t fire me, though… there’s too much at stake.” “Oh, really, why is that?” I was interested in what she knew.

“Well, he’s on such a tight time frame and all,” she explained. “There’s no one else in town who could pull this off but me. I’m calling in all my favors to get it done especially this time of year with the holidays coming.” She was very sure of herself. What was the line about the bigger they are, the harder they fall? I decided to jerk her chain a bit. “So, Ms. Dexter, since I’m in charge here, perhaps it would be a good idea if we got down to business and let me approve some plans,” I suggested. “Oh, I see. Well, you’re welcomed to look at things, but I’m not supposed to let you actually decide on anything except… how did he put it… ‘fripperies?’” I felt myself go cold. “How do you mean that exactly… just so I understand which part of the process I’m responsible for.” “Dr. LaViere said he was to have the ultimate power of decision over all the construction details. I have the power of making decisions on his behalf on site and you are supposed to be consulted for the little things I’m guessing like drapes, wall colors, where to hang mirrors — that sort of mundane detail.” “I see,” I said, forcing my teeth to stop grinding. “What did you call it… fripperies?” “Yes, I think that’s the term he used. I don’t think he wanted to overwhelm you and I’m guessing he’s leaving most of the decision making up to whomever he eventually marries. So, I thought we’d keep the house as vanilla as possible and then whoever she is…” she giggled as her eyes glazed over in desire, “can put her own personal sense of style on the place.” I nodded. “That makes total sense.” “Now about the barns,” she continued and I wondered how someone so dumb had gotten this far in business. “I have some equine experience but I know that the appropriate facility is better designed if you know what kind of horses he’ll be keeping. I guess I should consult with Mr. McLean on that?” “Mr. McLean? Oh, the man he bought the farm from. Is that what he told you?” I was setting the trip wire. “Well, not in so many words, but he indicated that Mr. McLean would be responsible for the horses over the longer term so I assumed he would be the best person to ask.” “Yes, I suppose you should do just that, Ms. Dexter,” I agreed and she sighed with satisfaction. I could see her already picking out an engagement ring and the heavy class ring I wore on my neck chain was burning a brand into the tender skin of my tummy. “Well, let’s get on with the decision making, shall we?” I encouraged her. “Oh, of course. Now, let’s see. He requested a traditional Kentucky-style home on the exterior with a modern, more open concept look on the inside,” she began. “Oh, nooo, no, no,” I jumped in quickly. “You must have misunderstood entirely. “I swear, he has so much on his plate that sometimes he says things almost backward. He wants a Kentucky-style house, for sure, but inside and out. He wants every room to be paneled in cherry with pocket doors between the rooms so they can be closed off for private conversations. He’s a businessman, you understand.” She looked confused, but nodded and she paged through her notes again. “And as for the exterior, he will want as few windows as possible. He hates the glare from the sun and loves dark shadows and deep, deep colors of interior paint. Nothing but plaid carpeting throughout. Two bedrooms, one bath. The kitchen should be smaller… hmmm… more like a

kitchenette with huge cupboards that reach from ceiling to floor. Now, in the basement, he wants a cat room. This is to be absolutely the largest room in the house. The walls should be lined with carpeting so the little guys can use their claws to climb wherever they want. There should be all sorts of little ladders and platforms installed so they can jump around and have fun. He probably has fifty cats… did he tell you that?” I waited for her reaction. “Oh, really? Are you sure? He said just about the opposite to me.” Even idiocy did not mar her beautiful features. “You must have misunderstood him. You probably thought you were hearing what he didn’t want, when in fact he was telling you exactly what he does want.” “I’m not sure about this,” she sounded very confused. “He was quite adamant.” “Look, I’ve worked for Dr. LaViere for some time now. I think I’ve heard him talk about his dream house a hundred times. Are you really willing to risk his disapproval by giving him exactly what he doesn’t want and not include a single feature of what he does want?” I leaned even closer. “I leave it to you to decide.” As her face went through a flurry of emotions, I settled back in my chair, my pencil tapping on the tabletop in a rhythm to distract her and make her even more uncomfortable and indecisive than she currently was. “No, I completely believe you,” she said finally. “I just can’t believe I heard him so wrong.” I patted her hand. “Well, you did mention how handsome he is,” I reminded her. “It could have distracted you from whether he was saying he wanted or didn’t want everything he was talking about.” She nodded, biting her lip. “Oh, one more thing,” I ventured, forcing my face to stay carefully blank. “He did tell you he’s going to be out of the country for the next three months and you’re not to start construction until he returns, right?” “Oh, now, no… that’s wrong. He wants to move in three months from now. We even talked about the extra hours and workmen it would take. I’ve already got crews on assignment. In fact, we were going to start today after you and I had our meeting.” She sat up straight, her head shaking in denial. “Oh, dear…” I murmured and clucked my tongue. “He’s done it again.” “What’s that?” she asked, concerned. “Well, promise not to let him know I said this?” She nodded in a conspiratorial gesture. “He’s dead broke.” “What?” I seriously thought she might faint. “Yes, yes… his father has disinherited him. He was to come into millions but they had a falling out and as a result, he was kicked off his father ’s farm. He’s living with a decorator friend of his right now. It’s just awful. In fact, he was to buy the practice from his partner and now that’s all fallen through. I wouldn’t doubt that his partner will kick him out as well. He’s very tight with the senior Mr. LaViere. I’m afraid Worth is literally ruined.” I leaned forward, lowering my voice until it was nearly a whisper. “He probably told you to speed up so he’d have somewhere to go soon, but he will figure out some way to delay paying you. He’ll claim something is wrong, some wall is crooked or you put a window in the wrong place. I’ve seen him do it before… making a fuss over details until the contractor just walked away for fear of losing referral business from the senior Mr. LaViere.”

“Oh my God!” she cried out, alarmed completely. “I had no idea. I just assumed… well, you know… he is a LaViere, after all.” Her voice had morphed into a whine. “You wouldn’t be the first to fall for his lines, I’m afraid. In fact, I’ve had to be on my own guard all these years. Why do you suppose he still lived at home with his parents? He’s a total failure. No money, no patients, his reputation is ruined.” I grabbed her arm, digging my fingers in until I was sure I had her full attention. When her glazed eyes turned back to me, I went on. “Now, remember… don’t tell him you heard this from me. I can’t help you if he thinks I’ve ratted him out. The best I can do right now is to get the contract you signed with him and sneak it out of the building at night so you can destroy it. Then, if I were you, I’d completely disavow knowing him in any way. Pretend you never met him. Did anyone see you meet him?” I asked, pretending great concern. “No, I don’t think so,” she sighed with relief, tears gleaming in her eyes. I stomped down a wave of guilt. “I can’t thank you enough. This could have ruined my firm and my entire reputation I’ve worked so hard to build. Here, at least let me get the lunch. You’ve done so much for me. Woman to woman… I can’t thank you enough.” “That’s quite all right — let’s just say we women stick together. Now, I’ll find that contract and either destroy it personally or get it to you. Deal?” “Thank you again, so much, Ms. Langford. I’m quite indebted to you. If there was any way I could repay you…” “Oh, that’s just fine.” I soothed, then kicked immediately into Part Two of my plan. “Oh, my goodness! I just realized!” “What?” her eyes held alarm. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before this. It just so happens I’m going to be hiring an architect myself. I have a charitable foundation with a new project at Sunset Village. All the best families are donating and it could really be quite a plum for the right firm to do the design work. But…” I slumped back into my chair, a sad look on my face, “then, we’re just starting out and there’s no way I could afford your fees, I’m afraid. Forget I said anything.” I began packing up my paper, pencil, and purse. Beverly Dexter ’s hand covered mine, stopping me from completing my task. “Ms. Langford, please. Would you allow me to donate my services? After all, you quite possibly saved me from ruin this afternoon. And… I happen to have crews on standby. I would only be too happy to donate everything I can do to help your worthy cause. Perhaps you could tell a few of the other patrons of my involvement and in that way, one hand covers the other, so to speak?” I beamed. “Oh, Ms. Dexter, would you? I can’t imagine how generous that would be! The residents will be absolutely thrilled to be living in a property in which you had a hand. You are well-known for your creative insight and innovation. I just don’t know what to say,” I gushed all over her, even managed to produce a tear. “Please… say no more. Just tell me who to talk to and we’ll get started this very afternoon.” “I just don’t know how to thank you. Here’s my attorney’s card. Just tell him I sent you. I’ll fill him in on the details before you call him. Just give me a half hour.” I smiled and stood to hug her. “I just can’t thank you enough!” “Say no more,” she gushed. “I’ve got lunch and I’m headed back to the office to talk to my crews and call your Mr. Knotts. I’ll be in touch with him this afternoon.” “Oh, and Ms. Dexter?” I said as she was leaving.

“Yes?” “I just wanted to tell you, and I hope it doesn’t embarrass you… but when you walked in I was struck by how beautiful you are. You have such a sense of style. May I ask where you bought your dress?” “Oh… I bought it in New York, Ms. Langford. I’m sorry…” “No problem. Have a wonderful afternoon and thank you again.” She got no further than the door when I dialed Brandon and filled him in on the fact that the famous Ms. Dexter was calling him to begin architectural drawings. I knew this would go a long way toward getting the projects completed and still comply with the administrator ’s concerns about excess noise and construction debris. “Don’t talk about Worth or me, Brandon. Not one word. Just deal with her. She’s donating all her services and she’s ready to get started today.” “How in the hell did you pull that off?” Brandon asked, utterly amazed. “Good thing I already applied and received the permits.” “It was Worth who made it possible,” I said dryly and hung up. I quietly sat and sipped my iced tea, watching the minutes flip by on my iPhone. I gave her ten and she beat me by one. My phone rang… and it was Worth. “Hello?” I answered sweetly. “Elizabeth Augusta…” was as far as he got before I hung up the phone, finished my tea and went shopping.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO Auggie The conference room was full. Brandon sat at the head of the table and Dad sat at the other end. Beverly Dexter, a few of Dad’s friends and some people Brandon had invited were also there, including the administrator from Sunset Village. I sat to Dad’s right. Architectural drawings covered the table as well as various sheaths of paperwork which were being circulated for the appropriate signatures. Everyone there, it seemed, had an ulterior motive for their participation, but the end result was that things were moving rapidly forward. Brandon’s eyes were on me. He suspected Worth and I had a falling out and when the beauteous Ms. Dexter showed up in his office, he figured he knew the reason why. Beverly Dexter, fresh from her life-saving warning from me, owed me a certain amount of loyalty but she also was there to court some clients from Dad’s friends. Much to her delight, she discovered that Brandon was single as well and knew that his family was well-received and he could be considered quite a catch. It was like Christmas for her. Dad was there to get away from Mother and to support me, just as he’d promised. The administrator from Sunset Village was amazed that someone would make it their mission to improve his property, and therefore his vacancy rate. The rest of Dad’s friends all had mothers or fathers in the age range where they were becoming caretakers and having an investment in Sunset Village could mean a solution to the vast commitment and interruption about to impede their lives. Therefore, I learned that no matter the reason, people must have some stake in order to participate. Worth had been neither notified nor invited. His check still sat in my purse and I was debating whether to turn it in. If I did, it meant he would have a seat on this board and in the decision making, and that sting had not yet worn off for me. I hadn’t spoken to him since the meeting with Ms. Dexter. I either refused his calls or texts and didn’t answer the door when he came to call. Dad and Mother had respectfully looked the other way and that left Worth standing outside the door like a foundling. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could do it, but he had to know that he couldn’t treat me like that and get away with it. The question was… how far could I push him? We had managed to put offers on the parcels of land all around Sunset Village. I hoped that when Dad’s friends left today, their donations would allow the actual purchase. We had architectural designs to show how the additions could be added without impacting the existing structure and how the entire plan with stables and other external buildings could be integrated into an interesting and accessible way. Ms. Dexter ’s knowledge and expertise, luckily, had come in extremely handy. I kept my fingers crossed that she wouldn’t learn the truth of my lies until our project was completed. When the meeting concluded, we parted with more than a half million dollars in our coffer, promises of more participation, an approved plan and the intent to break ground the very next day. I was on top of the world… until, that is, I thought about Worth and his betrayal of me. I sighed. And my betrayal of him.

It was my job to organize fundraisers and I thought the first one could be a bachelor auction. I had tons of friends from school, many of whom were considered excellent catches. We would hold it at the Galt House and their dates would be as exotic as the bachelor was willing to sponsor. I had been making calls and already had twenty bachelors lined up. A call to the local radio station garnered me an emcee for the evening and the Galt House was glad to donate the use of one of their ballrooms for the event. Word spread quickly and I expected almost a hundred eligible young ladies to show up. “Thank you for agreeing to be one of the bachelors, Brandon,” I told him over the phone when he called to discuss foundation business. “I know you’ll bring in a pretty penny.” “Really? How much are you willing to pay for me?” he teased, but somehow I knew he wasn’t really teasing. “What’s up with ol’ LaViere, by the way. I haven’t heard you mention him and not seen him around. You two have a falling out?” “Let’s stick to foundation business for now, Brandon, could we? I don’t know where we stand and right now, I’m taking a hiatus. Listen, I’ve got more calls to make. Catch you later!” I hung up quickly before he asked any more invasive questions. My next call would be a surprise, I was sure. “Todd? This is Auggie,” I said to my police officer friend. “Auggie? Wow! I never expected to hear from you. What’s up?” “We’re having a bachelor auction to raise funds for the Sunset Village Foundation,” I began. “Oh, yeah, I heard that being talked about. People are saying you’ve bitten off quite a chunk, but it’s for a good cause. How can I help?” “I was hoping you might agree to be one of the eligible bachelors. Wear your uniform and all that? Would you, Todd?” He laughed, a quick barking sound. “Auggie, how much do you think I could bring? You’ve got some big names lined up from what I hear. Isn’t your boyfriend, the great Dr. LaViere, on the auction block?” “No, he isn’t. Todd, there are a ton of girls who would love to go out with you. Please help? It’s for a good cause,” I cajoled him. “Never could resist your pleas, Auggie. Okay, for you I will do it. But let’s get back to LaViere… are you two not an item anymore?” “It’s complicated, Todd. I’ll have a packet sent to you and really appreciate your participation. I’ll look forward to seeing you there that night.” I finished the conversation equally quickly and hung up. Worth had already put me in the gossip columns and I didn’t appreciate that in the least. *** The night of the bachelor auction came around and I’d spent the entire day at the Galt House, checking details and making sure everything was set up properly. Judging by the number of women in the lobby and waiting outside, I knew this was going to be highly successful and my goal was to raise another hundred thousand dollars or more. Curtain time came and the emcee was his usual charming self. Everyone began with playful bids on the lesser known individuals, local businessmen, college athletes, even a couple of jockeys. Todd had good-naturedly shown up and brought a couple of his officer friends with him. They went over a

lot better than any of us expected, which just goes to prove the adage about a man in a uniform. Then came the moneyed set and here the stakes went up. Some of the biggest names in the state had young male studs who were available and there was no shortage of fillies willing to bid upon them. I waited until Brandon came on the stage and just to get things going, I started the bidding myself at a thousand dollars. This drew some raised eyebrows and a babble of other females began throwing numbers at him. He was blushing, obviously embarrassed and continued to throw me hinting looks to bail him out. The bid was up to four thousand dollars when suddenly, amidst the havoc, a male voice rang out clearly above the audience. “A hundred thousand dollars,” called out the voice and I turned to see Worth standing tall and heads above the rest of the crowd at the back of the room. There was a hush and the emcee said, “Thank you, Dr. LaViere, I’m not sure we’ll have a bid higher than that — but sir, surely you don’t intend to go on a date with Mr. Knotts yourself?” This statement brought a titter through the crowd. “No, indeed. I believe Ms. Langford has my check already in her possession and I’m bidding on her behalf. Ms. Langford?” Worth was looking directly at me. I thought I would melt into the floor I was so embarrassed. I looked toward the emcee and saw the plea on Brandon’s face. He did not want to become a scandal. I had no choice. “Yes, Dr. LaViere arranged to donate the sizeable amount of one hundred thousand and asked that it be a surrogate bid for me on Mr. Knotts. There was a general groan from the remaining ladies as none of them could come close to that amount. The rumble of disappointment followed them as they left the auction. The emcee struck the gavel and the auction was over. My fiancé had just bought me a date with his arch nemesis and I wasn’t entirely certain whether I was in favor of it or not. I turned to catch up to Worth and only caught the back of his head just going down the stairway to leave the building. I trotted quickly in his direction and finally caught up to him just outdoors. “Worth!” I shouted. He stopped and turned, a sardonic look on his face. “Well, if it isn’t Ms. Langford. Hello, Auggie… ruin anyone’s future lately?” “You’re coming with me,” I said, running up to him and tugging on his sleeve. “Oh, and just where are we going?” he asked. “Don’t you have a date to set up inside?” “Forget that and come have a glass of wine or something with me.” “Well, now, I don’t know. I was just headed to Joe’s,” he put in, kicking the sidewalk with the toe of his shoe. “Joe’s? I can’t go in there, you know that.” “Exactly.” “Not funny, Worth. Come into the bar here and let’s talk.” “That’s odd, Ms. Langford. You’ve been gone several days, a couple of weeks, in fact, without speaking to me at all. Not only that, I seem to have lost an architect and that’s left me in quite a lurch. Wonder how that happened?” His scowl darkened. “I’m residing with a Mr. McLean who expects me to vacate in less than three months and I have no idea how I will do that. Would you like to talk about that, Ms. Langford?” I dragged him by the sleeve in the direction of the bar. “Stop your bullshit and let’s talk this out,” I told him, feeling the anger rising in my throat again. He was mad? Well, so was I. And he needed to learn early in our relationship what I would and wouldn’t tolerate.

He said no more. I suppose he had tortured me enough by that point. We got drinks and settled at a quiet table in the furthest corner. Brandon walked into the bar and looked in my direction. I shook my head at him and he looked disappointed. I can’t say I blamed him as he was the prize steer at the auction and wanted to celebrate a bit — even if it was under odd circumstances. “Well, what have you to say for yourself, Auggie?” Worth wanted to know. He obviously hadn’t caught my exchange with Brandon. “Why did you give me the song and dance about needing my expertise and sense of responsibility and then undermine me to that woman… telling her I was responsible only for the… the ‘fripperies’ did you call it?” He rolled his eyes to the heavens. “Auggie, you don’t understand.” “Then why not explain it to me, Worth? Tell me why I thought you had my back and then you flushed me down the toilet.” I was fuming again and aware that my voice had risen and people were beginning to look at us. Coupled with the fact that Worth had just spent a hundred grand renting me a date for the night was bound to be the topic of gossip over many a breakfast table the next morning. “Look, Auggie, the woman is brilliant at what she does. Not only that, she has the connections and the crews to get our house done on schedule. We needed her. So, I had to charm her into accomplishing the impossible. She was flirting with me and rather than flirt back, which I knew you’d have a fit over, I decided to throw a challenge her way. If she thought you and I were an item, I couldn’t get her to pander to my needs if she thought it was a lost cause. You see now?” He seemed quite satisfied with his own explanation, not seeing the ethical downside of what he’d done. “Worth, first of all, the only person you are to be pandering to, is me. I’m to be your wife, damn it! That is, if we’re still on.” “Of course,” he said tersely, as if there had never been a question about that fact. I exhaled the breath I’d been holding. “Secondly, you have to stop manipulating people. It doesn’t work like that. I told you to stop it before, that it would come back to bite you because you’re not as good at it as you think you are. I believe I proved that little fact to you over this whole mess. Third, I’d like to know why a project that was to be decided by you and me, together, has suddenly turned into Worth’s project that Auggie is supposed to take second seat to. What else am I to be left out of? Do you think I have nothing to contribute?” “Auggie, that’s not true. There are just certain situations that call for techniques, shall we call them, that may not be all out on the table. It’s business and that’s something I learned well from my father. The point is, we’re hoping for the impossible, and she’s the only woman capable of delivering it.” He sat back, convinced that his rationale was the only one that made sense and that I should see the sense in his words immediately. He was wrong… so, so wrong. “Worth, we’re going to start over. You’re going to tell me, right here and now, which of the oars in this boat are to be my responsibility. Now and for the next eighty years. If you’re lucky enough to have me agree to them, which means that we’re still going to get married, then you cannot deviate from them… ever… at all. I’m a team player but I have equal say. Do we understand one another?” There really was nothing he could find fault with in what I was saying. He had to admit that I had a point and my requests were only fair. Just because it didn’t fall in line with his power-hungry play on the world didn’t mean he couldn’t concede, at least to me. He decided, wisely enough for him, to let me make my point. “Okay, Auggie, in this case, you’re right. I should not have overlooked your contributions or undermined your responsibilities. I should not have approached the architect without you at my side,

but we had agreed to keep things quiet for now so that was hardly possible.” “Agreed,” I contributed. “I will not do it again, but you have to stop this high-handed willfulness of yours. I can’t always be wondering whether you’re pissed at something I’ve said or done and are taking it out on me with a dagger in my back.” He was a bit out of breath and I could hear his thoughts were very complete, if not even a bit rehearsed. “Very well,” I nodded. “Let’s agree from now on that we keep nothing back from one another. We are stronger together than if pitted against one another. God knows, we’re going to need to be strong when Mother finds out about this.” “You have yet to meet my father.” Worth grinned sardonically. “What would your father have against me?” I asked, puzzled. “Primarily, that you weren’t his idea. Add to that the facts that I moved out without his permission, bought out the clinic and got rid of one of his cronies, but most of all, that he’s getting older and losing his touch. He wants respect and he’s being overlooked. He’s blaming it on you and me, I’m quite sure.” I looked at Worth with a question on my face. “No, he doesn’t know.” Worth read the look and I nodded in relief. We could only deal with one battle at a time. “Okay, peace?” I asked. “Peace,” he echoed. “Now, what the hell do we do about getting our house built?” he asked. “After all, I understand you have started a rumor that I’m ruined and unable to pay my debts. That’s pretty serious in our set, Auggie.” “I’ll spread it around that I was jealous and just said that to get back at you,” I suggested. “Well, that’s pretty much true, don’t you think?” He looked at me as if I was a naughty child. He caught himself at my frown and neutralized the look immediately. That was good. He was learning. I reached for his hand. “Let me see what I can do to fix this, okay? It may not happen in three months, but it will be soon, I promise.” He nodded. He was going to let me handle it, after all. He really didn’t have any choice in the matter.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE Auggie I suddenly had more on my plate than I could ever remember in my entire life. In fact, if anything, I could feel something building inside my stomach I’d never experienced — panic. I had a building project going on at Sunset Village that affected dozens of people in several different ways. I had given my word that the residents would not be affected during construction. I decided to go and visit Mrs. Jessup. Before I went there, however, I had some business to clear up. I called her number. “Hello?” answered Beverly Dexter. “Beverly, it’s Auggie.” “How are you? I have some quotes for you to look over. I thought we might meet at Brandon’s office when you’re both free.” I had so much on my mind, including the phrasing of what I was about to say, that I readily agreed. “That’s fine. But listen, Beverly, I have a confession to make.” “What’s that?” “Well…” Geez, this was hard. “At some point in the past, I know you’ve had a spat with a guy and wanted to do anything you could to get back at him, right?” “Yes, haven’t we all?” Beverly laughed, thinking she was being invited to play a part in a plan I might have. “Well, the thing is, that’s exactly what I did. The first day you and I met, and you told me what Worth said about letting me deal with ‘fripperies’— well, I don’t need to tell you that the remark got to me. You see, Worth and I had a previous agreement about me managing the building of his new house and I was insulted by the way he demeaned me. So, I told you he was broke, ruined… well, you remember all the things I said.” There was a long pause and I wondered if she was about to hang up on me. “Yes, I do. Quite well, in fact. I remember being disappointed because I found him quite intriguing and couldn’t believe he’d gotten himself into such a mess.” I picked that comment up and followed through. “That’s just it, he isn’t ruined, has more money than ever and he really needs your help to get that house done. What I did was childish and I realize that now. I apologized to him and now I’m apologizing to you. I got your help with the Sunset Village Project under false pretenses. I’m thoroughly and completely sorry and will see to it personally that you are paid for every hour you put into the project, if only you’ll forgive me.” I waited to hear her response. It was a few moments in coming as she digested the impact of what I was saying. “Hmmm… yes, I see you’ve made a mess of things.” Her voice wasn’t amused, but not angry, either. Maybe I read her wrong from the very start. “Tell you what, Auggie. I’ll still donate my services at Sunset because I’ve publicly said I would and it would only cause you further embarrassment if this story got around. But in return, I need to get back to Worth and not lose that possible commission as well. He’s well connected and it could be a very favorable thing for my

career.” “Oh, that’s perfect, Beverly! I promised Worth I would ask you to come back because clearly, this is my fault. I will let his office know to expect you and call you with an appointment time when he’s not seeing patients.” “Auggie, if you don’t mind… what is your role in all this? Are you and Worth an item?” “It’s not what you think,” I said enigmatically. “Go and talk to Worth — he’ll be excited to see you.” Little did I know then the impact those parting words would have on my life to come. *** I got into the car, glad for its warmth and headed for Sunset Village to visit Mrs. Jessup. I found her in the dining room, sitting alone in the corner of the room. There was a half empty cup of tea in front of her and I was suddenly ashamed that I’d been so caught up in my own life that I had ignored hers. I carried a tray with a fresh cup of tea, two sugar-free pastries I’d purchased at the local bakery and a small vase with some flowers. Just beyond her, the windows framed the flakes of the first snow. I knew this was a tough time of year for the elderly. They were often victims of seasonal affective disorder, simply not getting enough sunlight. It was too cold to take her outdoors in her chair, but I made a mental note to ask Beverly whether we might include broad windows and even some skylights in our addition. I then thought that an indoor arboretum would be a wonderful feature as well. “Hello, Mrs. Jessup,” I greeted her, setting down the tray and putting the pastry in front of her. Her eyes lit up and she reached upward to hug me. “I’ve missed you, Auggie,” she began with childish delight. “Although I can say I’ve heard your name bandied about a great deal.” “You have? Then you know about the plans for the building and grounds?” I asked. “Oh, yes… the word on the street,” she lifted her hand sideways as if telling a confidence, “is that you are quite the force to be reckoned with. I’ve even heard whispers about Worth LaViere.” She smiled in her personally charming manner. I thought for a moment how horrible it will be to get old, to be discounted for everything you say or do. I vowed to somehow overcome that. I just had no idea how at the moment. “Really? What is the street saying?” I asked, amused as I stirred a packet of sugar into my tea. She had the grace to blush a bit, sipping her own tea and taking a tiny bit of the pastry I’d given her. “They’re saying the two of you are in a relationship,” she confided, although the look on her face was not exactly one of congratulations. I noticed this but decided it was due to the fact that Worth had made such a spectacle at the bachelor auction. “So, you heard what happened at the auction, I take it?” I asked, my eyes trained on her face. She nodded. “A bit disgraceful, dear.” “Perhaps, but it was for a very good cause,” I said, patting her hand. “I don’t think you fully understand, my dear,” she said, leaning closer to me. The snow was getting heavier and I briefly wondered how we would break ground with bad weather setting in earlier than normal this year. “How do you mean, Mrs. Jessup?” I asked idly, not really paying attention.

“You shouldn’t get mixed up with the LaVieres, my dear,” she said and it took a moment for her words to sink into my consciousness. “Oh? Why do you say that?” I asked, half concentrating. “It would bring up a most unfortunate affair and hurt a great many people, your father, most importantly,” she said quietly. This snapped my attention to the present and what she was saying. “Whatever do you mean, Mrs. Jessup?” “Dear, I wouldn’t bring this up, except there are some things that while better left buried, have the potential of rearing their ugly heads and perhaps it’s my job to try and prevent this. I can’t do as much as I used to, now that I’m here… but you’re here, too. I can tell you,” she said, looking at me for a reaction. Suddenly I felt a cold chill and looked at her. “Mrs. Jessup, please tell me what it is you’re dancing around. If it affects me, I have the right to know.” She sipped her tea, enjoying her moment in the spotlight as would anyone who had been retired from society’s pivotal position. “My dear,” she said, patting the back of my hand, “the senior Mr. LaViere and your mother once had a torrid affair.” I choked on my tea, staring wide-eyed at her. “What?” “Yes, my dear, I wouldn’t bring it up except that I can see nothing but trouble lying ahead.” “When… when did this happen?” I asked, but in my gut, I knew. There was proof — it was in those pictures and in my mother ’s half-ass explanation of them. “It happened before you were born, dear. The families often gathered together and your mother loved throwing barbecues. Now, mind you, there was always a bit of flirting going on now and then, but it stayed within our set and that made it almost acceptable. Your mother, however, took it far past that point. She was quite smitten with LaViere and made a fool of herself, to be quite truthful. There was even some talk about a brief pregnancy,” she whispered, watching my face for a reaction. Naturally I was horrified. That would mean I was not the only child, just the only legitimate one. “Mrs. Jessup, are you saying she had an abortion?” She shook her head. “Not entirely sure. It was all very hush-hush. She went on a vacation quite suddenly, some excuse about Florida for the winter. Whether she had the child terminated or whether she gave birth and adopted it out, we’ll never know. I’m not even sure how much your father knows, but the less the better, you can be sure. He’s such a dear, though… he will always stand by her.” I was in total shock. It wasn’t Mother ’s behavior that stunned me. She had always had the undertone of being duplicitous. It wasn’t even that Dad had been so abused, he could take care of himself. It was the idea that possibly somewhere out there I might have an older sibling. The idea was too big to focus on at the moment. Mrs. Jessup was watching my face for reactions and I didn’t want to upset her. “I think I knew a little bit about some of this,” I said to set her mind at ease. “I found some pictures and Mother ’s explanation wasn’t entirely believable. Now, don’t you worry. Thank you for bringing this up. I surely will give this considerable thought before doing anything that could hurt someone, most especially Dad.” She nodded, satisfied that she’d done the right thing and went back to her pastry. Suddenly, I felt an enormous need to get out in the fresh air. The air in the room was hot, stuffy and filled with odd odors from the kitchen, not to mention the stacked bedpans on the racks in the hallway. I stood,

hugged Mrs. Jessup and said, “I need to go. I have an appointment that I’m late to, I’m sorry…” Mrs. Jessup didn’t seem the least bit surprised. She had dropped the bomb, watched the explosion and was now getting out of the line of further fire mostly in the person of my mother. Once I got into the fresh air, I drew in huge gulps, despite the fact that it was filled with snow. Internally, I felt like the maelstrom of flakes about me, confused and in a dead fall. I got to my car and climbed in and started the engine, just sitting there for some time. I wanted to cry and be sick simultaneously. I couldn’t seem to think straight. I didn’t want to be there although I had no idea where I wanted to be more. I just didn’t want to be me at that moment. I’d never felt like this before and couldn’t explain it. There was no safe place. I couldn’t go home and face my mother — not yet. That time would come. I couldn’t reach out to Worth — he was implicated by association and although he knew nothing of this, I had no idea how he might respond. I went to the only person who could possibly shelter me — Brandon. I drove to his office and sat in his waiting room until his secretary motioned me in. Once he saw me, he stood and came toward me and I did the only thing I wanted to do. I fell into his arms. I was crying, almost hysterically. I knew Brandon was completely thrown by my behavior. Hell, I was too. He led me over to a leather sofa in his office and sat down next to me, cradling my face against his shoulder while I sobbed. When the sobbing finally relented and I was left stutter-sucking in air, he asked me in a quiet voice, “Want to talk about it?” I shook my head, but I knew I had to talk to someone. I drew back and sat against the back of the sofa, fishing for tissues in my bag. Brandon quickly got to his feet and fetched a box he kept on his desk. He opened his door and spoke briefly with his secretary. Handing me the tissues, there was a tapping at the door within moments and in she came, a tray of cups and cookies in her hands. She set them on the coffee table and quietly left. Brandon poured a cup of tea and handed it to me. “Here, drink this. It’s hot and will help to relax you inside.” He got up and retrieved a small flask from his desk drawer, adding a couple teaspoons to my tea. “There, that’ll help too,” he soothed me. He let me sit there for some time in silence, not pressing. He sensed I just needed him nearby, but not necessarily to say anything. “I’m sorry for barging in,” I began, but he put up his hand immediately to interrupt me. “You’re never an interruption, Auggie. I’m here for you… I don’t think I have to even say that.” I shook my head, knowing what he meant. Finally, I was composed enough to speak. “I need a favor,” I said softly. “Name it,” he responded without hesitation, patting my leg and putting his arm around my shoulders. “What I tell you stays between us, right?” I asked tentatively. “Got a penny?” he asked. “What?” I was puzzled. “A penny. Have you got a penny?” he repeated. I opened my bag and found one lying in the bottom of its satin lining. I handed it to him. “There, now we can use attorney/client privilege. You’ve just hired me. Now, what in the hell has you so upset?” I dabbed at my eyes, blew my nose and began to tell him the story, beginning with Mrs. Jessup’s gossipy warning and ending with the collaborating proof of the pictures in Mother ’s album and her weak explanation.

Brandon listened quietly, his brows raising from time to time as he realized the cause behind the turmoil I was feeling internally. I began to cry again as the possibilities ran rampant. Patting my hand, he got up and brought back a notepad and pen. “Here, let’s see if we can’t make some sense of this mess,” he said. “I’m going to guess and you correct me if I’m wrong, but I believe I understand what you’d like me to do for you.” I nodded and lay my head on his shoulder for the comfort it brought. “I’m guessing the most horrible question is whether your mother and Worth’s father continued to have a relationship and whether you might actually be their daughter, am I right?” he asked gently. This brought a renewed onslaught of crying as I nodded miserably. “There, there… let’s deal with this one first. Now, all we need to do is get DNA samples and that will tell you definitively. I’m going to send you to a discrete doctor I know and they’ll swab the inside of your cheek and that’s all there is to it. They send it off for analysis and it’s considered legally accurate. Now, the question comes whether you want to collect DNA from Worth to determine whether there is a match, or from your dad to rule him in or out. Naturally, if your dad isn’t a match, that still doesn’t rule Worth in or out. How do you want to do this?” His voice was tender and understanding, but I could hear the authoritative underlying attorney tone. “I should mention, though, that in order to test Worth’s DNA, legally, we need his acknowledged approval by signature.” My eyes grew large at that. “Can’t I just get some hair from his hairbrush or something?” I pleaded. “As an attorney, I cannot advise you to do something that’s against the law, Auggie. You can send in a hair sample, but the lab will require signed permission in order to process it.” “I can’t do that, Brandon. That would start all sorts of trouble. I can’t even ask that of my own dad — I wouldn’t want to hurt him that way.” “Let me repeat, Auggie. As your attorney, I cannot advise you to do something illegal. I can only inform you of the law. Now, let me also say that the doctor I’m sending you to has been known, shall we say, to have more relaxed standards for certain people. Look, Auggie, I can’t say any more than that.” I nodded. “I understand. I don’t want you to do anything illegal, Brandon. I just didn’t know where to go.” “No, no, that’s fine that you came here. In fact, I like it very much that you know you can do that. My hands are tied on the DNA account. Let’s move on, however. You are wondering whether you have an older sibling out there somewhere, right?” Again, I nodded. “Well, let’s begin with getting your DNA back and I’ll start a background check to see what we can uncover. I would like to have a chat with Mrs. Jessup, but I think the less attention we call to it, the better off you’ll be. This may be one of the few times that it’s a good thing she’s not out in public any longer. Although, that doesn’t rule out other people knowing about it. It’s been a long time since that would have happened, but that sort of thing isn’t forgotten… at least not until someone wants to remember. The more attention we bring to you and Worth being a couple, the more likely someone is going to begin remembering. After all, Mrs. Jessup is an old lady, but there were others far younger.” I felt the panic returning and he must have read it in my eyes. I began to hyperventilate. Brandon put his arms around me again, his hand patting the back of my head. Then he did the most unexpected thing. He pulled my head backward, brushed away the tears on my cheeks and kissed me fully on the

mouth. It wasn’t a long kiss, but it wasn’t exactly fatherly, either. “There now,” he said. “I’m going to help you sort this all out and everything will be fine. I promise. Can you hold up?” he asked, as normally as if he were kissing his sister. If anything, my insides were now in a greater turmoil. Not only was his kiss more romantic than brotherly, I hadn’t minded it. The horror of my predicament launched a fresh onslaught of sobbing. Brandon patted me then he went to his door again and spoke to his secretary. He came back, grabbing his coat from a closet in a small anteroom. “Come on, I’m getting you out of here.” “But you have clients…” I objected. “Yes, and you are it. You’ve just hired me for the remainder of the afternoon. First, I want you to take another swig from this flask. It will help to settle your nerves. Next, we’re going to run by that doctor ’s office and get you swabbed.” He was efficient and yet sympathetic. “Should I have alcohol in my mouth if they’re going to swab it? I mean, isn’t it like having to fast before you have a blood test?” I asked innocently. “No, sweetie, your DNA goes all the way through you. The alcohol will evaporate, probably already has. Let’s just get you settled. I know you well enough to understand that you’ll obsess and fume over this until we get some resolution. Getting started on the path to discovery is the fastest route to get it settled.” I nodded. Brandon did seem to understand me better than I realized. “Brandon, I don’t want to cost you fees from lost clients.” He laughed. “If it makes you feel better, we’ll call this our hundred-thousand-dollar date. How’s that?” I laughed at the irony. “Good! We’ll start with that smile and work our way out from there.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me through his lobby and into the snow. “Here, you’ve had something to drink, so you’re riding with me. I’ll drop you back here later. Okay?” I nodded. I really was in no mood to drive myself. My stomach was only then beginning to settle and I didn’t want to be alone in any sense. Besides, it was snowing even harder and the roads were getting slick. I climbed in with Brandon and we drove in the direction of town. Brandon sensed that I wasn’t done talking. I needed to put all the dark, troubling questions out there and look at them from different perspectives. “So, assuming that you and LaViere aren’t related by blood, and assuming that you don’t have an older sibling floating around out there, what else bothers you?” Brandon had a way of getting right to the point. “The scandal, for one,” I complained. “Don’t you think that probably died away long before you were even born?” His point made good sense. “My poor Dad. I wonder if he knows,” I speculated. “Sweet, if Mrs. Jessup knows, then I’d say it’s a pretty good bet your dad knows, too… or at least has heard the gossip, even if he doesn’t know for sure.” I nodded. “Yes, you’re right. There’s no way he couldn’t have heard the talk. Well, I suppose the other aspect is how this will affect Worth and me. His father is bound to not want me around. I pose too much of a threat to his reputation. Then there’s my mother, who, while I don’t really care if she

disinherits me, will make my life a living hell if she feels threatened by what I know. What a hell of a mess, Brandon!” I was exasperated. I rarely cursed, only in times of great frustration when I couldn’t get things to work out the way they should. Brandon casually looked from the traffic to glance at me once in a while. He nodded, letting me know he was listening. We came to a light and he turned a bit in the seat and looked directly at me. “Auggie, I think you’re going to have to accept that there are some aspects of this that aren’t malleable. They are what they are. All you can do at this point is find out enough truth to refine your own sense of what happened and let God pass the judgment. You have people who love you, you know… including me.” His last two words were so soft, I wasn’t sure I’d heard them. I looked at him but he had returned his profile to me. I must have imagined his comment or perhaps he meant that he loved me like a friend. Either way, I didn’t have any mental energy left to dedicate to the question, so I let it go. We pulled into the parking lot of the doctor Brandon was referring me to and we went directly into the building through the back door. Brandon settled me in one of the back examining rooms and disappeared. He returned shortly with a nurse in tow, a plastic bag with swabs in her hand. “Auggie, just do as she says and I’ll take care of the rest,” he told me. It was a brief procedure and we were back in Brandon’s car minutes later. I laughed. “What’s so funny?” “I just realized maybe I can finally find out if I’m really related to the Earl of Langford as my aunt always insisted.” He grinned. “Would it matter? You’ll always be my royal Auggie,” he commented. There it was again, the offhand remark that revealed an aching heart. What am I doing? I had no right to involve Brandon in this and I think I recognized instinctively that it wouldn’t make Worth happy. Not at all. Especially after our recent pact to keep everything on the table, open and honest. Would Worth understand why I couldn’t come to him on this? Would he forgive me? The thought of him made me ache to be in his arms, to feel his comforting caresses and hear that deep voice in my ear. Another tear fell upon my cheek. Brandon noticed immediately. “Afraid to be royal?” he teased me into a smile. I shook my head. “As long as you bow when you enter my room,” I teased in return. The snow had become a whiteout and Brandon’s car was spinning tires. “Auggie, this is a mess. Too early in the year for this. No one is used to driving in this and it will melt in a day or two, but right now, this is damned dangerous.” I looked around to determine where we were. “Your apartment is just down there,” I said, pointing at the upcoming intersection. “Yes,” he responded, cautious and trying to ascertain what I was suggesting. “Well, good, then drop me off here at this Holiday and you’ll only be a couple of blocks down the street. I’ll stay here and you can be my guest at dinner in their restaurant. Keep me company for a bit before you go home. After all, this is our date, isn’t it?” I pointed out. “A very good point,” he smiled and I detected even a sense of relief. I knew if I asked Brandon to stay all night, he would have. I also knew he wanted to be with me because I wanted him, not because I was running from anyone or anything else. He was an honorable man. I knew I could trust him. He pulled into the Holiday and went in to get me a room. He had to take it in his name because

they wouldn’t rent to someone who didn’t have a car in their parking lot. I went up to the room to freshen up while Brandon waited for me in the dining room. We ordered wine and steaks with a side salad. We laughed and reminisced about our college days. We had many friends in common and shared the gossip we each knew. It was a wonderfully warm, pleasant evening and made me wonder why everything I shared with Worth was filled with drama and intense emotion. Could I have warm evenings like this with Worth? Brandon kissed my cheek and left me at about ten o’clock, promising to pick me up the next morning. He forgot, however, to leave me his phone charger so I could keep my phone going. I thought about calling home to let them know I was fine before my battery was dead. I chose to call Dad directly. Without details, I told him I had taken a room in the city to wait out the blizzard. He said he thought it was very wise and wished me a good night. I settled under the covers and fell asleep almost immediately. It had been a very long and very emotional day.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR Worth I stood in the plastic-sheeted doorway to the new annex and surveyed the progress so far. I hated things that weren’t complete. I tapped Jeremy’s number. “Hey!” he answered on the second ring. “Helluva snow, isn’t it?” he said cheerily. “When is this mess going to be done?” I said without ceremony. “Well, good morning to you, too, asshole!” his voice was half perturbed and half amused. “Typical Worth,” he added. “Sorry. You know how I am. I want this done and to get the business on track.” “Worth, everything is on track with the construction. Within a week, you can bring in all those torture tables and spa accessories. Ten days from now you can have your grand opening and listen to your praises being sung from the heavens. So, back off now, buddy, and let me do what I do best,” he pushed back. “This is what you do best?” I let the innuendo lay there. “Asshole,” came Jeremy’s final word as I hung up. I looked around at the havoc and couldn’t imagine that the crew would have it all together. There were two therapy hot tubs to be installed, special wiring, drywall, trim, paint, flooring, drapes. The list was long and it put me in a very bad mood. Patsy was tapping at her computer, doing her best to not catch my eye. She knew me well enough by now to understand my black moods. “When are the interviews?” I asked. “Beginning immediately after lunch. I’ve cleared your calendar of patients for the rest of the day.” “Clear my calendar for the rest of the week. In fact, take the rest of the week off. I’ll handle the interviews and we’ll be swamped next week so you should plan on overtime,” I ordered her and went into my office, slamming the glass door. It was unusual for me to be out of humor to this extent. I could only credit it with the unresolved issue of Auggie, our upcoming marriage and the fact that I did not have a house underway… and it was her fault. The light on my desk blinked, indicating a client was in the waiting room. I went through the door like a bull. “Patsy, I thought I told you…” Before I got the sentence completed, she pointed into my waiting room and rolled her eyes. I turned and walked into the comfortable room and saw Beverly Dexter seated there, her long legs crossed at the knee which gave me the distinct impression of nothing but legs. I responded immediately and even my bad temper did nothing to deter it. “Ms. Dexter…” I started but was interrupted. She stood up and said, “When are you going to begin calling me Beverly as I asked? But never mind that for now. You and I are going to talk… in your office… and now.” She literally seized my tie and pulled me into the inner office as if she had a dog on a leash.

“Thank you, don’t mind if I do.” She smirked, dropped my tie and took a seat opposite my desk. She tossed a packet on my desk and said, “Read it, sign it and I’ll get started immediately.” I was fairly confounded, but it was a welcomed respite from the dark mood I’d just been in. I sat down in my chair and asked, “Can I get you something?” “No time for that, Worth. Read the papers.” The packet contained contracts that essentially bound me to hire her to design and supervise the building of the house I wanted. It bore no resemblance to the blarney Auggie had superimposed but was the specifications I originally asked for. “You’ve changed your mind about me?” I asked her bluntly. “Not until yesterday when Auggie called me. She filled me in that she’d been upset with you and sabotaged the project. I forgave her. It was in my financial and professional interest to do so.” I had to admire her style. She came right to the point and she was motivated by ambition. I understood this. “And Auggie?” I broached. “What about her?” She crossed those legs again and I felt myself becoming mute. “She’s okay with this?” I asked, somewhat dubious at the sudden turn-around of Auggie’s insistence that she be on hand to approve every aspect of the construction. “Of course. Why else would she send me?” “She sent you.” It was a statement of disbelief. “What’s wrong with you? Of course she sent me. Why else would I be here? Look, Worth, I’m a busy woman and the weather hasn’t turned into a friend. Do you want me to build that house or not?” She was driving a hard line and knew she had me over a barrel. “I need to look these over and talk to Auggie first,” I began. “Why? You know what you want, I know what you want, now let’s get it done. Those are standard contracts, but I have other offers waiting. If you don’t want to sign, then give me a hug and I’m out of here. Auggie begged me to come back and give you another chance — and I really don’t understand why you’re so concerned with what she thinks. After all, she doesn’t appear to be the least concerned with what you think…” “What makes you think that?” I asked her, feeling a rock in the pit of my angry stomach at what she was about to say. “Well… only that I went by Brandon’s office this morning to drop off some papers for the Sunset development and Auggie’s car was in his parking lot. There wasn’t another set of tire tracks anywhere and nearly six inches of snow covered her car. It had clearly been there all night. So, I can only draw the conclusion that she was with Brandon. Look, it’s none of my business what’s going on here. Do you want to do business, or not?” Her look was daring me and I never backed down from a challenge. I picked up a pen on my desk and signed every document without even reading them. I handed them to her. “Please ask my secretary to make copies on your way out,” I told her, my mind elsewhere. “Break ground and get started. We’ve got valuable time to make up,” I ordered and twirled in my chair so she could not see the expression on my face. I felt like I’d been kicked in the gut. I heard her leave and watched out the window until her car cleared my parking lot. “Just lock up when you leave,” I told Patsy as I strode by.

I drove to Brandon’s building and there, alone in the corner of the lot was, indeed, Auggie’s car. It clearly had not been driven overnight. It confirmed what the Dexter woman had told me. Auggie had spent the night with Brandon. I gave her one more chance. I dialed Auggie’s phone and it went immediately to voice mail. She wasn’t accepting calls. Then I dialed the house number and her dad answered. “No, Auggie isn’t here. She was out overnight and hasn’t returned yet.” There was no way to describe the blackness that set into my soul. The woman I loved, the woman who was to be my wife, the only person on the planet I was supposed to completely trust had betrayed me. I tried to blank out the image of Brandon, naked and thrusting into her beautiful body and I thought I would pass out. Enraged, I knew I was out of control and so I went to the only place that had ever offered me solace… Joe’s. I started drinking even though there were interviews set up for later that day. At that point, I didn’t care. Not about anything. Not about the business and although I tried hard to convince myself I didn’t care about Auggie, either, the truth kept rising. I pushed away my drink and drove, somewhat shakily, back to the clinic to wait.

Auggie Brandon picked me up for breakfast and we began the slow drive back to his office. When we arrived, my car looked like an iceberg in the middle of what was an otherwise empty, but plowed parking lot. Brandon took my keys, cleaned off the car and held my arm while I got into it. It was icy beneath the snow. “Brandon, what can I say?” “Say nothing, it’s what I’m here for,” he answered and bent to kiss me on the cheek. “Sure you can handle the roads?” “Yes, I’ll drive slowly,” I said and he nodded and firmly shut the door, tapping the hood as he walked toward his door. He turned once and waved and I responded likewise. I hadn’t showered and was still wearing the tear-stained clothes from the day before. I decided to go home and get cleaned up first, but dreaded it because I knew it meant seeing my mother. Resolved, I knew I had to do it eventually and steeled myself for it as I pulled into the driveway. Luckily for me, she was napping. I met Dad in the living room. “Worth called here looking for you this morning.” “I’m getting cleaned up and I’ll go talk to him,” I told Dad and he nodded. “Probably a good idea,” was his only comment. I dressed carefully, choosing colors that suited me particularly. I suspected I was in for an emotional afternoon and while I wanted to look my best, I didn’t want to make Worth desire me. I wasn’t ready to go there yet, not until I knew whether it was possible we were blood-related. In my purse was a release for Worth to sign. I had no idea how to get him to do it, but I was always up for a challenge. This challenge had a great deal at stake. I pulled into his building parking lot and noticed the new sign. I knew he had a great deal on his hands and wondered if Beverly Dexter had gotten in touch with him yet. There were construction

vehicles parked everywhere and a variety of tarps and plastic sheets blocked off his office from the rest of the building. The doors were blocked open and it was chilly inside. It felt foreign, compared to the usual neatness of his domain. I saw Jervis’ door had been removed and it looked like there was a hot tub being installed in that space. I smiled to myself and was proud of the businessman I was going to be marrying… hopefully. I walked into Worth’s office and found it empty. He was evidently off somewhere in the complex and I took advantage of his absence to use his bathroom. In there, I opened the medicine chest over the sink and saw the toothbrush he kept there. I slipped it into my bag, flushed the toilet and emerged. Worth was standing there facing me, his feet planted wide apart, a black look of rage upon his face. “Hi!” I greeted him, aware that it was not appropriate given the look on his face but not having anything better in mind to say. He stared at me, waiting for me to continue. I felt completely ill at ease. “I see they’re getting things done,” I tried, hoping that the reason for his anger had something to do with the workmen, and not with me. I was wrong. “How dare you!” he said. The look on his face was fury, but his voice was deadly level. I knew this was about as mad as he was capable of getting and although I figured he’d be upset about my not checking in with him the night before, this was well beyond anything I’d imagined. “Worth, sit down. Let’s talk. You’re mad, I can see it.” “You think?” he shouted and I reached behind me and shut the door to his inner office. There was no reason to involve others. “You were with him!” The shout roared through the room. I went blank. “Him? You mean Brandon? Oh, yes, of course I was,” I answered innocently. Then it struck me what he meant. “Oh, wait, Worth… no, it’s not what you think. You think I was with him, as in spending the night with him? Oh, no, no, no. Don’t you know me better than that? What happened to our up front trust we agreed on?” “How would you explain your car in his parking lot all night?” I was puzzled. “How would you know that, unless you were spying on me?” So much for trust, I told myself. “Explain yourself,” he ordered and his voice was strong enough to make me fall backward into the chair opposite his desk. Visions of my mother ordering me in the same tone surfaced in my head. “How dare you speak to me like that! You know that’s a trigger for me. What the hell is the matter with you, anyway? Don’t you trust me?” He stared at me and I could see the realization of our situation dawning in his eyes. I said it again, “Do you trust me, Worth?” He sat down, his fingers tapping the surface of his glass desk. He settled, knowing that this was a make or break answer. “Yes.” “Yes? You don’t act like you trust me.” “I do, I do, dammit,” he cursed, looking at the window to try and regain his composure. “How much?” “How much what?” he asked. “How much do you trust me?” I pushed the point home. “With my life,” he said and he uttered those words with the realization that yes, he probably did trust me with his life. It must have dawned on him at that very moment.

I opened my purse and slapped the permission slip onto his desk. I had tri-folded it so only the third with the signature line was legible. “Do you trust me enough to sign this without reading it?” He cocked his head and frowned. “What is that?” “Worth, I asked you a question. If you trust me, you’ll sign it without knowing what it is. This is a test, Worth. Do you trust me?” He grew dark again, accepting my challenge and overriding whatever common sense would have kept him from signing a blank document. He picked up a pen and with a great flourish, made a show of putting his name on the permission line. Before he changed his mind, I slid the paper quickly back into my bag. “Now, as to what happened last night, if you promise to stay calm, I will explain it.” He nodded, folding his hands in his lap in his best imitation of a stable psychologist. “Alright then. I went to visit Mrs. Jessup at Sunset Village yesterday. While I was there, it started to snow. When I left her, I went to Brandon’s office. We talked about Sunset,” I continued, careful to not lie but to not necessarily reveal my entire reason for being there. “He suggested that since the weather was bad, that we have that date you paid for and he would take me to dinner at a local restaurant near his home. I agreed, we had dinner, he dropped me off at a hotel and he went home,” I stressed the last three words. “This morning, he picked me up, we stopped for breakfast to let the rush hour settle down and then took me back to his office so I could get my car. Since I hadn’t planned to be out all night, I went home first to shower and change and then came here to see you. I didn’t have my phone charger with me and it went dead at some point in the night. I knew you had probably been trying to call me, and since I wanted to see the progress on your office, I thought I’d come in and surprise you. This wasn’t exactly the kind of surprise I was expecting, though,” I finished and was proud of myself for not lying or twisting any facts. I just left a couple of internal feelings out, not to mention the giant detail that he and I might share a father, for God’s sake. Worth studied me and knew I wasn’t lying. I would have been disappointed if he’d thought I was. I wasn’t. I continued. “Now, I thought we agreed that you would not interrogate me again?” He relaxed. “You’re right, I’m sorry. You have to admit, the evidence seemed pretty damned incriminating.” “Only if you were looking for it to be,” I pointed out. The look on his face told me he probably agreed with that. “So, how did you know I was with Brandon in the first place?” “Ms. Dexter came by this morning. She said you’d fessed up and encouraged her to come and work out the details to have her move forward on our house. She questioned whether we were seeing one another and I walked around that, naturally.” Him saying that encouraged me that what I had just walked around fell securely under the “walk around” rule we had between us. He continued. “She mentioned that she’d been by Brandon’s office to have something signed and saw your car there, covered with overnight snow. The rest… well, you can imagine where my mind went from there.” I smiled and stood up, walked around his desk and kissed him on the cheek, hugging him from behind. “Yes, I can imagine where your mind went from there and you can rest assured, Brandon and I did nothing you wouldn’t approve of. Let’s put this behind us, shall we? I can understand why you were angry and now you understand why there was no reason to be, right?” He nodded. “Okay, why don’t you show me around the construction before I leave?” I asked and this seemed

to lighten his mood considerably. Worth walked from area to area of the office space and explained where the various therapies would be conducted and how they would work together in an overall healing process. I was proud of his good business sense, and proud of the fact that he would be growing a business that would obviously put him light years ahead of his peers in embracing more than just talk therapy. “It’s beautiful, Worth, and it’s not even done. I can’t wait until it’s all ready. When do you think that will be?” “A week,” he said and I nodded in approval. One thing about Worth, he did not waste time. He walked me to the door and out to my car. “I want you,” he said simply. “No, I need you,” he emphasized. My mind went blank. I couldn’t sleep with Worth until all the questions were answered. It would take several days to get the tests back. “I can’t right now, Worth… a woman thing. But I want you to know I want you, too!” I kissed him lovingly and left. I drove straight to the doctor ’s office and went in the back door as instructed. I dropped off the toothbrush and the signed form. The nurse didn’t question anything. She’d already been instructed by Brandon to expedite things. When I got home, Mother was in the living room. I heard her voice. “Auggie, is that you?” “Yes,” was all I could manage. “Come here, please,” she called. “No, not feeling well. I’ll be down later,” I called and when I went into my room, I locked the door behind me. How was I going to spend the next two weeks of my life avoiding being alone with two major players in my future? I chose the coward’s way out. I took up residence at Sunset Village.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE Auggie Sunset Village had a single room vacancy and as long as I paid the fees out of pocket, I took over the room and set it up as a working/sleeping space. This let me come in constant contact with the very people I needed to further my project and kept me out of contact with those I wished to avoid. Brandon, upon learning I was there, spent most of his spare time there. It turned out that he was extremely patient with older people and even handled some simple legal matters for them pro bono. There were wills to be written, powers of attorney and simple letters to distant family members letting them know where they were. I cried through many of these. It was like being with a building full of injured troops who would never see their families again. I spent my days scouring for ideas of what to put in the recreation room, as we had decided to call it. Some of the first things I ordered were sets of state-of-the-art computers equipped with mini cams so residents could visit with their families via Skype. I poured through catalogs of crafts, storage systems and aids designed for those who had lost mobility. I chose a theater system with sound and made sure that every seat would come equipped with a headphone that could be adjusted for individual sound. Then I turned to the seed catalogs and nursery offerings. Beverly and I drew up plans to show the space and sun exposure we would have to work with. We planned fountains and plenty of comfortable seating next to raised flowerbeds so the residents could garden from their wheelchairs or one of the many benches. This saved them from stooping or reaching. I consulted with experts at retirement homes across the country and decided we were to have the best of everything. On the days when the workmen were a bit noisy, I hosted movies in the dining room and turned the sound up nice and loud. We had filtered off the annex debris with layers of overlapping heavy tarps and then painted the tarps to show the images of giant presents — giving the residents a childlike anticipation of what lay behind. It also helped to keep down the complaints regarding the inconveniences. The sickest patients were relocated to the opposite end of the building so their privacy and comfort could be respected. It was, without a doubt, one of the most powerful short periods in my life. It allowed me a perspective that was one-hundred and eight degrees from the privileged, self-absorbed, entitled life I’d led up to that point. It taught me to walk in others’ shoes and how the little things, like using someone’s first name when you spoke with them, or listening to what they used to do when they were young were so important. I kept in constant contact with Worth by phone, careful to follow up on his progress with the clinic, all the while sharing what was going on at my end and then together we’d talk about the house. If he realized I was avoiding him, he didn’t say anything. I think in some small sense he knew we had to get through this busy period of involvement before we could completely be together. Beverly was true to her word. The work at Sunset moved swiftly and the day came when they were installing the wheelchair-friendly seating in the theater. I had ordered hundreds of films on reels, just like the residents had seen in their younger years. They were fans of movies from the thirties through

the eighties. They had no need for Star Wars or the Friday the 13th horror films. I took some time to plan party themes and we ordered costumes. I had a grand piano brought in and was delighted to learn that we had several accomplished pianists in our midst and they were all willing to perform on a rotating basis. Once the weather was warmer, the piano could be wheeled out into the garden and the residents would be able to enjoy Chopin by moonlight. I was having great fun and my imagination was running rampant. I had approached Mrs. Jessup’s son for a donation and he promptly wrote me a check for three hundred thousand dollars. I was overwhelmed and once again, wondered how Worth had managed to pull it off. We decided, in light of the contribution, to name the new theater the “Alice B. Jessup Theater” and she cried when she learned the news. Finally came the day when the inside work was complete and there was nothing left but to put away craft supplies and get ready for the grand-opening party. I had become a familiar face and everyone found an opportunity to touch my hand or call me “darlin’” as I passed nearby. I asked Mrs. Jessup if she’d like to help me organize the craft room and she was only too happy to do so. I had never again referred to our earlier conversation and she seemed a bit nervous when we were alone. I asked if there was something wrong. “I might have said too much last time we talked,” she chirped while sorting through cards of embroidery thread. “The whole incident was very hush hush and I’m not sure anyone but the parties involved even remember anything about it.” She blushed. “And me, of course.” “It’s okay, Mrs. Jessup. I’ve adjusted to the idea and you haven’t done anyone any harm,” I assured her and wished I could believe it myself. “You know, dear… your mother was gone some time. If it’s of any help, I believe she went through with having the child. I don’t know any more, whether it survived or if she even knows. Often in these cases, the children are taken immediately upon birth and the birth mother never knows another thing from that point on.” I pretended that none of this mattered and just casually asked, “I wonder where she went in Florida. Do you suppose she went to a convent or stayed with family? It would be nice to know who’s included in the secret.” “Why, she stayed with your aunt Elizabeth, Auggie, the aunt you were named for. I thought that would occur to you. She lived down there in her later years and when your mother returned, that’s all we heard about. ‘Aunt Elizabeth this and Aunt Elizabeth that.’ That’s why you have her name. Obviously, your mother owned her a great debt of gratitude.” Mrs. Jessup’s face was heavy with the weight of her worry and I wanted to make things easier for her, but it was falling on me to keep my own face from showing any emotion. I froze at this and wondered why it hadn’t occurred to me before. I’d been so busy being independent that I’d ignored the clues all along the way. The aunt I had been named for had moved to Florida as old age crept upon her. The Kentucky winters, although fairly short, were too damp for her. She had bought a sizable home on the water in Naples and I remembered Mother mentioning, from time to time, that certain members of the family were going down there to stay. My aunt had long since passed, but the family had retained the property as a vacation home. The next afternoon, there was an informal tea to which all the contributors were invited. Worth came, despite his busy schedule and told me how proud he was of what I’d accomplished. All the residents who were mobile were dressed in their best and once the contributors left, there was a grand opening party where everyone was permitted to move about freely, sample refreshments, play with

the crafts and to later take in the screening of Gone with the Wind, a local favorite. It was a long film and when it ended, many a nodded head was wheeled back to their room and gently put to bed. It was a great deal of excitement for them all. The next phase would include the outdoor gardens, fountains, horseshoe pits, shuffleboard, paddock and a shallow wading pool for those who weren’t bound to wheelchairs. All this would happen when the weather permitted, but for now, I was done. The timing was perfect. I got a phone call from the doctor ’s office and called Brandon to go with me. He was happy to do it. I felt I needed his strength, just in case.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX Auggie It was the end of the day when Brandon and I pulled into the doctor ’s office. We went through the rear entrance, as usual. Only this time, we waited in the doctor ’s private office. Dr. Stephens was elderly, but still up on the latest medical practices. He took care of many of the people in our circle and could be counted upon for his confidentiality. Brandon and I were seated and I was tapping my fingers on my bag. “Auggie, calm down. Whatever it is, we’ll deal with it. I promise you.” “This is my life we’re talking about, Brandon,” I chastised him, perhaps a little more vehemently than I should have, but I was scared to death. “I get that,” he said and looked away. I knew he wanted me. I knew that in his heart of hearts, he was hoping there was blood between Worth and me and he would win me by default. Dr. Stephens came in and took his seat. He slowly opened the manila folder with the report and pushed his glasses down low upon his nose while he read through the results. “Auggie, I believe you have your answer here. You are not related to Worth by blood,” he said simply and without dragging out the suspense. I exhaled the breath I’d been holding and tears of joy spilled down my cheeks. Brandon hugged me, albeit not as enthusiastically as I guessed he would have liked. “Does it tell anything else?” I asked. “Well, you definitely have origins in Britain, so as to your claim to the Earl, my guess is that’s pretty accurate.” I laughed at this — as if it made any difference. “Shall I forward Worth’s copy on to him?” Dr. Stephens asked. “Oh, no!” I was quick to jump in. “I’ll take it to him personally. This was sort of a gift, if you will. His birthday is coming up,” I hedged, unable to stop myself from continuing the lie. What was wrong with me? “Very well, here you go,” he said and handed me the stack of paper and the envelope. “Now if there’s anything else?” “Dr. Stephens, I’m on a sort of quest. I know you’re not at liberty to discuss anything like this, but I have reason to believe that I might have an older sibling living elsewhere. How would one go about narrowing the odds in finding out whether that is true?” Dr. Stephens folded his glasses and laid them down on his desk. “Auggie, I don’t think I have to tell you that doctors are bound by doctor/client privilege, meaning that I’m not at liberty to divulge anything about any one of my patients without their express written consent.” “Yes, I know. I wasn’t asking you to violate that, sir, I just thought you might offer some pointers about where I could start.”

“I see. Well, I suggest you begin at the source — the mother — and go from there.” He wasn’t looking at me directly and I could tell he knew more than he was able to say. “I’m afraid that isn’t a viable option,” piped up Brandon. “Then I might suggest that you look up birth records based on the mother ’s and/or father ’s name. Most of those are in computer databases now and it’s not difficult. The better you can narrow down the location of possible birth and the date, the further along you’ll get.” “Thank you, Dr. Stephens,” I said courteously and got up to leave. “Auggie,” he said behind me. “Don’t give up the search.” I swallowed hard, trying to keep the sudden emotion at bay. “I won’t, doctor.” It was a strange comment and it told me one thing. There had been another child. Now it was up to me to find him or her. Could I handle that? I hugged Brandon in the parking lot and dropped him off at his office. He loathed to see me go. “I will miss you, Auggie,” he said and I nodded. I couldn’t argue with him. I knew what he meant. I went back to Sunset Village and packed up my belongings. Before I left, I made a phone call. I knew my great-aunt had lived in Naples and I found a private detective there with a computer search. I hired him to track down whatever he could. I gave him my mother ’s personal information, the approximate year and then faxed him a copy of my DNA report. He seemed familiar with these and promised to keep in touch. Then I left to go home… to Worth.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN Worth I could tell that Auggie had been avoiding me. It bothered me that she didn’t just come right out and tell me what was wrong, but relied upon silly games like moving into a nursing home to distance me. Jeremy had delivered as promised and with a bit of time to spare. The grand opening wasn’t scheduled for two days and that left me an extra day to get acclimated. The movers had come and gone leaving in their wake the new furnishing for the entire clinic. There were waterfall walls and subtle environmental music playing throughout the building. There was a massage room with private booths and I’d already hired highly-trained staff for the entire facility. Two hot tubs were kept meticulously clean with cycling water and the highest quality chemicals that sterilized it on an ongoing basis. I’d hired a Chinese doctor who specialized in acupuncture and acupressure. I’d also added another psychologist who dealt only with children and a second who combined holistic screenings with talk therapy. I’d built a pink Himalayan salt room where you could relax and breath the re-ionized oxygen, environmental rooms where you could close your eyes and picture yourself either on a desert or in a rain forest and our sex therapy wing was set up for adults who wished to enhance or repair their intimacy through the use of talk therapy and physical touching techniques. Everything was of the highest quality and state-of-the-art. My clinic rivaled those of Switzerland but was far closer. We offered nutritional counseling and had weekly cooking classes to teach the use of organic foods; those with paleo or gluten-free needs and the science behind these so patients could make informed decisions for themselves. A moderately-sized health food store next door had been opened to my specifications and I stocked it with products that supported the healing concepts we prescribed. There was even a salon with highly-imaginative personal image consultants to treat the outer person at the same time. I had just locked the doors and pushed the button that closed blinds encased in all the windows. I heard a familiar tap and opened the door to see Auggie standing there. She crossed the threshold and threw herself into my waiting arms. “I missed you so much,” she kissed me breathlessly. “I want you,” she whispered and looked at me with those beautiful eyes I could not resist. At that moment, I couldn’t think of anyone or anything I wanted more than to be with her. I folded her legs around my waist and carried her into the hydrotherapy wing. I tapped flat panel controls and the murmurs of a tropical rain forest filled the room with surround sound quality. I kissed her mouth, her neck, her forehead and then slid her down to stand on the floor and undressed her. At the same time, she loosened my tie, opened my shirt, my pants and soon we were both standing naked to one another. I was touched to see she still wore my class ring on a chain around her neck. I lifted her and walked down the steps into the hot tub, its waters swirling and pulsating like the inside of a woman’s body. There was a gentle scent of lavender for calming and cushioned headrests built into the walls around the tub. It was here where I lay her down, her head suspended just above the water line and the long mantle of her gorgeous hair fanning out about her. I could not remember ever

seeing anything or anyone so beautiful. Her eyes mirrored the greens used in the decoration of the room, giving the illusion that her body was amorphous. My heart was pumping and I craved to be within her, to float and let the bubbles and pressured water punish our exterior while she cradled my essence. I wrapped my lips around her nipples, perky and inviting just above the water ’s line. I sucked her pink tips into my mouth as I moved my fingers across her mound, mimicking the rhythm. She closed her eyes and laid her head back, soft groans coming from deep in her chest. Then, she was upon me, pushing me back into one of the cushions and opening my legs until they straddled her waist. As I lay there, floating on the current, her mouth took me in as her delicate hands slid up and down my ass. She inserted a gentle finger and pushed from the back while her mouth pulled on the front. The effect was an erotic dimension I’d never entered before. “Auggie, I love you,” I called out and in response she sucked harder, taking every part of me into her mouth. When I could not stand the delay any longer, I grabbed her arms and pulled her up my body until she was seated upon my hard cock. The water ’s support lifted her to float easily as I gripped her hips, holding her still while I thrust up into her hard and fast. She answered this by gripping my thighs with hers, forcing herself downward while circling her hips. The warmth of her contrasted with the swirling waters and my body instinctively slid deeper within her. She cried out my name and it was the most erotic sound I could imagine. A nipple hard and tight as a little stone stabbed into my palm as I found her breasts again. I twisted it lightly and when she whimpered, I almost came with the sound. I wanted to hear that sound again. Whimpers. Moans. Screams. Cries. I wanted it all, so much the need stabbed at my heart. I bit down on her neck, teeth and tongue on her warm skin until I worried I’d left a mark. I was driving hard enough now that I had to hold her in place while her muscles quivered around me. She was so close. I scraped my teeth along the shell of her ear and whispered, “Touch yourself. Come for me, beautiful.” She dropped her hand and I felt her entire body jerk a moment later. I tightened my grip in her hair as she began to come, the orgasm making her body clench around me. Auggie was mine, had always been intended for me and would never be separated from me. It was then that I could hold back no longer and I filled her with my seed. She felt the rush and pulsed around me, the walls of her woman’s tunnel coaxing and yet sucking me within her. I was out of my consciousness with the pleasure. When it was over, I held her against my chest and petted her soft ass, lifting her from time to time to lick and suck her breasts. She clung to me, like a child separated from its mother. There was no question this was a reunion. There was no question it was meant to be. I climbed from the warmth of the water and donned one of the many terry robes hanging on hooks nearby. She gave me her hand and I pulled her out, cuddled her against my warm body beneath my robe and then wrapped her in one of her own. I took her into the rain forest environmental room and we lay naked upon the reclining sofas in there, wrapped in one another ’s arms. “I don’t want you to leave,” I told her. “I want to be with you too,” she murmured, half asleep against my bare chest.

“Auggie, I’m serious. The house got a late start and if the weather doesn’t improve, all the money in the world isn’t going to get it done in time. I’m going to take a condo nearby and I want you to live with me there. We’ll go in the morning and pick one out.” “But Worth, if we do that, people will know…” Her fingers dug into my skin and I felt her panic rising. “I don’t give a damn. I’m tired of living my life according to what keeps others in their happy little oblivion. This is my life, and your life, and when we’re apart, we seem to get into trouble. I want you in my bed every night where I can find you.” Auggie was silent a moment. I knew she was thinking about the impact this would have on her dad and the rest of her responsibilities at Sunset Village. She finally asked, “Can you buy me a real engagement ring?” I kissed her. “The biggest one I can find.” She snuggled closer and I almost fell asleep. It would have been a bit awkward if the workmen had found us there in the morning. I helped her get dressed, taking an especially long time getting her panties adjusted correctly. “I think they need more snuggling against you.” I smiled and pushed my finger through them into her. She almost squatted upon the invasion, and I knew she wanted to orgasm again. I picked her up and carried her into the massage room. There I laid her on one of the tables and slid off her panties. She was pink and wet, so gorgeous everywhere. She squirmed under my intent gaze and tried to close her legs. I stopped her, pushing them apart further and put my mouth on her, tasting her. She slid down to the end of the table and her fingers sank into my hair, pulling me closer. Her scent was heady as my tongue slid up her folds and my teeth found her clit. She wailed as I sucked it into my mouth. I concentrated on her swollen nub, sucking, alternating with a gentle, quick rub of my finger. The result had her in spasms almost immediately, tears of pleasure escaping her eyes. I knew then that we would always be good together. “I need to go home,” she said finally and grinned. “You’ve rubbed me raw.” I laughed because I knew she’d let me do it again if I wanted to. I bent and kissed her swollen nub. “This,” I kissed it again, “belongs to me and I don’t want it worn off. Be a good girl and get dressed before I change my mind.” We grabbed snacks from the kitchen and Auggie left to go home. I busied myself tidying up after us and was quite contented as I locked up that night. *** Auggie met me at the office early the next morning and I could see her blush a bit as she remembered our lovemaking from the night before. “I’ll do that to you every night, sweetheart,” I whispered in her ear before she climbed into my car. I’d garaged the Porsche and bought a new Escalade. It was cream white with a white leather interior and it floated down the snow-roughened streets. I had a newly constructed condo development in mind. I preferred new living environments and after checking in at the office, they showed us a unit that had just been completed. It had four bedrooms and baths, a huge kitchen and a great room on the top level. There was a fifth bedroom downstairs with a family room, laundry, and a bar. It seemed to be plenty large and the amenities were superb, so I bought it on the spot. “When can we move in?” I asked. “You have the key, Dr. LaViere. I can process the paperwork immediately, so feel free to move in

any time.” Auggie was terribly excited. “I’ve never lived away from my parents except at the dorm,” she marveled. “Would it be all right to leave the movers to you and let me go shopping for furniture and accessories?” she asked with genuine excitement. “Go and shop away. When you come home, message me and I’ll send someone out to carry in your purchases. But first, I have something for you,” I said and pulled her back into the Escalade. “Close your eyes.” She did as she was told. “Okay, now open them.” She gasped. I was dangling a set of car keys to her own, butter yellow Escalade. A huge, emerald cut diamond ring set in platinum was hanging on the key ring. “Worth! It’s gorgeous!” she squealed and I extracted it and slid it on her left hand. “When did you have a chance to go and pick this out?” “I picked it out the day after you first came into my office.” She looked at me, amazement on her face. “Now, let’s have no more nonsense about worrying what people think. You have the right to have all the excitement every woman does when she’s newly engaged. We have nothing to hide,” I pointed out and she agreed.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT Auggie I discovered I liked everything about the idea of setting up housekeeping. I realized that until now, I’d been just camping on other peoples’ properties, including my parents’ and even though Mother would surely be fit to be tied when she found out, this would belong to Worth and consequently, to me. I knew that Worth liked modern furnishings so I set off for a few of the best stores and allowed their interior designers to show me some ideas. I chose what appealed to me and what I thought Worth would like, and ordered it loaded into a truck and delivered immediately. I spent hours in the department stores picking out linens, appliances, dishes; everything that was needed to stock a house. My Escalade wouldn’t hold it all, so I ordered it to be delivered and then proceeded on to the next stop that would fill my car — the grocery. While I’d never been the one to prepare the meals since Mother always had help, I did learn to cook and really rather liked it. Stocking a kitchen from scratch was an undertaking and I filled two entire carts to the brim. These were carried out to the car and I headed toward the apartment. When I arrived, the first load of furniture had already come and I was thrilled to find Worth’s friend and designer, Jeremy, standing by. Worth knew I would have my hands full and asked Jeremy to give one of his. Jeremy also brought two assistants from his own staff to help. The trucks continued to arrive in succession. I was in heaven as Jeremy and I pointed every time a new delivery man entered the condo. While Jeremy pulled things together with his assistants, I focused on the kitchen so I would know where everything was when it came time to cook. I threw together a huge wok of stir-fry and when Worth entered the house early that evening, his mouth dropped open. “My god… I can’t believe this is the same place!” he said, filled with pride. “And you cooked? Aren’t you exhausted?” I nodded proudly, and we all sat down to eat a plate of food and finish up a few of the design elements before Jeremy and his staff left for the night. “Be sure and let me know if you need anything more,” Jeremy called over his shoulder. “Bill me!” Worth called after him and Jeremy flipped him the middle finger. Worth locked up but I was already in the shower when he made it to the bedroom. He called to me that he would shower in another bath and I smiled. I loved this domestic feeling of togetherness. I knew I would never again feel alone. I met Worth in the bedroom and he smiled. “Your hair is still damp and you look adorable.” “I’m so exhausted I can’t see straight,” I confessed. “This was harder than riding the course all afternoon. I guess I’m out of shape.” “Are you kidding? Look at all you accomplished!” he praised me. “Come here, let me hold you and you just go to sleep.” His words were honey to my ears. Worth laid back the covers and slid into the bed, holding his arms out to me. I crawled in against his chest and his long arms enfolded me. I leaned up to kiss him and it was warm, moist and deep. This must be what the essence of life is all about.

*** The next morning, Worth left early. His clinic was having its grand opening that evening. I had so many things to do around the house, I wasn’t planning on getting there until just before it opened. I wouldn’t miss it for anything, though. Jeremy’s crew had worked wonders throughout the condo. I still wanted my personal touch on things and that’s what I enjoyed doing most. That afternoon, Worth returned, showered and dressed in one of his best suits. I had dinner waiting and had dressed as well. We shared steaks and salad and then headed to the clinic. It was magnificent and there were already people in the parking lot. It was a catered affair. Champagne and hors d’oeuvres were being served by waiters in tuxedos and there were plenty of energy-building, healthy food options at stations throughout the building. I was wearing my ring and a good many people saw it, then huddled off to discuss what it meant. No one dared to ask. For the time being, it was more enjoyable to speculate and gossip about it among themselves. I clung to Worth’s side as we stood near the entrance to welcome in newcomers. I was holding his hand when I felt Worth stiffen. I looked up and saw a man and woman entering — a man who was a stockier, grayer version of the man beside me. His father.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE Worth I knew he would come, although I went out of my way to avoid inviting him. He had come to inspect my kingdom, to level arrogant disdain over what I had built. He was in for an even bigger surprise. Auggie was at my side and she was wearing my engagement ring. He looked me straight in the eye, nodded and then wandered off to look around. Mother hugged me and I introduced her to Auggie. Mother ’s eye caught the huge ring on Auggie’s left hand and she gave Auggie an even bigger hug. She was smiling and enjoying herself. Father had completed his tour and was approaching. Mother intercepted him, whispered in his ear and his eyes immediately went to Auggie’s hand. Auggie smiled, her eyes welcoming but Father looked her over and walked out the door. Mother was confused, embarrassed and shrugged at me as she followed him out. I wanted to wring his neck. How dare he ignore Auggie! How dare he ruin our special night. I fought to keep control of my emotions, looking down at Auggie and seeing a deep sadness in her eyes. For some reason, she didn’t seem surprised, however. There was an understanding in her eyes and a sympathy for me. I hugged her and moved on to greet other guests. I would deal with my father later. The night turned out to be an overwhelming success. We received extensive press coverage from not only the local media but from health, mind and body publications who wanted to cover a story of a clinic that combined so many therapies in one location. The appointment book was instantly filled and the ambiance was one of happiness and good health, even without treatment. I was content. I had Auggie and I had my life’s dream. My father could go to hell. Auggie was quiet as we left after the grand opening. Aside from some staff who were cleaning up, the guests had all departed. “You didn’t know he was coming?” she asked me, holding my hand as we walked through the parking lot. “I hoped he wouldn’t hear about it, but knew it was an unreasonable hope.” “What do you want to do about it?” Her eyes were large and questioning. “I need to have a face down with him,” I told her. “When?” “Why not right now?” I said and tucked her into the passenger seat and climbed behind the steering wheel, slamming my door. There was an occasional snowflake but the roads were otherwise clear as we headed to the farm. When we arrived, the house was still brightly lit. I knew he’d be up. He never went to bed early. “Do you want to come in?” I asked Auggie. “Of course. If it affects you, it affects me,” she told me, squeezing my hand. “Get ready for anything,” I cautioned her and we knocked at the door before entering. Father was sitting in his study, the door opened and the light from his desk lamp spilling onto the woven carpet. There was a decanter of bourbon on the desk before him. Mother came down from

upstairs and frowned at me, shaking her head to indicate this wasn’t a good time. I smiled, patted her hand and pushed past her. He looked up as we entered. “You may as well sit down,” he said, eyeing Auggie as she took the matching wingback to mine. “I understand that congratulations are in order,” he growled, taking a swig from his glass. “You drink?” he held a glass out toward Auggie but she shook her head. He started to offer it to me and changed his mind, slamming it down on his desk. “What in the hell is the matter with you, boy?” he shouted, causing Auggie to jump and I heard Mother gasp behind me. “There are ladies present,” I pointed out but it didn’t seem to affect his disposition one way or another. “They can leave if they can’t take it,” was his surly response. He puffed his cigar and tapped the ashes onto the surface of his hand-carved cherry desk. “So, what the hell do you want? My congratulations? My permission? Pretty damned sure you’re not here for that,” he barked. “We aren’t here for anything other than to clear the air,” I said quietly. “Save the shrink crap, Worth. That shit won’t work with me,” he snapped. “What will work, Father? I’ve spent my life trying to please you and seem to always fall short. You’ve made my life a hell. I accept responsibility for the drinking and the carousing, but you have to man up and tell me just what the hell is so wrong with me. The time has come and the women in our lives are standing by. I want them to hear it from your lips.” “Hear what from my lips, damn you! You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. Let it lie, Worth. Let it lie.” “That’s the whole problem, Father. It has been nothing but a lie, all these years. Tell Mother why you hate me. Let Auggie know, now, before she marries me and still has a chance to get away. Tell the damned truth for once in your life!” I shouted, louder than I realized. “Damn you, Worth! Damn you to hell! You want to hear it? Okay, then here it is. It was you who should have died. You who should have rolled that car in one of your drunken races, but no…. you have the devil guarding you, don’t you, boy?” “Why should it have been me?” I snarled. I was a rabid dog. “Because!” he shouted, pounding the desk. “Linc was the better man. He had the best of me in him! The best of me and the best… the best…” his voice halted. “The best of whom, Father?” “The best of her damned mother!” he roared, pointing at Auggie. I’d known it, of course. I’d finally put together the connection of the red-haired Jezebel, who had reacted so strongly to meeting me along with Auggie’s discovery of the photos in the album. I had suspected he was hiding something all these years and when I realized that his hatred was not inspired by anything I’d done, but instead by what had happened to Linc, it all clicked. I heard a loud thump behind me and looked around the wing chair to see Mother had fainted. Father just sat at his desk, puffing his cigar and looking at her. I was on my feet, as was Auggie, and I took her vital signs. She had just passed out from the shock. I lifted her and carried her upstairs to her room. She began to come to and as the memory of what she’d just heard began to flood back, she started crying. I sat with Mother for some time and Auggie found her night things. I found a vial of sleeping pills in her nightstand and gave her one, pocketing the rest just in case. I left as Auggie helped her change. She waited until Mother fell asleep and then joined me downstairs.

“You’ve made a pretty fine mess of things,” Father said to me. “Does Auggie’s mother know that Linc was her son?” I asked quietly. “No, nobody knew. I knew when she disappeared what had happened and had her tracked to her aunt’s. When she put Linc up for adoption at birth, my agent was there. I told your mother he was the son of a friend who had been killed in a car accident and had the adoption papers to prove it. I didn’t need them. He was already my son,” he blurted the story, anger, and a deep, depressed pain coloring his words. I looked at Auggie. With Mother ’s fainting, I’d not had a chance to deal with her and the shock she must be feeling. She seemed nonplussed. I guessed. “You knew, didn’t you, darling?” I asked her. She shifted in her chair. “I knew about their affair but have been trying to track the resulting child. Now I know. She rose to her feet and walked toward Father ’s desk. She leaned forward, picking up the decanter and the glass of bourbon, pouring herself a full glass. Setting the decanter down, she looked at Father, who was watching her. “You’re a bastard,” she commented quietly and threw the bourbon into his face. She set the glass down, looked at me and said, “I’ll be in the car,” as she passed me on her way out of the house. I stood, looking at the gray-haired, corpulent fraud before me. “I couldn’t have said it better myself,” I said in a level voice and followed Auggie out of the house. She had the Escalade running and soft classical music playing. The glow from the dash lit her features and I could see big tears running down her cheeks. I put my arms around her and said, “I’m sorry you had to witness that, but that was the best way to get it over with. Let’s put it behind us and start our own life now.” “I need to tell you something,” she said quietly. “Go ahead,” I urged her. “I knew about Mother and your father, but I didn’t know about Linc. Mrs. Jessup told me they’d had an affair and that Mother had disappeared for the winter, supposedly to Florida. I didn’t have an exact year and wasn’t sure what happened to the child who everyone suspected she was off having. I stole your toothbrush and that document I asked you to sign granted your permission to have your DNA tested and compared to mine. I had to make sure we weren’t of the same blood before I could be with you. I was in hell, Worth… in hell. It’s why I was avoiding you. I just found out two days ago that there was no connection. I’m sorry for misleading you, but I needed to know, obviously, and didn’t want to expose anyone’s secrets.” Worth nodded, considering the logic of her explanation. “I noticed my toothbrush was gone and thought it had fallen in the trash and been thrown out. I knew there was some reason you were avoiding me, Auggie, but I let my jealousy lead me to think it was Knotts.” She shook her head. “It’s always been you, Worth. I loved you from the moment I walked into your office.” I lifted her face and kissed her softly and then harder as she molded herself to my chest. There was redemption in her clinging. She was suffering the same pain I was going through and yet the two of us were the only comfort either of us could have. “I love you, Auggie,” I said and she nodded. “I love you, Worth,” she returned and I kissed her again. “Will you tell your mother?” I asked her. She shook her head. “I won’t. She’s had her own version of hell all these years. If she knew her son had only been a few miles away and then was killed, it would be too cruel. Not just for her, but

mostly for Dad.” “I think you’re right and if she finds out, it won’t be from either of us. At least we both know why they’ve been the parents they’ve been… and it had nothing to do with either of us. Linc is gone so there are no ties between them.” “Let’s go home,” Auggie suggested and I agreed, putting the vehicle into drive and leaving the farm for what might very well turn out to be the last time.

CHAPTER THIRTY Auggie W orth and I spent the winter pulled in opposite directions. His clinic had become all the rage and he extended the hours to accommodate the demand. I could tell it was wearing him down and urged him to bring in another psychologist to help with the load. I spent my days in a rotation between supervising the construction of the new house, Sunset Village activities and my new love of homemaking. At night, Worth and I climbed into our bed, exhausted and had fallen into a routine of a kiss, hug and falling asleep. Neither of us were happy with this, but for the time being, it was our life. I had cooked a roast with potatoes and vegetables and taken the time to make homemade dinner rolls. Worth came in, circles of exhaustion beneath his eyes. During dinner, I brought up the topic. “Worth, this is silly. Success is one thing but killing yourself isn’t worth it.” “I’ve already begun looking for another doctor,” he informed me, picking at his food. “I’m afraid you’ll get sick,” I urged again. “I said I have already started looking!” he said, slamming down his fork and leaping up from the table. I heard the bedroom door slam and sat there, shaking at what had just happened. I had never seen Worth lose his temper like that. I hoped he would come back shortly, apologetic and we could finish dinner but there was no sound from the bedroom. I quietly finished eating and then cleaned up, shutting off the kitchen light and settling on the sofa to watch a bit of television and get my nerves settled. Worth never emerged. Sad, I finally decided to go to sleep in one of the extra rooms and climbed between the covers, lonely and wanting to cry. There was no movement or sound from the bedroom. Eventually, I fell asleep and when I awakened the next morning, I checked on Worth, but he had already gone. That night he came in and it was a resumption of the night before. We ate dinner but silence commanded the table. He wasn’t angry — he was simply stone cold. This bothered me more than a little. This wasn’t the calm, resourceful Worth I knew. Why was he becoming so rough, so temperamental? “I slept in the other room because I thought you needed some space,” I said in as empathetic tone as I could muster, given the hurt I was feeling. “I know.” Two words that I could translate a hundred ways. He knew why I slept elsewhere and didn’t care? He didn’t care if I was hurting? He understood that he was being cold and dismissive to me. What did he know? “Is this about your father?” I tried once more to break open the shell and encourage him to talk. “No.” I couldn’t make myself ask the next question. This wasn’t the time or the point in our relationship. I had too much to learn about this man I was now living with. There were times he took me to the

pinnacle of happiness and other times when I looked into the pits of hell. I needed to give this time to become more familiar; more time for me to learn what he needed from me. He might say it wasn’t about his father, but I knew differently. His father had literally wished Worth dead in lieu of his illegitimate son. I could not begin to imagine what Worth’s mother must be going through right now, to learn that she’d been the victim of lies. Lies have a way of becoming a habit and if Worth’s father had perpetrated one, then there were dozens, if not more, atop it. I thought of my own dad and wondered whether he knew about Mother ’s indiscretion. If he did, how could he live with that, day after day, especially considering the way she treated him? If anything, my admiration for my dad grew at that moment. Even if he didn’t know the specifics, he was living with the hell she’d created with her guilt. How could he do that? “You want to talk?” I finally asked, exasperated. “No, nothing to talk about,” was his short response. I was trying not to take this personally, but it was tremendously hard to stand by and be dismissed like this and not wonder if I’d done something wrong. I would bide my time, however. My time, as it came to be more obvious, was going to be of an extended duration. Worth’s demeanor was not confrontational, but distant and very cool. I took up semi-permanent residence in the guest room, even going so far as to move in a share of my clothes and toiletries. He never said a word. I began to wonder whether I should move out entirely, but there didn’t seem to be an opportunity to even discuss that. Winter was receding and the first signs of spring were advancing. The new house was going exceedingly well. I drove there daily and made the A or B decisions that Beverly put to me. She and I had decided at the outset that one of us had to be the boss, to have the overall knowledge of what needed to happen and in the proper sequence and it was more or less obvious that would be her. I was fine with that. My job would come later in determining the furnishings and fixtures and she kept me busy picking out tile, appliances, carpets and window dressings. The recessive Worth never showed up at the house and I began to wonder whether his heart was still in it. Even Beverly alluded to his absence from time to time and I knew she wanted to know whether there was something wrong. I avoided the topic, commenting on how busy he was. It had been some time since I’d been to the clinic and the afternoon was gorgeous. The dogwood were just beginning to bud and it smelled like spring, particularly as the sun warmed the bluegrass. I had been at my parents’ farm, riding Carlos and brushing his winter coat away. I was feeling in an unusually perky mood. It was certainly brighter than the atmosphere at home. So, on a whim, as I left the farm, I drove to the clinic. The parking lot was packed and while this made me happy that Worth was enjoying such success, I could also see that this is where his life had turned. I walked in to find several people milling about, on their way from one therapy to another. Most were women, my age through a couple of decades older. They were well dressed, wearing designer athletic clothing and sporting diamond stud earrings. A few nodded in my direction, but I got the idea they were just being polite and really had no idea who I was. In fact, I knew almost no one who was at the clinic, employee or otherwise. I checked with the receptionist who told me Worth was in with a patient and suggested I have a seat in the juice bar. I did as she suggested and took a stool, ordering a green drink perhaps because spring was well on its way. On the stool nearby was a very attractive blonde woman built like a dancer and dressed in a threepiece suit as opposed to the athletic clothing everyone else wore. I assumed she was a talk-therapy

patient only. I nodded toward her and said hello. She smiled and spoke. “You seem very familiar to me, but I’m new in town and surely we haven’t met before?” “Really?” I said. “I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure…” “I’m Deb Hunt,” she said, thrusting her hand forward. I shook it briefly and tried to find a connection but nothing came to mind. “I’m sure I’ve seen you,” she said and then a lightbulb must have gone off for her. “Of course! You’re with Dr. LaViere… his fiancé, is that correct?” I nodded. Our picture had been in all the papers following the grand opening and that was likely where she’d seen me. “Yes, I am. Are you one of Worth’s patients?” I asked, hoping it wasn’t unethical for me to ask, but she had more or less started this guessing game. “Oh, no, I’m his colleague,” she said, laughing. “I should have introduced myself better. I’m Dr. Deborah Hunt. I’ve been working here with Worth for the last month. Didn’t he tell you?” I was flabbergasted. “No, he hadn’t mentioned it,” I said to her as well as to myself and my discomfort must have been evident because she picked up on it instantly. “It probably slipped his mind,” she filled in the horrible gap. “He’s been so busy here at the clinic.” She blushed, realizing that if anyone knew how busy he’d been, it would be his fiancé. “Well, I’m glad he has you to depend upon,” I made a stab at something pleasant to say. There was the decided air of two females circling one another, looking for the advantage to take the other down. It had already been pre-determined between us that we would not be friends. The only question remained whether we could keep from becoming enemies. My drink tasted sour at that moment and I said, “Well, I have to run. Pleasure meeting you.” Her baby blue eyes sparkled. She was exactly Worth’s type; tall, leggy and beautiful. She was probably also very qualified as a doctor, a fact which made her doubly poisonous. I left the stool and smiled at the receptionist as I left the clinic. I climbed into my car, feeling as though I’d just caught Worth in bed with another woman. My happiness with the sunshine and warm day was destroyed and in its wake was a sour taste from that horrid drink. Now I knew why Worth had shut me off, why he didn’t care if I slept with him or was a part of his life. He was consumed with his clinic, his aspirations, his control and now, his partner. They were validations that he wasn’t a failure, wasn’t a black sheep and the undesired son of a powerful man he’d tried his entire life to please. I also now understood who I was. I was the daughter of the woman who had destroyed his life. My mother had helped produce the offspring that his father wanted as an heir, and could not acknowledge. Every time Worth looked at me, he saw my mother. He was distancing himself from everything that hurt… and that included me. We weren’t blood to one another. It was something far worse. I had become his enemy.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE Auggie I drove home through a stream of tears and with each mile, the resolution in my willful soul strengthened. I pulled into a tire store and as I waited, they welded a trailer hitch onto the back of the Escalade. I drove back to the condo knowing I had at least two hours before Worth was due home. I had come to a decision. It wasn’t what I wanted to do but every time in my life that something threatened, I retreated. It was the way I coped with things I could not change. I packed an assortment of clothing and shoes and stowed these in the back of the car. I gathered up my personal papers and my laptop, and I left my engagement ring and Worth’s class ring on his dresser. I stopped by the phone store and bought a new cell with a private number. As I drove to the farm, I called Dad to meet me in the stable. He was there when I arrived. I hugged him. “Dad, I don’t want to go into details, but I admire you more than any man alive. I’m going to text you one time from a new phone number and I’m asking you not to give it to anyone, not even Mother and most especially, not to Worth. I’m leaving and taking Carlos with me. I’ll be fine. I don’t know where I’m going but I need to be on my own. I hope you will understand.” Dad looked at me with tears in his gentle eyes and he understood something dark must be behind this move. He and I had always shared a mutual understanding; we were very much alike. I wondered again how he could have spent these years with a creature like my mother. He helped me hitch the trailer to the Escalade and to load Carlos and all the feed, grooming equipment, saddle, and blankets I would need. He hugged me, hard, and kissed me on the cheek and then turned and walked to the house so he wouldn’t have to watch me drive away. As I pulled down the drive, I threw my old cell toward Mother ’s bedroom window. It was symbolic as in giving her my old life and claiming my own. Let her deal with the questions. I doubted Worth would barely notice and chances are he would feel a distinct relief. There was a thunderstorm building in from the west as I crossed the Ohio River and headed in its direction. It seemed very fitting, considering the turmoil my life was in at the moment. Typically, I loved storms, but, this time, was a little different. I was pulling a nervous horse in a trailer and was on roads that weren’t familiar to me. I could feel the wind picking up whenever the road led slightly north or south, catching me on the broadside. I was fighting the wheel, trying not to over-correct as it spun around the vehicle. I chose the right lane and cut my speed down to forty-five mph, but it was still a bit dicey. I finally gave in and took an exit. Ahead of me was a building that appeared to be a small factory that had since shut down. At least it had plenty of room for the trailer, so that’s where I headed. I got out of the Escalade and could hear Carlos knocking around, so I opened the trailer enough to climb in with him. There was barely enough room for him and I was afraid he might lunge and knock me into the trailer side. The safest place I could think of was to sit astride, so I got a toe hold and boosted myself

up. I laid flat on his back, rubbing his sides with my hand. The storm picked up and while I generally reveled in their fury, this was bordering on the extreme. At one point, it felt like the trailer even lifted and slammed back down. I even managed to snicker a bit, seeing myself and Carlos in the trailer, spinning out of control as it flew to Oz. I knew, without a doubt, who would play the witch. Eventually, the worst of it passed and I backed Carlos out and walked him around the parking lot and into the side grass a bit, letting him cool from the rain and get a sense of himself again. I wasn’t certain where we were, but it was a remote, rural area of southern Indiana. Not a single vehicle had passed us the entire time, so I thought this was as good a place as any to spend the night. Carlos went back to his trailer temporarily, and I into mine. I laid the seat flat and covered up with my jacket. I had never known such a sad, lonely feeling as I did that night. It was as if all the grief I’d ever felt throughout my life settled on my shoulders at the same time and weighed me down so heavily, I could barely breathe. I cried hard, hard tears… so hard that my chest ached afterwards. How could Worth abandon me like this? I really thought he loved me and would not let his father drive a wedge between us, but apparently I didn’t know him as well as I thought I did. All the plans I had envisioned — the house, sleeping with Worth each and every night, our children playing in the yard and taking their first riding lessons — it was all gone now. It was just Carlos and me and the open road. There was a tapping noise that awakened me and I was startled at first. I opened my eyes and it took me a moment to orient myself. There was a police officer standing next to the vehicle. I rolled down the window. “Good morning,” I said sleepily. “Miss,” he acknowledged and tipped his hat. “May I see your driver ’s license and registration, please?” he asked. I fumbled in my purse for my wallet and found the registration in the glove box. “Here you are.” “Where are you headed?” he asked and I began to cry again. “I don’t know,” I wailed. “Ma’am, why don’t you step out of the car a moment,” he said, opening the door handle as I unlocked it. “Am I in trouble?” I asked, tears streaming. “I’m sorry… it was the storm last night. The trailer was all over the road and I thought it would be safer to find somewhere to park and this place looked deserted and I only meant to stay a couple of hours and then I fell asleep…” I rambled on and on, and he tipped back his hat. “Ms. Langford,” he said, looking at my license. “Are you in trouble?” I blinked. “Well, that’s what I asked you.” “You shouldn’t be parked here without permission of the owner but there haven’t been any complaints filed and its private property so I don’t have jurisdiction. What I mean to ask is whether there is something wrong? You seem pretty out of sorts.” “I broke up with my fiancé and I’m leaving town,” I offered by way of explanation and he nodded. “Sure you shouldn’t maybe turn around and head back? Maybe you two can work it out and you’ll be a whole lot safer than draggin’ that horse behind you.” “No, no… I’ll be fine. I know horses, officer. Carlos has been mine for some time. I’ll head west, I guess,” I finished lamely.

“Well, if you’re set on that, I suggest that you move on now and pull over at a motel where you can walk the horse a bit and get yourself some decent sleep. Things always look better after a good night’s sleep.” He handed back my ID. “Yes, sir, I’ll move on now,” I said and climbed back into the Escalade. I smiled and nodded at him as I circled around and pulled back onto the highway. I drove maybe twenty-five miles before I came to a small town that had a large city parking lot. I guess some building had to be torn down and they had nothing better to do with it. I pulled in and saw a country restaurant across the street. I stepped into the trailer long enough to make sure Carlos had something to eat and drink and then I grabbed my bag and headed for the restaurant. They were having a special, it seemed. The sign, however, was years old so I guess it was more of a permanent special. It read, “Two eggs n’ bacon $2.99” and that sounded fine to me so I ordered it. I wandered to the paper rack by the door and bought a Louisville Courier Journal. My heart ached as I realized what I was leaving behind. Louisville was the only place I’d ever called home. I paged through the paper, looking at ads and the marriage announcements and finally came across an ad for Worth’s clinic. This took the bottom out from under me. I slammed the paper shut and with resolve, finished my breakfast and left. I drove west for three days, sleeping in the reclining seat of the Escalade and finding places in the country where I could walk Carlos and even ride him a bit in the most rural areas. I could never leave him. He and I had been through so much together. He was like family. I only made one phone call and it was from a phone booth in a gas station along the way. I called Todd Green and got his voicemail, which was exactly what I’d hoped for. I left him a message. “Todd, this is Auggie. I’m okay and doing what I need to do. If anyone reports me missing, refer them to Dad. I’m not running away. I’m looking for someone.” Once I hit Missouri and crossed the Mississippi River, I knew I was in a different part of the world. Gone were the fields of bluegrass. Gone were the friendly people and the horse farms where I knew I could find refuge if I needed to. I headed for Kansas City. At least I knew there were ranches there… somewhere. I found myself eventually in Colorado, in a small town called Creede. It was only just awakening from the winter and preparing for the influx of tourists who came each summer. Names from western lore peppered its past: Bat Masterson, Calamity Jane and the man who shot Jesse James in the back of the head as he hung a portrait. It suited me perfectly. I’d always felt an attachment to the West and remembered watching old black and white westerns on the television in the family room. I always loved anything that had to do with horses, naturally. Outside of town, I found a ranch where Carlos could board and not far away was a row of rundown apartments that seemed to suit my mood. They were called Creede Row and although they rented by the week, I paid in advance for a month. I’d temporarily had my fill of designer furniture and glitter for the sake of public opinion. On the kick of budget living, I found a Dollar General Store and bought myself some bedding, which I rolled up in on the motel bed at night. I’d also bought some sneakers and jeans with cotton, button-up blouses. That was when I found the western store and added to my wardrobe, including a suede hat. I was lucky enough to find a job with a tourist business that gave stagecoach rides through the summer season. I knew how to handle horses, of course, and I suppose my derrière was an additional asset from the driver ’s seat — I wasn’t deluded. It was fun, though, and I could dress in the clothes I loved best and in the evenings, I visited Carlos and took care of him. The season was only just

beginning and there were long periods when no one wanted to ride. During these times, I drove the coach around town and a bit toward the highway where people speeding by might be lured to stop and give it a try. It was a late morning and I was returning to town. The coach was empty and the skies were darkening in the distance as they did most afternoons on this side of the mountain. I came upon a Lexus that appeared to be broken down alongside the road. There were a pair of long, male legs extending from beneath it, clad in a pair of what looked to be expensive trousers. As I approached, he was struggling to push out from beneath the car and as he stood, I could tell he was quite tall. I slowed and nodded as he began to flail his arms to catch my attention. “Trouble?” I asked as I reined in the team and stopped. “I’ll say. I was hoping for a car to pass by but there isn’t much traffic on this road. I never expected a stagecoach, though,” he said, smiling. There was a rumble from the approaching storm. “I don’t have my cell with me, but I’ll be glad to give you a lift into town or send someone out when I get in. Lightning scissored the sky and the thunder was immediate, causing us both to start a bit and the horses jumped as well. They wanted to get back to their stables and could not care less whether there was a disabled traveler at stake. “You know, if you don’t mind, I’ll ride with you but I’d like to ride up front on the seat with you. Is that permitted? I’ve always wanted to know what it felt like to handle a team.” I thought about it, chewing my bottom lip. “Well, it’s not in the rulebook but if you promise to jump down and climb into the coach just as we hit town, I won’t tell. You like horses?” I asked, scooting a bit so he could heft himself up to the seat. “Oh, yes, although Arabs are more my breed,” he said. He stuck out his hand. “Ben Trax is my name… and you are?” “You can call me Auggie,” I said, shaking his hand. “We’d better get started.” As another streak of lightning brightened the sky, I slapped the reins. “Mind if I take the reins a minute?” he asked. “Okay, but the horses are antsy from that storm coming in and it’s against the rules. You wouldn’t want me to get fired, would you?” I asked, grinning. “Just once and for a moment,” he pleaded and I handed them over. It was as if a magic spell descended over the team. Their ears relaxed and they fell into step as if choreographed. A lightning bolt struck a tree about a half mile ahead and the thunder was loud enough to break a nearby eardrum, but the horses hardly flinched. “Are you sure you’ve never done this before?” I asked him, amazed. “You’re a natural.” “Never. I do seem to have a way with horses, though. Have all my life. Wish I were as good with cars… and with women,” he added and turned to wink at me. How long had it been since I’d seen a man smile at me? I felt a pang for Worth, but I knew he was a figure who belonged in my past. We weren’t far from town so I nudged him and took back the reins. “I’m going to stop now and you need to scramble into the back. Where can I drop you?” I asked him. “A service station would be a good start,” he said and winked again. I nodded and reined in the horses long enough for him to jump down and get into the coach. I took a side street where I’d seen a service station and pulled up.

Ben climbed out and held up a twenty. “No, no,” I said. “You didn’t get the whole tour. Go on in there and they’ll take care of you, I’m sure. Nice to meet you, Ben.” I grinned and snapped the reins, leaving him standing there with his hand still outstretched. I returned the coach and horses and was brushing them down when I heard steps behind me. Thinking it was my employer, I didn’t turn but said, “Hand me the hoof pick, would you? I think we picked up a stone.” A tanned hand with an expensive wristwatch appeared at my side, a hoof pick extended. I turned and there stood Ben Trax. I was surprised, to say the least. “Hello…?” I ventured. “I’m sorry, I know this is kind of weird, but you’re the only person I’ve met in town, except for Shorty at the repair shop. He tells me he can’t tow it in until the storm passes and it will be tomorrow until he can take a look at it. I’m a stranger here, as you know, and wondered if I could trade you a dinner for a guided tour of the town. I have no idea where to stay or eat, for that matter.” I stood upright and considered him. There was no doubt he seemed friendly and honest, but I was alone and there was no one looking out for me. It paid to be cautious. He sensed my hesitation. “Please?” he repeated. I nodded and turned back to my work. “Take a seat where you can find one and I’ll be ready in a few minutes,” I said, but instead, he came up and got between the horse and me, put his shoulder against the animal and lifted its leg so as to hold the hoof. “Hand me the pick,” he said. I did so without thinking and he quickly removed the stone, patted the horse’s leg and then its flank. “There, that should do it,” he said, handing me the lead. “You seemed to know what you were doing,” I commented. “I’m a vet,” he said succinctly. Now, having grown up in the equine industry in Kentucky, we were more impressed by large animal vets than human neurosurgeons. The better vets were impossible to get to and we considered them gods. I finished up with the horses and showed Ben out to my car. I’d lost all anxiety about him strangely and felt a kinship. He got in. “Nice car, Kentucky plates,” he observed. “Want to talk about it?” I looked at him sideways, a lock of his sandy-colored hair had fallen down into his eyes, giving him a very boyish look in a man’s lanky body. “About what?” I asked as innocently as I could. “Come on, Auggie. It’s all over you. Your name is short for Augusta. Hardly a name you find at Wal-Mart. Your hair has never been colored or permed, you walk with the kind of assurance that says you’re well-bred, wear little makeup so you’re not trying to impress anyone and you know your way around horses, which is not a poor man’s hobby. We won’t even talk about the fact that you’re working for a tourist trap and driving an eighty-thousand-dollar car. How’s that for starters?” he finished. “Judging by that new hitch on the back, I guess you’ve got a horse and trailer parked around here somewhere, too.” My mouth was hanging open. “How did you know all that?” He laughed, a sound that was deep and musical. “Told you, I have a way with creatures. They sense who they can trust and you have to read them well to earn that trust,” he explained. “Have I read you well?”

I sat there, the car still in park. “Astoundingly well,” I said. “I’m going to hazard a guess and say Louisville or Lexington, although you probably went to UK.” “God, are you some kind of a psychic?” He just laughed and pointed forward. “C’mon, let me buy you dinner. On second thought, I’ll bet you’ve got a trust fund somewhere. I’ll let you buy me dinner,” he joked and I instantly liked him. I pulled up to a diner I’d found and we went inside, choosing a corner booth away from the noisy door. He waited until I’d been seated and then slid in. “So, what is his name?” I gaped at him and he reached over and tapped the white line on my left hand. “Looks like the width of an engagement ring and not a wedding set.” “You should be Sherlock Holmes,” I commented and stirred the straw around in my soft drink. “So, I’ve been told,” he said wryly. “Why, don’t people appreciate your talents?” I queried. “People like to believe in the art of their own illusion. They want others to believe what they want them to believe.” Worth’s words came rushing back to me. “Huh, yes, I know someone else who has that opinion.” “Aha! Now we’re getting somewhere. He’s a philosopher? A psychology professor?” “You’re getting very close… a psychologist,” I illuminated the guess. “Hmmm… well, he should be smart enough and well-trained enough to be able to hang on to a prize like you. What in the hell happened?” Our dinners came then and there was a lull as we both put ketchup on our fries. “It’s a long and emotionally-woven story and mostly has to do with other people. I’m here to forget all about that, anyway.” I was trying to tell him I didn’t want to talk about it. “Are you? Well, considering you’re fairly young and have your full brain capacity, how long do you think it will take before you’ve forgotten all about him? A hundred years, maybe?” I frowned. “Are you trying to be contrary or do you come by it naturally?” “Oh, it’s natural. I suppose I’m an amateur therapist, but I know people and animals have a great deal in common. Stubbornness for one thing.” He was unapologetic and that felt vaguely familiar. “So, where are you headed?” I tried to change the topic. “Actually, I don’t know. I’m in a situation that could be similar to yours. I sold my practice and decided to change my life at the same time. So, I threw a few things into the car and took off. Doing a little touristy stuff along the way and trying to clear my mind.” He was curiously cutting his fries into pieces before eating them. I watched, noting each piece was identical in length. “Oh, I see. Do you have family?” This seemed a harmless topic, but apparently it wasn’t. “Not anymore.” “No? What happened?” I slowly put a fry up to my mouth, emphasizing that I was using my fingers. “I had a wife and twin sons, five years old. They were killed by a drunk driver.” I dropped my fry and wanted to slap myself. “Oh, my God, I’m so sorry…” “Thank you.” He didn’t say any more than that. I wasn’t sure if he wanted me to ask another

question or whether he was clamming up. I figured the easiest thing was simply to ask him. “Would you like to talk about it?” That lock of hair had fallen over his eyes again but it could not obscure the tear that waited. “I’m fairly talked, journaled, meditated and analyzed out, to tell you the truth. I thought I might try a change of life. Maybe a new life entirely?” What could I say? That I understood? I didn’t. There was no way possible I could understand what must be going on in that man’s brain and heart. He must have stood on the precipice of insanity and fought to keep from jumping. “Ben, I don’t know what to say.” I shifted uncomfortably in the seat. I was still wearing my western wear from work. I longed for a hot bath in a tub that I could trust was really clean. “‘s okay, people always feel that way. Sometimes I want to lop off my own head and shop for a new one.” He shoved his plate away, evidently his appetite was gone. “I’m going to ask you something and I hope you understand where it comes from.” “Sure,” I said, anxious to make up for the awkwardness I’d created when I asked the question about family. “Would you sleep with me?” I choked on my drink. “Wha-at?” “I just need to sleep with someone, to feel a woman’s body next to mine. It’s been so long and I haven’t met anyone who I’d even consider doing that with…until you, that is.” I held up a hand. “Ben, if I’ve given you the wrong impression, I’m sorry. No, I will not sleep with you. That’s for you to do with someone who you love and who loves you. That’s no solution for what’s going on in your head.” I grabbed my purse and fished out a twenty-dollar bill, laying it on the table. “I’m sorry for your loss, Ben, but you’ve got me all wrong. I wish you the best. Bye,” I said and hurried out of the diner. Hurry probably wouldn’t be a strong enough word. I flew out the door and into the street, drawing in huge gasps of clean air. Was this the world I wanted to find? What the hell was I doing here?

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO Worth A uggie was gone. It had been more than a month now, but I couldn’t get the thought out of my head and I felt like I was going to go mad. Damn the woman! Couldn’t she see I was dealing with something bigger than both of us? Was her answer always to run when the going got tough? I had the corner table at Joe’s. In fact, I’d had it since noon. He was coming and it was going to be a showdown. Once and for all. I recognized his silhouette in the doorway, the sun and the noise from the overhead bridge framing him. It was a shape that delivered nightmares. It had come at bedtimes, a result of a broken window from a thrown baseball or a dandelion that had escaped my weeding. The nightmare carried a belt that flexed with vengeance. There were others who looked up, who knew and who turned away to avoid the nod. He was not well liked. He was only permitted because I was here. He advanced upon me, but this time, it was I who wore the look of disapproval. He stopped at my table and I simply looked at him, refusing to stand in acknowledgment. He finally slid the opposing chair back and fell into it. I noticed that he was moving more stiffly than he used to. I didn’t give a damn. I didn’t waste the time with preambles or small talk. “Why have you sabotaged my business?” “What makes you think it is me?” He was gruff, unforgiving, even in guilt. “You just gave yourself away. You used the present tense.” I sipped my bourbon cautiously, keeping my head clear. “Are you afraid of a little challenge, boy?” he asked, chuckling and taking a draw off his cigar. The bartender called over to him, “No smoking in here, sir.” He looked around at the filled ashtrays and puffs of smoke from around the room and swore as he smashed it into the tabletop. “Heard your filly left you.” He went for the juggler. “I hardly think you’re in a position to discuss relationships, now, are you?” He didn’t say a word. “I want it stopped. Now. What will it take?” “Give her up.” I knew who he meant and I didn’t think I could hate anyone more than I did him at that moment. “Fuck you.” He chuckled, stood, lit another cigar and then shrugged his shoulders. “Up to you, but you’re already fucked, son.” He strolled out, calling hello to each man sitting down the row of stools as though they were intimate friends on the golf course. ***

I drove to the condo, but barely. I’d only had a total of four hours’ sleep over the past two nights and I was barely able to distinguish the headlights that blinded me. I pulled in and realized I hadn’t locked the door when I left in the early morning. Nothing was touched. No one was here. Not even Auggie. I found empty bourbon bottles scattered on the kitchen floor so I went after the wine in the rack. It would take more, but it would work. There was nothing edible in the fridge, so I grabbed a box of crackers and headed for the guest room, the last place she’d slept. If I tried really hard, I could still smell her scent on the sheets. Like a small child seeking comfort, I wrapped myself in them… in her absent skin. The scene kept playing over and over in my mind. I had walked in, exhausted and in a mental turmoil and there was that awful silence. I called her name — no response. I checked and saw her car was missing, so I supposed she was shopping or maybe visiting her parents. I went in to shower and that was when I found the rings on my dresser. The exhaustion instantly disappeared and I went on mental alert. I called her phone, even though I didn’t expect her to answer and she didn’t. I called her dad and he would only say that she was fine, but she was gone. As pitiful as it was, it did give me a sense of relief that as long as he was in her loop, and apparently not worried, I knew she was safe. There was only the one explanation for her absence — she had left me. The question was whether she was close at hand, or had gone some distance. I’d gotten back into the car and headed to the clinic, hoping against hope that there would be a message waiting on my answering machine or a note on my desk. There was nothing. I drove to her parents’ farm. My headlights alerted her Dad and I found him waiting for me outside, away from the house. “Where is she?” tumbled out of my mouth. “I honestly don’t know,” he said and I knew him to be a truthful man. He was also a calm man and he was calm now. “Has she left me?” I dreaded his response. “It would appear so. What did you do?” he asked in a solemn voice. “Nothing, everything… I’ve been in a mess at the clinic and distant, but the alternative was to snap and be short-tempered with her. I thought it would be better if she slept elsewhere so we wouldn’t talk. I didn’t want her upset.” “You didn’t realize it would upset her to be set aside? She’s too loving and nurturing to take that kind of treatment. She’s a wild spirit and as long as you let her be herself, she’s the most loyal damn person you could have in your corner. You, of all people, should know that.” That was the tersest I’d ever heard him be, and I deserved every fucking word of it. We stood there in the circle of light created by the spot mounted high atop the pole next to the barn. It felt like a judgment, or perhaps more of a condemnation. “Can I see Carlos?” I asked, yearning to be close to something of hers that was gentle and innocent, if only by proxy. “She took him,” her dad responded bluntly. “Right now, with the possible exception of me, he’s the only living thing on this planet she feels loves her and that she can trust. I’ll be damned if I’m going to betray her,” he said, pushing his hands into his pockets and turning back toward the house. He kicked at rocks along the way, his only method of displaying emotion in a house that belonged to his dramatic wife. “Sir?” I called after him and he stopped but didn’t turn around. “Did you know?” I couldn’t be any more oblique than that. Now he turned and regarded me with, if anything, more disdain than before. “Know? Hell, I drove

her down there the minute after I said ‘I do.’ Go home, Worth, or wherever that still means to you.” His words were still fresh in my mind, despite the empty wine bottle and the lack of sleep. I ached for her. I realized now that I had responded in the same way I’d been taught to handle anything, with cruelty and an utter disdain for those closest to me. They say you only hurt the people you love. In my case, he hurt me because he had loved my brother better. Perhaps in his world, I was all that stood between him and the pride he wanted to take in a son that stood for something better. Could I blame the bastard? I had lived up to every rotten thing he could have thought of… and then some. I must have finally passed out because the burning came again and it was sunlight, forcing its way through the slats in the blind to scorch my already seared head. I opened my eyes only a slit, at first, hoping to gradually acclimate but there was a figure standing in the doorway to the bedroom. I drew in my breath and sat upright, eyes fully aware and unbelieving of what they saw. Auggie stood in the doorway, her face thin and her hair needing to be brushed. I couldn’t think of what to say. I’d rehearsed our reunion a hundred times with as many outcomes, but now I was struck dumb. She took care of the problem, as always. “I’m pregnant,” she announced and turned to run into the bathroom. I heard her retching.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE Worth I got caught in the sheets and fell to the floor in my scramble to my feet. I cursed and finally got to the bathroom door. “Auggie! Are you okay? Can I get you something?” She opened the door and looked at me, at the stubble on my face and the bloodshot eyes. “How about an abortion?” she said curtly and began stripping off her clothes while she turned on the shower. I stood there, mute, trying desperately to remember whether her words had been real or a transition from my sleep. She stepped under the water and I decided to collect myself. I found another shower, washed quickly and threw on sweatpants and a t-shirt before setting off to find her. She was in the kitchen, a cup of hot tea steaming on the placemat in front of her. “Auggie… I’m so sorry.” All the words, all the attacks, the condemnations, the accusations of cowardice I had planned, had all disappeared in that one moment. “I’ve missed you,” I added and went to stand before her. She looked up. “Did you hear what I said?” I nodded. A thousand questions sprang to mind but there was only one I wanted to ask, only one that mattered and only one I could not ask. I didn’t need to. “Of course it’s yours.” I managed not to blink. I don’t know whether it was because my eyes were so swollen or that I was in complete shock as the realization of what she was saying found its way through the inflamed tissues of my sodden brain. “I didn’t need to ask,” I said quietly. “Liar.” Then she did something entirely uncharacteristic of the stiff-chinned, unflappable Auggie. She began to cry. I did the only thing I could think of, the only thing that came naturally. I knelt and put my arms around her, holding her against my chest and using the cloth napkin next to me to wipe her face and nose. Eventually, I picked her up and cradled her, carrying her back to one of the guest rooms that was as of yet, untouched. I laid her on the bed and collapsed gently next to her. I’d admit to being a bastard when I said that even the sound of her crying was welcomed, if only because it meant that my Auggie was back. I began to talk then, into the thickness of her damp hair, all the while petting her shoulder as I cradled her thin form against me. “I want to talk, Auggie, and I’m asking you to listen. Can you do that for me, just this once?” I felt her head nod beneath my chin. So, I began. “There is nothing I can say to excuse the way I’ve treated you. You have always been faithful and

my rock. I need you more than any person alive on this planet. You’ve become the other half of my miserable self, and I’m not worthy of being half to you. I know I became distant and I know that wasn’t fair to you. What I don’t know is why I thought you would put up with that. I have no excuses but I do have an explanation as to what was going on and you may draw your own conclusions. If, when I’m done, you still want to leave, I’ll pack my things and deed the condo over to you without a word and leave you be. If, however, you can find it in your heart to understand, and if not to quite forgive me, then I will sleep in the other room until the time you think you want me back, and to once again wear my rings. Can we agree on that?” I felt her head nod again and I handed her a tissue as she sniffed loudly. “I’m about to lose the clinic,” I said and felt her stiffen immediately and felt her head tilting upward for an explanation. “No, just lie still and listen.” I kissed her forehead. “Just after the grand opening, I received a letter from an attorney. It accused me of professional misconduct and assorted various personal attacks that damaged the reputation of Dr. Jervis. I made the mistake of not reporting something I witnessed, Auggie, and it will involve hurting you a bit more. Can you take it? Can I tell you this last thing so that all is clear between us?” “Yes, it can’t get much worse,” she whispered. “I walked in on Dr. Jervis and a woman having sex in his office one evening. The woman was a client and had other ties that made the entire thing more than inappropriate. Auggie, that woman was…” but before I could go on, she interrupted. “My mother.” “How did you know?” I felt relief that she knew and pain that she hadn’t confided in me, but then who was I to judge anyone for their lack of confidence? “She has a pattern. I’ve come to know it fairly well,” she explained and I nodded, hugging her as if it were nothing more than a bee sting that would quickly fade, although I knew that would never happen. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to find out and I took advantage of the situation to force Jervis into selling me his share of the clinic. Jervis has always had one hand in my father ’s pocket. Evidently he knew about Linc and had blackmailed my father. I’d always known there was something shady and disturbed between the two of them; rather like honor among thieves. I couldn’t put a finger on it until just then and that was the beginning.” I gave her a few moments to digest this before continuing on. “Jervis avoided confronting me directly but went to my father instead. His timing was perfect. Father was angry because his second-born, black sheep son had shown him up, outmaneuvering him using his own game. I owned the clinic, had the degrees and the success was about to follow. I had even captured the daughter of his former mistress.” “Did you come after me because of who my mother is?” she asked and my heart ached that she would even question this. “No, Auggie, even I am not that devious and anyway, I knew you before I figured out the affair with your mother. She gave it away herself, that first night when you introduced me to her and then later when you told me about the pictures in her album. It all snapped into place then.” She sighed. “I wondered what that was all about.” I nodded. “So, you take one pissed Jervis and one highly jealous bastard of a father and the result is a lawsuit that threatened to expose me and disgrace me forever in a professional sense, as well as drain me of finances through interminable lawsuits, all of which would be financed by my own father.

That’s when it started coming down on me. I knew I was being short, being distant, but it was the only way I knew how to protect you. You see, as much as I hate it, there’s enough of my father in me to see the pattern, too. When crossed, I go for the throat. I didn’t want you getting in the way.” I kissed her hair. Her forehead. Willing her to understand. “So all those nights when I left you to sleep in your bed alone, I was craving you. I needed you. You belonged to me. But I was too dangerous to be near. I don’t know why I thought you would understand that. You had none of the facts and certainly none of the suspicion and background to even guess at what was going on. Your world may have been colored by a promiscuous, controlling mother, Auggie, but your dad is who you take after and he is a true gentleman.” I held her tighter as sobs once again wracked her shoulders. “It was my mistake,” I whispered. “I should have never underestimated you. I should have realized that, if anything, it not only involved you but that we could have gotten through it better if we were together. I’m so sorry, Auggie… but once again, I didn’t give you the credit you deserved.” She stirred in my arms and turned her face up to kiss me. It was nearly my undoing, but I had to stay sane for the moment. There was more to be said. “I take it you met the statuesque, Dr. Hunt?” I asked and she nodded. “My father and Jervis knew me well. Not only was she the kind of woman I would normally have been attracted to, she was also in a position to bail me out. She was a staff doctor with a firm on the west coast. They approached me after the grand opening with an offer to buy me out. I refused. That’s when my father executed his next move and the letter and Hunt showed up. She was to be my partner, essentially taking up the share Jervis had sold to me. She had ruling control and if I screwed up again, she would see me barred from my profession. I found recordings from previous sessions with clients had gone missing from the server. Jervis had taken them for insurance. They were not illegal, per se, but definitely condemning because I overstepped my influence as a therapist to coerce patients into taking steps and actions they ordinarily would not have taken. In short, I chose to send some of them home still ‘broken.’ It would have never stood in front of a board of review, but I would have been disgraced and banished, nonetheless.” Auggie hugged me tighter and I knew hope for the first moment in weeks. “My father wanted me disgraced because he felt I had done the same to him. He knew you would see Hunt and leap to the worst conclusions. Why wouldn’t you? I was a known entity. So, all this time, I’ve been trying to figure out a way to get rid of her, my father, and Jervis’ threats. I never counted you would leave me. Nothing mattered once you were gone. I’ve only been going through hell worrying about you, but your dad wouldn’t tell me where you were and there was no way I could find you. I gave up on fighting. I’ve just been going through the motions. My father and the west coast firm is about to leverage me out of the business entirely.” “This is like a nightmare,” she murmured. I swallowed, emotion clogging my throat. “Can you forgive me, Auggie? I’ll give it all to them and we can move somewhere else. We can just liquidate and start again somewhere. We’re not broke, we’re just broken,” I finished and waited for her reaction. It was some moments in coming. “What about the baby?” “Auggie, I want our baby and I don’t believe in aborting something that is live, and most especially a part of us. Will you marry me? Both of you?” Auggie snuggled harder against me and I took this as an affirmative. I tipped her face up so I

could kiss her. I was so hungry for the taste of her mouth upon mine. I remembered her scent, the feel of her skin. I couldn’t hold back and all the hell of the previous months disappeared in her touch. I devoured her face, her mouth, her neck and sucked the soft skin beneath her ears. Her clothing disappeared somewhere in the haze and I sought her sweet pussy with my mouth. I wanted to taste every inch and every bit of her juice. Auggie spread her legs for me and I settled between them, opening her to my ingress. I feasted, my tongue sweeping her wet walls, needing more. I couldn’t get enough. I pulled her hips forward, resting her legs on my shoulders and she crossed her ankles, pulling me tightly into her. I wanted to drown in the wetness that was pouring out of her. Auggie’s head rolled from side to side in her ecstasy. I knew she was ready to explode and rubbed her with my finger, increasing pressure against the tender skin. She came then, her bottom rocking upward and frantically seeking me. I did not disappoint. I was already rigid and needing her. There was no need to hesitate. I plunged into her depths and she cried out with the filling pressure. I felt pure adoration of her. Her body was the perfect receptor to mine. We were matched in passion, in need, and in the intense relief we could only find in one another. I looked down at her beautiful face, her hair spread across the pillow and realized that for the first time in my life, I loved someone else more than I loved myself. I would never again endanger her by exposing her to the darkness of my past. She now held our child, a creature that would only know the world because the two of us had come together in just this way. Her breasts begged for my mouth and I kissed her sweet nipples, sucking at the rosy flesh that made her groan and pull me flat against her. I rolled so that she was atop me and lifted her down upon my hard shaft. I gently worked up into her. She threw back her head and I watched her beautiful long throat as she growled with the need to find her peak again. She rolled her hips as I thrust upward into her. I knew by the frequency of her movement that she was almost there. I bucked up hard then and she screamed, tears of achievement wetting her long lashes. Three more thrusts and I followed her over the edge. She collapsed on me then and together we clung and slept that entire day. My Auggie was back, the words had been said and nothing and no one would ever separate us again.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR Auggie W orth and I were married in a private ceremony deep within the woods of our new estate. He had gardeners bring in hundreds of potted tulips. Dad gave me away and served as witness while Carlos stood nearby with a wreath of white tulips wound around his neck. It was simple; it was perfect. The engagement ring was augmented by a band of red rubies representing the joining of our blood from that moment on. My mother was not invited and neither were Worth’s parents. I know it saddened him that his mother couldn’t be there, but he said she had stood by her husband so long that it would be dangerous to ask her to relinquish that post while he still lived. Afterward, we enjoyed a simple picnic and listened to the wind rustle the leaves while Chopin played from a small stereo. It was nothing like I’d imagined my wedding would ever be and that made it magical. We had decided to resurrect our life. We were going to live it our way and that meant taking control of our own future. Beverly Dexter had our new house almost complete. It still lacked the fripperies that were now my department and once again. I set about getting everything I wanted, but this time I brought in interior designers from Cincinnati, Atlanta, and Chicago and let them show me their ideas. I approved what I did and didn’t want, and the house was soon brought into shape. Worth was fond of pale and muted colors so I chose a palette that brought the outdoors inside for most of the rooms, although I saved a few for my own personal taste. My office was one room where I indulged my love for equine furnishings. Completely French heritage, the cherry woods blended with a deep crimson, silk sofa and a pair of striped crimson and cream side chairs. The lighting was all for ambiance and only a desk lamp on my Queen Anne secretary was intended for actual work. I installed cherry bookcases along one wall and one of these held my Remington collection. A fireplace in one end added the cheer I missed on the cold, snowy days of winter. For most of the more formal rooms, I chose Italian design, including a Spyder wood dining table. It looked very sophisticated, yet clean with a natural, organic base. Designer Jane Hamley Wells pieces went into the living room as matching, opposing sofas and sleek, gray lounge chairs were accented with low, round coffee and end tables. Beverly Dexter had the lighting throughout the remainder of the house custom made and it blended beautifully. I insisted that a smaller version of Worth’s clinic be installed on the lower level. We not only had the hot tub, but an enclosed lap pool and massage table. I also requested a home theater and a bar made from old reclaimed barn wood. It made Worth cringe with the cliché, but he never said a word. We delayed moving into it until we had the clinic settled. After all, selling the house was still a possible option we could not ignore. I consulted with the best OB/GYN team in town and learned I was in perfect health and the baby would be expected just about Christmas. Worth and I elected not to know the sex and to let it be a

surprise. We were becoming more and more the unconventional couple. In the meantime, Worth’s clinic was doing a booming business. They were booked for appointments three months out and there had been several features written about him in not just professional, but popular, broader audience publications that catered to health and wellness. To the outside world, Worth appeared to be the man with the golden touch. Inside, however, I could tell that he was anything but. He held it in well, making extra efforts to spend time with me. He became invested in furnishing the new house, making modest requests that I could override without argument if I felt it appropriate. He spent time with me, and we made love nightly and with abandon. As the months passed and the sickness was left behind, we discovered the joys of pregnancy increased blood flow that made me all the more sensitive and orgasmic. Worth was only too happy to cooperate and the result was the happiest time I can remember in my entire life. We spent long evenings on our bed, cavorting in the nude. I loved to give him light-touched massages, stroking his thick cock until he could hold it back no longer and his molten juices spilled down my full breasts and over the mound that was our child. In return, he had only to lightly touch me and I instantly shot in the heavens of my mind with the deepest orgasms I’d ever experienced. We repeated our lovemaking over and over with only the slightest variation until we fell asleep from exhaustion. My attention was turned for a while to the Sunset Village, which had become the retirement home of choice for the equine set. Apparently the crafts room and theater were the biggest draws although there were flowers blooming in the back that eclipsed anything I’d seen at the finest farms. Mrs. Jessup managed to rise again as the socialite and elicited enough outside cooperation to throw me a combination wedding and baby shower. Worth and I were now the proud recipients of a dozen hand-made afghans and baby blankets, carefully crocheted from scraps of yarn decoratively pieced together. These were the most precious gifts I could have ever received. While we had missed the Derby, we did manage to travel to Churchill a number of times and watch the fall races. I’d watched a few Steeplechase events as well but we’d left off buying any colts until our barns were constructed. Their delay was the price we paid to get our house finally complete. Worth made me swear to stay clear of the clinic. He didn’t want me to be upset by what was going on with it and thought it wisest if the baby and I were free of that stress. I had to agree and although I wasn’t permitted to ride Carlos, I did spend a lot of time brushing him and walking with him through the leaves as fall returned. If we hadn’t had the clinic to worry about, our lives would have been idyllic. That was when everything changed.

Worth The strain of the blackmail was becoming too much to hide. Over and over again, the bitch Dr. Hunt was exerting pressure over me to do things her way and pressing in the dagger of my vulnerability on a daily basis. I knew I had to protect Auggie, so I had decided I would make a decision on what to do by a certain date, and that day had arrived. I had just come into the office and my first client wasn’t due in for another fifteen minutes. I made myself a coffee and relaxed at the desk, contemplating my final decision. I needed to make this with a

clear head. There was too much at stake. It wasn’t just me, or even Auggie and me, there was a child and an entire generation who would pay if I made the wrong decision today. Call it fate, but my cell rang and I answered. “Worth, this is Bill Daughtery,” came the brusque voice. “Bill. I didn’t think I’d ever hear from you again,” I commented dryly, although his investigative invoices had arrived on a timely basis. “I think I’m about to earn the money you’ve been sending me, Worth. When can we meet?” I considered the importance of what he might have to say and made a decision. “Meet me at one o’clock at Joe’s.” “See you there,” he said and hung up. I went out to Patsy and told her to cancel my afternoon appointments. I verified that Auggie wasn’t expected in. She’d been coming three times a week for massage therapy as the baby weight was beginning to hurt her lower back and give her leg cramps. Despite her athleticism, it was our first baby and it was taking a toll on her ability to rest comfortably. I changed jackets before I left for Joe’s and met Bill there at the dot of one o’clock. We took a table and ordered beers and a sandwich. We reminisced about college days while we ate, delaying the inevitable information I knew he was going to pass along to me. He was my ace in the hole and I hoped he was going to come through for me. Our beers were refilled and Bill grew serious. “This is confidential stuff I have to tell you,” he began, looking around. “You don’t want it overheard.” “Very well,” I said and paid the bill, nodding to the bartender. Bill and I took a walk down to Third Street riverfront park. The Belle of Louisville was still in dock, but its charm was lost on our conversation. We strolled along the railing and as Bill talked, I stared down into the churning dark waters of the Ohio. There was something redemptive about water, but that day it was Bill who brought that emotion with his words. The wind had picked up and dark autumn clouds were rolling in to deliver their first, early sleet of the season. I shook his hand when we parted, my mind now churning as the dark waters beneath the Third Street Bridge. *** “Worth!” my mother ’s voice was excited as she found me in her doorway. “Come in, darling!” she invited, kissing me on the cheek and pulling me indoors where it was warmer but stormier than even the sleet I’d left behind. “Is he here?” I asked in a sober voice. I was concerned about her welfare after I left today. Her life could go on uninterrupted, or it could be devastated. It would all depend on the man in the study. “You know where to find him,” she said, her voice filled with natural concern. She knew I wasn’t there on a social call. She knew it meant trouble. Perhaps that’s why she headed upstairs as soon as she let go of my arm. It was self-preservation to stay out of the way of random artillery fire. He knew I was there. He’d sensed the moment I pulled into the drive, like a wolf that can smell the scent of prey a mile away. He pretended to not see me but unlike the cowering child who would have once stood in the

doorway for hours waiting to be invited in, I simply walked in and fell into the wingback opposite his desk. “We need to talk,” I stated. He looked up. Perhaps it was the tone of my voice, perhaps he smelled the scent of danger in the air. “Do we, indeed?” he snarled, tossing his pen down and sitting back in his chair, his hands brought together in a prayer-like gesture of contemplation. It was not a prayer to God. Father didn’t believe in any church but the Temple of LaViere where his word was never doubted. “It stops today,” I said in a solid, but quiet voice. He heard the dead calm behind my words and perhaps it caused him to perspire a bit. Cowardice can do that. “It stops when I say it stops,” he snapped back and turned to pour himself another bourbon. Even at my distance, I could see that his hand was shaking. “I know about Santa Anita,” I spoke the words quietly but slowly so there was no question about what I was saying. He whirled around. “And just what do you think you know?” he asked sarcastically. “I’m not that big of a fool. If I tell you, I happen to know you have a little button beside your left knee that activates a recording device. I’m not about to go on record.” I got up and walked around his desk, pouring myself two fingers of his best bourbon and downing it in a single gulp. I set the glass back, upside down, causing a ring of the liquid to form on the surface of his cherry desk. I knew it would enrage him; he was very proud of that desk. His hand shook as he ached to retrieve the glass, but it would be a sign of surrender. He couldn’t afford that. The stakes were too high. “What do you want?” were his simple, but oft-repeated words. I was no longer innocent enough to believe they signaled resignation. They often were more a sign of retaliation. Not this time, though. This time, I was in control. “Call off your dogs. Pay them off and neuter Jervis.” “Or?” I laughed callously. “You need to ask? You forget. I’ve learned from the best.” “You won’t get away with it,” he said. “You thought you could,” I pointed out, “and you were wrong. His face tightened, his only sign of emotion. “Damn you for a hound from hell.” “Father, and I use the word genetically, if there is a hell, it is one you created and you will languish in for a very long time. I trust we have an arrangement?” “Get out!” he screamed, his face a mottled red and he threw his glass at me. I tipped my head and he missed. I walked to the doorway and laughed as I looked over my shoulder. His head was on his crossed arms. I walked to the base of the stairs. “Mother?” I called to her and she appeared at the top. “Get a bag. You’re coming with me for a few days. It’s time you knew your daughter-in-law,” I said. She didn’t argue, didn’t even question the reason why. If anything, there was relief written all over her face. “I’ll be right there,” she said, nodding. She was. In fact, she was down the stairs in under five minutes. I stood guard in the foyer and when she came tripping down, I opened the front door and helped her into my car. “What happened?” she asked as we pulled out onto the roadway.

“I believe you might call it the end of an era,” I said and she nodded. She didn’t need the details.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE Worth W hen I ushered Mother into the condo, Auggie’s face lit up. “Hello!” she called out and came forward. Mother ’s face lit equally when she saw Auggie’s shape. “Worth! I didn’t know!” she exclaimed and hugged us both. “When is it due?” she asked, reaching out to touch Auggie’s blossoming tummy. “About Christmas,” Auggie answered. She looked to me for an explanation. “Mother will be staying with us for a bit. I’d like her to get to know you and it won’t hurt for you to not be alone so much,” I said and Auggie nodded and smiled in total approval. “Auggie, I never had the chance to welcome you to the family. Well, such as it is,” she said, looking to Worth for approval. “It’s fine, Mother. We know you have no part in this,” I assured her. “Good. Auggie, will you call me Margaret?” She hugged Auggie again, for good measure. “May I get you something, Margaret?” Auggie confirmed the gesture. “You wouldn’t happen to have a cup of tea, would you? I’m chilled to the bone and although it’s probably not due entirely to the cold, Halloween is tomorrow, isn’t it?” “Come in the kitchen and let’s talk while I brew it,” Auggie invited. “After all, it is the time of year for a good brew,” she joked. My mother was enchanted with the condo. I could tell she liked it by the way she lingered in each room as we took her on tour, touching the carved trims and the marble baths. While her own home at the farm was quite comfortable, it was dated in the old money sort of way and I knew she missed having something new and open to her personal sense of design. The farm where she and Father lived had been in the family for generations. There was nothing new about it at all. I was feeling rather satisfied with myself. Timing this morning had seemed so without options and now here I was, a solution on the table and the people I loved the most under my own roof. It was a contentment I’d never experienced and I thought about the children Auggie and I would be having and how our family would grow. My guiding motivation would be to never be anything like my father. He was the antithesis of a good parent, an abomination as a husband and a cunning and vile wolf when it came to being a human being in general. We sat up and talked long into the night and I finally gave up, citing a need to get to the office early. Auggie climbed into the bed beside me. “I really like her,” she whispered, then turned, backed her bottom into me and fell promptly asleep. I lay there hard and wanting her for a very long time, the skin of her bottom caressing my throbbing penis. I didn’t have the heart to disturb her so I realized I would have to get accustomed to the yearning, for a few months at least. I fell asleep peacefully. ***

The next morning, I rose early, patted Auggie on the bottom and left for the clinic. I had a first-thing patient but when we were finished, I checked with Patsy and she told me what I had hoped I would hear. Deborah Hunt had called to say she wouldn’t be in again and to transfer her patients to my workload. I sighed with relief internally, despite the extra work I didn’t really need right now. It was a white flag of surrender. The bitch was gone. I had won. It was Halloween and leaves were blowing across the parking lot. Kids in costumes were going to the various stores that displayed signs offering treats. The sun was shining and the colors were splendid in their presentation. There was a festive atmosphere in the air and the juice bar was offering a selection of themed drinks based on apple cider. I was in a jubilant mood and two of my clients had canceled for the end of the afternoon which gave me an early day after all. I was about to call Auggie and ask that she bring Mother in and the three of us would go to dinner when Patsy came up to me, her face solemn. “What’s wrong?” I asked. “There’s someone out here to see you, Worth, and I don’t think it’s good news.” She never called me by my first name at the office so I knew this was not going to be something I would find pleasant. He was dressed in a police uniform and his face was grave. I felt my heart racing, unsure whether he’d come to arrest me for some trumped up charge by my father or perhaps to serve papers for Jervis. It was neither. “May we,” he said, motioning to my office and I nodded, taking him inside. I took my seat behind my desk and he sat opposite me. “Dr. LaViere, when was the last time you saw your father?” “Why, what’s he done now?” I asked, perturbed that the old man was not yet finished with me. “Could you answer the question, Dr. LaViere?” My mind raced, looking for an angle and deciding whether I should play my ace in the hole. After all, the law was sitting in front of me. “I saw him last night. We talked and then I brought my mother home with me for a few days for a visit.” “Everything was fine with him then, sir?” he asked. This wasn’t about what I thought, clearly. “What’s wrong?” I asked. “I’m sorry to tell you, Dr. LaViere, that your father was discovered late this morning by someone who works at the house. He’s dead, apparently from a gunshot wound to the head.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX Worth I followed the officer out to the farm and retched in the yard when I got out of the car. In my head, I was back to being that little boy who had forgotten to close the barn door and spent half the night chasing the mare who had escaped. I would come home, shaking and wet with mud after a dozen falls, my knees bleeding, but the mare safely put away. He would beat me with a horse whip. Worst of all, he seemed to enjoy it immensely. Now, here I was, entering the house I’d left so recently and, this time, I was here to see him again, but not as a cowering child. I was here to identify his bloodied body. He was just as I’d left him, seated at his desk, the bottle of bourbon empty and the glass turned over. It was his last mockery of the night — to leave a stain that could never be erased. I could see the gray tufts of hair stuck to the high back of his desk chair. The left side of his face was gone but there was enough left for me to recognize him. I nodded and the coroner replaced the sheet over the body. “I think that will be all for now,” the coroner pronounced. “There will be an autopsy, of course, but it’s pretty apparent that he took his own life with the gun we found in his hand. One bullet was fired and the gun has been bagged for dusting. I’m sorry to bring you here to see this, Dr. LaViere, but we needed a family member to identify his remains.” “I understand,” I said and felt the sourness in my stomach wanting to surface again. I turned away from the sight and went into the foyer. There were officials all over the house, taking photographs and stringing that horrid yellow crime scene tape everywhere. What was I going to say to Mother? I stood outside in the yard beneath the spotlight and looked up at the sky that late October afternoon. There was a breeze rustling through what was left on the trees and the rest scattered across the yard and into the back near the barns. The horses were restless. They sensed something was terribly wrong and were anxious to run away. One of Father ’s stable hands was standing at the edge of the yard and I strolled over to him. He was shaking and half-dressed, his shirt buttoned wrong. “Pete,” I acknowledged. “I’m awful sorry about Mr. LaViere, Doctor LaViere,” he mumbled, unsure what to say at a time like this. “I know, Pete, and I appreciate it. Were you the one who found him?” I asked and he nodded. “He didn’t come down to the barns like he always does and with your mother gone and no one else around, I got a little worried. I knocked on the door but no one came. I tried the handle and it was unlocked. I went in and called his name and when there was no answer, I kept on going until I found him like that, slumped over his desk.” “You didn’t hear the shot?” I asked. “No, sir… I was down at the next farm playing pinochle until real late and when I came back, I just went into the ranch house and went to bed. I did notice that the horses were restless, though, but I figured it was just because I’d been gone. They’re used to me always bein’ around, you know.” I squeezed his shoulder in acknowledgment and sympathy. “Nothing you could have done, Pete.

The old man always had his own way of doing things.” Pete nodded, “That he did, Dr. LaViere… that he sure did.” “Pete, I’d appreciate it if you’d keep this to yourself for a bit more today. I haven’t told my mother yet and I wouldn’t want her to hear it from anyone else or to see it on the news.” “They were already here, Dr. LaViere. The crew from channel three. Isn’t much you can keep from those people.” At Pete’s words, I pulled out my cell and quickly called Auggie’s number. She answered on the third ring. “Auggie, listen to me and don’t say a word in return. Just trust me this once. Whatever you do, I don’t want you or Mother to turn on the television or the radio. If anyone comes to the door, don’t answer it. I’ll explain as soon as I get home. I’m fine and things will be okay, but you have to do as I say this once without argument or questions. I’m hanging up now and I’ll be home as soon as I can.” Auggie said nothing and I heard the line go dead. Good girl, I thought. I can count on you. I waited around another hour or so while the coroner ’s van removed Father ’s body from the house. The detectives finished up their work and left and suddenly, the house and grounds were quiet. It was an eerie feeling. One I never thought I’d witness. The reign of Worthington LaViere, II was over and now I was in charge. This would come with added responsibilities and at the moment, I wasn’t too sure I wanted them. There was nothing to be done about it for the time being, however. “Pete, can you look after the horses and the place until I can figure out what we’re going to do?” “Yes, sir, Dr. LaViere. Won’t be no problem at all.” “Thank you, Pete. I’m going to lock up the house now, but I’ll leave you a key under the doormat and if anything looks suspicious, I want you to go in and check things out. Here is my number at the clinic and at home. You’re not to talk to my mother or my wife, though. Only leave a message and ask me to return the call. Can I trust you on this, Pete?” “Yes, sir, you can always trust me. I’ve been with the family most all of my life. I won’t leave you short-handed right now.” “I appreciate that. I won’t forget you, I promise. Whatever happens to the farm, you’ll be taken care of. Okay, I’m going now. When I leave, I want you to take a chain and put a No Trespassing sign across the end of the drive by the road. You keep an eye out and don’t let anyone on the property.” “Yes, sir,” he said and I took one last look at the house before getting in the Escalade and driving away. I don’t know whether shock or relief were the strongest emotions I was feeling on the ride back to town. There may have even been a bit of guilt built in, but I have no clear recollection of it now. I remembered the story that Bill Daughtery had briefly told me and the packet of documentation, pictures, letters and even news clippings he’d given me. It had been the primary evidence as I verbally assaulted my father that last night. I tried to tell myself that this wasn’t my fault, but I was feeling strong guilt all the same. My father had been wild when he was a young man. In many ways, my mother often compared me to him, telling me how like my father I was. I hated it when she said it because he embodied everything in my world that generated hatred. I even resembled him physically, and when I left for college, I’d vowed I would never do anything that would remind others I was his son. When he had finished college, he took off with a couple of his friends, young men from good

families in the area. They had headed west to buy breeding stock and to enjoy the life of young, rich bucks in the meantime. They ended up in California horse country, a storied land with a reputation almost as hallowed as these bluegrass hills that surrounded me as I drove. Father had begun drinking heavily and taken up hanging out at the horse track at Santa Anita. His losses were piling up and he had exhausted his own spending money and borrowed heavily from the other guys he was with. Finally, they were all broke and there was nothing else to do but to call home for money. Although I never met him, I’d heard enough stories to know that the apple had not fallen far from the tree. Worthington LaViere I was someone to be reckoned with and ruled with an iron fist. It was he who had built the farm and its holdings from nothing. My grandfather had been very angry and refused to give my father any more money, thinking it would teach him a lesson and force him to mend his ways. Therefore, my father turned to less legal ways of making money. He had gotten involved with a group of men from the syndicate in Chicago. They needed someone young and who looked like he belonged in the stables at the back of the track. They needed someone like Father. In return for financing his gambling, he was to keep tabs on the horses and jockeys and to fix certain races so the syndicate fellows would clean up. In essence, he did their dirty work. At the same time, Father continued to gamble, betting on the races that he fixed for the syndicate, and a few for himself. That was, until they found out. He had made a deal with a jockey named Johnny Torez, a young rider out of Mexico, who was in the U.S. illegally but no one cared enough to check. He was built for the job and handled the horses like a magician. Father made a deal with Johnny to come in second in a stakes race and then he laid ten thousand at the window on the fixed odds. Johnny came through but my father refused to pay him his cut and the jockey got back at him by letting the syndicate know that Father had gone behind their backs. They sent one of their men to kill him, but he’d gotten word just in time and when the hit men came, there was only Johnny to take the blame. They decided not to hit Johnny, but to leave him as bait. They knew Father ’s gambling was a sickness and that sooner or later, he would return to try it a second time. That’s exactly what he did. This time, he made the deal with Johnny and promised him a bigger share than before to make up for the hassle. Johnny came through and when the syndicate heard he was back they went in for the kill. All they found, however, was Johnny Torez, crumpled in a pile of hay in one of the stalls, a knife lodged in his heart. There was little doubt who had done it and little doubt who stood to benefit by silencing Johnny. The word went out on Father and he hightailed it back for Kentucky and fell on his knees to my grandfather. The original Worth LaViere was not a man to be trifled with and he used his influence to call off the contract and paid the syndicate any monies they calculated they’d lost by Father ’s betrayal. There was still the little matter of a dead jockey and there was little Grandfather could do about it at that late date. So, my father had lived in the shadow of a crime he was afraid might resurface at any point. My guess was that his guilt made him all the meaner and more careless and that’s why he’d had the affair with Auggie’s mother. He cared little for anyone or anything because he could feel the leather straps of an electric chair on his footsteps every day of his life. He had known I was smart and that I ran with the same set of people he’d been with. I presented a

huge risk to him. I could find out and have him arrested at a moment’s notice. The risk was more than he could stomach and his fear became a sort of hatred, but it was directed at me. He saw in me the reckless, wanton behavior of his own youth, the same behavior that had gotten him into so much trouble. He didn’t want to beat it out of me. He wanted to beat me to cleanse himself of his own sins. So, now, I drove away from the house I’d grown up in. It was sullied with blood in a way that couldn’t be cleaned with soap and water. I would never step foot in that house again as long as I lived. Father found a way to get back at me, after all. He hoped, I’m sure, to leave me with a legacy of guilt, and most certainly of shame for having been the son of a man who was a murderer and a coward beneath the hateful exterior of a monster. He had the last word. I couldn’t tell him of the sense of relief his death brought… and not just to me. What still remained was telling Mother. I pulled up to the condo and saw a news truck parked at the edge of the parking lot. I imagined that Auggie had thoughtfully notified the management to be on the lookout and that any non-resident would be denied access to the parking area inside the gate. I went up to the condo, using every bit of my education to form the words that I must say. How could I tell my mother that her husband had hated his life — with her, with me, and with my child to come — enough to take his own life? She could never return to the farm now, either. There were too many painful memories for that to be a healthy choice. Mother surprisingly accepted the news quietly. In fact, she didn’t even seem particularly surprised. It was as if she knew he had run out of options and when I’d offered for her to come with me, she was eager to be gone when he resolved his life in the only way that made sense to him. Perhaps she welcomed the shackles being cut. Her life was not over. She had friends and distant family. She was even still young enough to start over with a new husband and perhaps that would be her reward for having stayed. After the coroner returned his report stating that Father had died by a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head, we had him cremated and his remains buried in the family cemetery at the back of the farm. There were few mourners; not even those people who would come to gloat. It was as if he had been erased from the memory of everyone who knew him. When I walked into Joe’s the day after the funeral, the regulars put up a toast of respect, to Worth LaViere, III. I acknowledged all this meant and had shed the claustrophobic skin of being a son, finally. We retreated from the world for a few days until the headlines disappeared. I’d canceled my appointments, but I don’t think anyone was really surprised. I had other doctors on staff to cover for me for the time being. I needed to be at home with my wife and my mother. After the funeral, I felt we needed a change of scenery. I booked first-class seats for Puerto Rico and took Mother and Auggie down to a resort for a week. Mother was as excited as a young child. Father never included her in any of his trips and she’d barely been out of Kentucky over her entire lifetime. It made me feel good to give her this simple pleasure. The resort where we stayed had several pools and Mother respected our privacy and spent most days in the sun or lounging within a cabana with a book. Auggie and I, on the other hand, made love continually, only stopping to sleep and eat. I think we needed the reassurance that everything would be okay with us and with our future. It happened that we ran into some people we knew from Louisville, most notably a gentleman of Mother ’s acquaintance when she was in college. He was recently widowed as well, and they spent two evenings sharing over long dinners. If nothing else, it made her feel vibrant as a woman again, and I

hoped they might get together upon returning home. The blissful week finally came to an end. We had managed to wash off the horror of the preceding weeks and could look to our futures with a more positive view. Auggie’s shape was changing daily and I had never seen her more beautiful. When we returned to Louisville, it was decided that Mother would remain with us at the condo. I couldn’t be certain, but her mood almost seemed superficially somber. She received calls from friends on a continual basis and it was almost as if there was relief on everyone’s mind. I had counseled hundreds of patients for grieving. I understood the stages, the relief followed by the guilt. I asked myself if I was being cold, but I could not find grief in my heart. Not as a son, not as a man, not even as an admirer of a man who had managed to build an empire. He was simply and finally… gone. I’d heard a story that Auggie’s mother had poured herself a glass of straight bourbon, downed it at one time and then slammed it down, proclaiming, “There! That’s the end of that!” It seemed no one would mourn him. The attorney contacted me a week following our return, needing some papers signed. It seemed Father had left the estate to me. Some sort of ironic dare, I suppose. I signed it over to Mother and told her to sell it and spend every penny of it enjoying herself. It was at that point that Auggie and I came to a decision. The baby was due soon and our life was not yet settled. We decided to move into our new home right away. I hired movers to pack our personal items, especially those for the nursery. Otherwise, we left the condo intact and Mother moved in. She would be closer to us and further from the memories of the farm. She had it cleaned and the furniture removed, thereafter putting it into the hands of a realtor. While the house certainly held a stigma, the land and barns were the majority of the value and new owners could choose to raze the house and build anew. Personally, I hoped that’s exactly what they would do. I’d never particularly liked the house and there was plenty of room to build a much larger building. If the real estate agent advised it, I would have the house demolished myself and offer the land and barns alone. Either way, Mother had a haven at the condo near us and we had a feeling that she would not be lonely for long. I heard no more threats about the clinic and began to make plans to open a second one in Lexington, and then had my sights set on Cincinnati. Now that things were more settled, Auggie came in one day for a back massage to relieve the sore muscles from the weight of the baby. Everyone crowded around her, making a fuss over her, and she loved every minute of it. As much as I knew she looked forward to being a mother, there was a side of her that was very sociable and practical. I began to give some thought to asking her to be a part of the business, particularly when we opened the new sites. I broached this to her that evening and was surprised at her reaction. *** “I don’t think so,” she said immediately. “Oh? Really? I thought you would love to try your hand at the business, Auggie. After all, that’s what you went to school to learn, right?” “Just because I know a good deal about business doesn’t mean I agree with how you run yours,” she pointed out in a salty tone.

“Which means?” “Worth, I love you, but you’ve been reckless in the way you treat your clients. You know as well as I that you’ve found occasions to influence them unfairly when they came to you for your professionalism and guidance.” “Hardly, dear. They come to be forgiven of their sins. I explained that to you.” “Perhaps some do,” she agreed. “But that isn’t for you to decide. I didn’t care for whatever you did to get Mrs. Jessup’s son to donate that money. I don’t want to know how you did it, but all the evidence leads back to you. Can you deny that just perhaps you abused the privileges of your profession a bit to get what you wanted?” I must have looked guilty because she called me on it instantly. “See what I mean?” “Auggie, I want you to work with me. You’ve got a good head and I’m going to need help. Expansion takes time and expertise. I can’t do it all alone. Not unless I give up my practice entirely.” “Worth, I don’t think you need to go to that length. Just be more professional.” “If I promise to do as you say, will you reconsider?” I really wanted her help and was ashamed of her condemnation. I wanted to run everything above board, the way I’d promised myself I would do. I wanted the name LaViere to stand for something noble and not dark and evil. She could see the earnest look on my face. She came over to me, leaning upward to kiss me. Her breasts were bursting and their softness against my chest was nearly my undoing. Jesus, I wanted her, baby or not. “I will promise you this. When this baby is born and our household stable enough to support my being away for a few hours each day, as long as you’ve kept your promise to stay above board, I will come and work with you,” she allowed. “Thank you, sweetheart. You don’t know what that means to me.” “Not so fast, Worth,” she cautioned. “You’ve got some bad habits and they’re hard to break. To compete legally, you’ll have to stop manipulating all the way around. Do you think you can do that?” “I do.” I was serious. “Very well. Keep it above board and I’m there. Revert and I’m out.” I would keep my word to her. I would make her proud. For some reason, I felt a need to be accountable to someone, and Auggie was a far better choice than the man who had sired me. In the meantime, our household was preparing for Christmas and the birth of our baby. In a resolution to be more sociable, we had decided to host a pre-Christmas gala. Auggie had hired caterers and Jeremy came by to add his unique touch to the decorations throughout the house. Although we’d had a bit of snow, it had already melted by the next morning so it appeared as though we would have a green Christmas. Auggie had decided to improvise and she’d hired the white carriages drawn by horses that commonly carried tourists in the downtown area. They pulled up in the parking area outside our house and we invited our guests to take a carriage ride, complete with hot cider and other holiday refreshments. Auggie was becoming loved and known; well on her way to being a replacement for the aging Mrs. Jessup as society’s matron. While I didn’t think the role suited her since she was still far too young, I could not discount the advantage it would present while growing the business and later with having our children established properly. Auggie was heavy with our child and supervising the installation of our personal Christmas decorations on a twenty-foot fir that had been set up in the main foyer. I was in my office, going over

the paperwork left from settling Father ’s estate. I wanted it done before the new year set in. “Worth!” she called out and I could tell she was alarmed. I found her standing in a puddle of fluid, her eyes huge in terror. “Worth, my water broke! It’s too early!” I grabbed her, put my arm around her and called to Betsy, the lady we had hired to help Auggie and to see to the cooking and care of the house. “Get Auggie’s bag, Betsy,” I told her and scooped my wife into my arms, threw a coat over her and deposited her in the back seat of the Escalade. Betsy followed with the suitcase that had long been packed beneath the bed and as I pulled out of the drive and headed toward the hospital, I called Mother and then Auggie’s dad. Worthington LaViere, IV was born just after midnight and despite his early arrival, he weighed six pounds and screamed as only my son could. My mother was on hand, as was Auggie’s dad, although Mrs. Langford chose to stay home. I was rather relieved at this. Auggie, although depleted from the ten-hour labor, was jubilant and already planning the decorating of the nursery. She held baby Worth close to her breast and although he was as yet too young to begin nursing, I could not imagine a more beautiful tableau. Mother and child came home three days later. The hospital wanted Worth, whom we had nicknamed Ford from his middle name, to stay an extra two days for observation and Auggie insisted on staying with him. By Christmas Eve, the baby was settled into his own bed in a pale green nursery that perfectly offset the emerald eyes he’d inherited from his mother. I could tell he would grow up to likely be a very handsome young man. My wife had returned to her rightful place in my bed. Although I knew it would be some time before I could fill her beautiful body with my love, I was content to simply have the people I loved the most nearby. I could not have asked for a more beautiful Christmas.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN Worth A uggie was lying next to me, it was late February and I wanted her. Her body was ripe and her breasts full with motherhood. Her skin seemed to glow as though lit from within. I found her thigh with my hand and began to stroke it, moving closer to the inside with each rotation. I heard her expel her breath as she moved closer to me. She wanted me, as well. I rose to my knees and positioned myself above her head, bending to kiss her nose and then her mouth. Even upside down, her lips were perfectly formed and moist. I breathed in her scent and grew hard. Auggie forced my knees apart and moved between my thighs. Tilting her head backward, she used her hands to stroke my cock, and I groaned as she took me into her mouth. With her head tilted back, she was able to take more of me into her throat than ever before. I felt her tongue sliding up one side and down the other, then switching to suck hard upon my tip. Desire flamed and my balls tightened. “Stop, baby. I want to be inside you.” When she didn’t stop, I pulled her away, those beautiful lips releasing me as I turned her onto her back. “I’m going to go slow, my darling. You tell me if you’re the least bit sore, promise?” I asked. She nodded but the only word I heard was, “More.” I entered her gently at first but her swollen pussy clutched at me, not wanting me to withdraw. As I pushed inside her again, I shuddered as she closed around me, hot and snug. The honey-wet silk spasmed, and I nearly lost it right there. I closed my eyes, fighting the urge to let go. I didn’t want to leave her warmth just yet. I withdrew and thrust harder, tearing a cry from her lips. “Don’t stop,” she moaned against my mouth. Mindless, I gripped her hips with both hands and thrust deep, pounding into her as something primal coursed through me. The sound of our flesh coming together filled the room as she lifted her hips, meeting every thrust. Knowing she needed me as much as I needed her was driving me crazy. She came, her body tightening and twisting, low, raw moans filling my ears. I chased her release, needing my own now and replaced pace for force. Seconds later, she exploded again. I came only a breath after her. Being careful now, I pulled out, gazing down at the still writhing body of the woman I loved. Full breasts heaved, leaking, but so beautiful. Motherhood agreed with her. I skimmed my fingers down the stomach that had housed our baby, then further down. As my fingers grazed her center, my finger disappearing between her folds, she arched into the touch and I transferred our combined juices to her swollen and tender clit. I looked at her closely, fascinated with the body that had so willing given life. I wanted to keep the image of that precious part of her anatomy in my mind forever. Using my palms, I massaged her and

then parted her, rendering a contrast of warmth and cool air that further excited her. She writhed beneath my attentions and I watched her juices flowing out as the rosy flesh inside pulsed in her excitement. I loved this woman and knew I could never leave her. She would be by my side forever. Just to prove the point to myself, I entered her once more, tenderly. We were lying, completely immersed like this when we fell asleep. At some time in the night, I awoke to discover my hard cock nestled between her legs. I moved just enough to insert myself again and I heard her moan in contentment. All the money in the world could not find me another Auggie. All we needed was one another, naked and in full harmony. How long was the road we had traveled in order to discover this simple realization? I arose to the sound of her in the shower. I punched myself up a coffee and heard the baby crying and her soothing voice in response. She came into the kitchen and sat with me, young Ford nursing at her breast while we talked. “I have a client coming in and need to get going,” I said finally, stroking Ford’s cheek and Auggie’s nursing breast in one uniting sweep. I’d never seen something so beautiful as watching the woman I adored nursing our little one. “Ford and I are going to ride out to the farm and visit Dad,” she said. “He doesn’t get to see the baby enough.” I hadn’t seen Mrs. Langford since the baby was born. I wasn’t entirely sure that she’d even seen him but it was of no concern to me. I left it to Auggie and her own conscience. “Be careful, the roads are still a bit slick after that frost last night,” I mentioned as I headed out.

Auggie After all that happened with Worth’s father, I was not very keen about bringing Mother into Ford’s life. She had already ruined two generations and I knew she hadn’t yet slowed down. Dad had come to the hospital, but Mother didn’t accompany him. It seemed she and I had reached an impasse and had a mutual understanding. All that aside, I knew that it couldn’t go on that way indefinitely, if only because it wasn’t fair to Ford. He deserved access to both his grandmothers in an equal way. Someday, when he was old enough, he could learn of the problems she and I had and make up his own mind how to think of them. In the meantime, it would be too confusing to have such strife between us. So, I had decided that morning to finally take Ford to see her. I knew she seldom left home so there was no valid reason to call ahead. If anything, it would only prepare her to have acerbic remarks waiting and I really did not need to hear these. We arrived at the farm and Dad must have seen us pulling in. Before I tackled Mother, I took Ford in his carrier to visit Carlos. I wanted Carlos to get used to him so he would know Ford was a part of me and be calm. Carlos nuzzled me happily and then carefully sniffed Ford. He seemed convinced that Ford was acceptable and I was very relieved. It was also important that Ford begin to think of the smell of a stable as being part of home. I hoped to give him a pony and riding lessons before he turned five. As we left the paddock, Mother was standing inside the doorway. She simply looked at us through

the glass, her face emotionless. Dad went ahead of me and opened the door, causing her to step backward. “This is Ford, Mother,” I said as I walked inside. She looked at her grandchild and said, “All babies look alike,” before she turned and walked off. I could not say that I was extremely surprised at her reaction. Other than his eyes, Ford was definitely a LaViere. I walked into the living room and sat down to pull Ford’s heavy clothing off and to feed him some milk I had pumped before we left. I changed his diaper and Mother sat across the room, her face registering nothing although I know I saw her eyes dart across the room from time to time. I knew eventually she would give in and warm up to him, but it would be a process, not an event. It had to be accomplished on her terms. Once Ford was over my shoulder being burped, she began her assault. “We were sorry to hear of Worth’s loss,” she started. “Thank you.” “Why did he kill himself?” She was blunt, if tactless. “Mother, do you really want to get into this now?” “You can think of a better time?” she snapped, her mouth twisting into something that was anything but attractive. “I wasn’t talking about the baby, Mother,” I said meaningfully. “It’s okay, Auggie,” Dad said. “I know your mother ’s secrets.” My head snapped around at this. I had no idea. “That’s right,” he added. “When your mother found herself with child, we were married and I drove her down to your aunt’s. It has never changed how I felt about her. I loved her for many years before then. If anything, it gave me an opportunity I might not have ordinarily had.” “Dad, you are unbelievable, do you know that?” I gave him the praise and admiration he deserved but that didn’t sit well with Mother. “Worth was an ass,” she put in coldly. “Mother, are you really sure you want to talk about this right now?” “Auggie, I know you have little, if any, respect left for me and I suppose I can’t blame you. But let’s put this on the table and get it over with. Worth LaViere ran with the fastest crowd. He was like a gang leader, if I had to describe it.” Her voice was almost reminiscent and her eyes glazed as she pictured Worth’s father as he was when they were young. I knew this was not lost on Dad and wondered how he could even stand to stay in the room. “All the girls wanted to be with him and I suppose I wasn’t any different than they were. You have to know what that’s like,” she said in an almost pleading voice. I nodded, although not avidly. “I was also raised by parents who taught me to stay away from boys like that.” I couldn’t help but say it. All these years I had taken her nasty comments and heavy-handed supervision. I was a mother now and even though I was taught to respect my elders, she was forcing this topic to the surface. I wasn’t going to let her out of it so easily. It was time she grew up. “Okay, I deserved that,” she allowed and shifted in her chair. I realized at that moment how much she looked exactly like the furniture in the room where we sat. It was hard, unrelenting and monotone. She surrounded herself with pious misery and expected

everyone to accept that as the best way to live. I wasn’t going to accept it. “Tell me about the baby.” I forced it out into the open. Her eyes grew momentarily as if the memory had just now come back to her. Even Dad exhaled a bit uncertain whether she was up to talking about it. “Dad needs to hear about this, too, you know,” I said. “He has stood by you all these years and it’s time he gets a bit of recognition for that.” She nodded, drew a deep breath and began in a voice that blamed everyone but herself. I should have expected nothing more. “Worth used me and dumped me on the side of the road, literally, one night. I can still hear his laugh. He’d pestered me over and over until I finally gave in. I thought he would marry me. I was so wrong. He wouldn’t even acknowledge that he’d been with me. Told people that I was loose and suggested I was beneath his level. That’s when I discovered I was pregnant.” She stopped there, swallowing hard and fixating her eyes on some spot in the distance that didn’t require her brain to think. “I went to him at that farm and found him back in the paddocks with another girl. She was undressed from the waist down and he was upon her. I screamed and that startled her. She pulled herself together and ran. I guess she must have lived nearby. I was sobbing and ran up to him, telling him I was going to have his baby. He laughed and told me it was my problem. I remember slapping him and he hit me in the face in return, hard. I threatened to go to his parents and he said if I did, he’d kill me. He was wild. I believed him, so I left.” Dad stood up to go and comfort Mother, but she waved him off. “No, let me say this. Time it was said.” She was going to finally lay it out, even if she was being a bit dramatic. She continued. “Your father had been interested in me for some time but I only had eyes for Worth. When I found myself with a baby on the way, I went to him for comfort and he insisted that I marry him to save myself the embarrassment. I said I wanted to get rid of the baby, that I didn’t want anything to do with Worth LaViere. We drove to Florida, to my aunt’s place in Naples. Your father stayed with me the whole time. We were married before a Justice of the Peace and he talked me into giving up the baby instead of having an abortion. They took the child from me and that’s the last I ever saw of it. I never knew the sex, never knew what happened to it. I pushed that part of my life into the past and never looked back. “Years later, our family began hosting the barbecues and it would have caused talk if the LaVieres weren’t invited. It would have brought scandal that none of us wanted. We wanted it all forgotten. Those were the pictures you found. You know the rest, Auggie. That’s all there is to tell. Condemn if you wish, but there you have it.” “Mother,” I swallowed, “actually there is more to it.” “What do you mean?” One fine eyebrow lifted. “Of course there isn’t. You want to gloat? Go ahead. Your mother got herself pregnant. I had no right to be so hard on you and I guess now, looking back, I was trying to save you from the embarrassment and humiliation I went through. I didn’t want your life ruined the way mine had been.” “Well, thank you very much,” Dad said, standing, hands closed to fists at his side. “I hardly would call marrying me quite as bad as all that.” “No, no, I didn’t mean that,” she said in a tired voice that suggested his feelings really weren’t the consideration he was looking for. Her red hair was frazzled, pinned onto her head in a very

unbecoming manner. I could only see red. All my life I had taken and taken from her — the condescension, the complaints, the put-downs, I had taken all that and more. But now she was making a tragedy out of being married to one of the most genuine, generous, wonderful people in the world — my father. I could not stand for that. I would not listen to it. Even if it meant that I would never see her again or if she was not to be a part of Ford’s life — it was time she got her comeuppance. I began to put Ford’s outdoor clothing back on him. She could see I was preparing to leave. “Where are you going, Auggie. We’re not done here,” she said, aggravated that her drama was to be curtailed. “Oh, yes, we are done, Mother. Let me tell you a little something. First of all, the only person who can stand you is here in this room and it isn’t me. That man who you’ve spent a lifetime belittling is worth a hundred of you. You were lucky that he loved you enough to stand up through what you put him through. He deserved to be loved for himself, to be adored because he has a huge heart and a noble spirit and the courage to get through the worst things that could be thrown at him. He is enough of a man to stand up even to you, Mother. This man saved you from utter disgrace. I cannot believe the way you’re treating him!” I continued to zip up Ford’s little outfit. “You’re not leaving yet, young lady,” she tried again. “You’re right, Mother, I’m not. Not yet. I have a little bit more to say before I go and I hope Dad will go with me. You’re right about one thing. Worth LaViere, II was a bastard, in more ways than you might ever know. That baby you had that was adopted out? It went nowhere. Nowhere but right into LaViere’s hands and that baby grew up to be Linc LaViere, living right here in this same town.” Mother gasped as the words began to sink in. “But he’s, he’s…” “Yes, Mother, he’s dead. You lost him not once, but twice. If he were still here, he would probably hate you as much as I do,” I said quietly. “Auggie! How can you say that about your own mother?” she cried out, her voice rising to an hysterical level. “Because, dear Mother, he may have been a bastard, but you certainly are a bitch. You’re right you didn’t deserve what you got — you didn’t deserve to find a man as loving and loyal as my father to save your stupid ass.” I looked at Dad, who was looking as shell-shocked as my mom. “I’m sorry, Dad, if this hurts you, but you should know it anyway. Mother, here, almost caused Worth to lose his clinic. He was being blackmailed by his father and Dr. Jervis, Worth’s original partner. They claimed Worth was abusing his position as a psychologist by breaking the vows of doctor / patient ethics. You know why? Because they both had dirty hands and my Worth stood to expose them both!” I took in a deep breath so I could speak this next part. “Worth went into the clinic the night you were in there fucking Jervis, dear Mother.” Her voice choked in a gasp and Dad’s face went white. “That’s right, Mother. Worth saw your fat, ugly ass high in the air while that limp-dick Jervis was fucking you!” I was beside myself in anger and amazed at the sailor ’s language that was pouring from my mouth. It matched how I felt and anything less would have underserved the vulgarity of her betrayal. “Worth caught you but didn’t recognize you until the night he came here and I introduced him to you. You nearly went into a dead faint and it wasn’t for a while that he realized why. Then he identified you by your horrid, dyed, red hair. He knew why you behaved so rudely, why you didn’t want him around and why you have always been so cruel to Dad and to me. I won’t let it happen any longer, Mother. I can’t even stand to use that word with you. You will not be around Ford. As far as

I’m concerned, you’re dead to him.” My voice had risen to shouting and I didn’t care. It felt like a huge boil within me had burst. All the subdued anger I felt finally surfaced and poured out with the vile words I used. It poured out and all over the creature who had made our lives miserable. “Dad, I’m leaving and nothing would make me happier than if you were to come with me. We have plenty of room at the new house and you can have a suite of rooms. You need never see this woman again!” I stood to leave, but it seemed Dad had a few things to say as well. “Caren, you know I have always stood by you all these years. I’ve lied for you, I married you and I held you all those nights when I knew you were really crying for him. I threw away any chance of true love and happiness for myself and stayed with you.” He took a step toward my mother but seemed to force himself to stop. “I want you to know now that it wasn’t for you. It hasn’t been for some time. It was for this young lady who you see before you, and for the baby she’s holding in her arms. I wanted Auggie to have the best I could possibly provide for her. She’s my blood, Caren. You cannot ever take that away. You can withhold your affections from me and I’ll sleep in a separate room my entire life — but you can never take Auggie away from me.” He spread his arms wide, indicating the room. “Now… I seem to remember that this house and all that is in it was paid for by my money. You had none and never did. If you remember, my parents insisted that if I was to marry you, you had to sign a prenuptial. Well, I’m calling in the marker, dear Caren. I want a divorce and I want you off this property within thirty days. I will give you a small bankroll so you can find somewhere to go, but then you’ll have to find a way to take care of yourself. Somehow, I don’t think you’ll have great difficulty doing that. It seems that eventually you manage to get off your back and up onto your feet. Even when they’re in the air.” Mother was half sitting, half lying in her chair. She had completely collapsed and for a moment, I wondered whether she was having a stroke. Her arm was raised in the air, clawing at space as if trying to restore her grip on her life. “Auggie, you go on home, dear. I’m going to stay here and keep an eye on things,” Dad said calmly. I knew he didn’t mean that he was looking after Mother, but after his own welfare and possessions. I’d never known about the prenuptial and couldn’t believe how stupid Mother was to have endangered her ability to live by treating my dad so badly. I nodded, kissed Dad on the cheek and never looked back at the woman who gave me life. As far as I was concerned, she did not exist. *** My hands were shaking on the drive back to town. I was, at first, appalled at my own behavior and language. That was totally unlike me. I had to do it, though. It had to be that kind of behavior. The kind of language that was irretrievably a part of our verbal history and could not be taken back. It was the only way it would work with Mother and me. A clean cut. I pulled into the parking lot at the clinic and carried Ford with me into the lobby. “I need to see my husband,” I said to Patsy and there must have been a look on my face that worried her because she instantly came out from behind her desk and escorted me through the back entrance into Worth’s inner office. “He’s in another part of the clinic just now, finishing a group session. I’ll have him in here in less

than five minutes.” She patted me on the shoulder. “Anything I can get you or the baby?” I shook my head. “Just my husband,” I said again and she hurried out. True to her word, Worth was in front of me in four minutes. “What’s wrong?” His face showed alarm. He knew it wasn’t like me to show up here unannounced. “I finally did it,” I started and sat down, crying. “Auggie, what is it?” he asked me, sitting down next to me and taking Ford while putting his spare arm around me. “I took Ford out to meet Mother for the first time,” I stuttered. Worth nodded. “And I guess it didn’t go so well,” he commiserated. “It couldn’t have gone worse. I totally lost it. She is evil, Worth… truly evil.” “That doesn’t mean you have that trait, Auggie. You’re like your dad. You’re the best person possible, honey.” “It’s not that, Worth. I just never thought she could really be as bad as I thought she was. I thought it was because I was her daughter and resented the way she raised me. She was always so strict, so uncaring. I never knew how horrible she was to Dad, though.” “Well, Auggie, that’s up to him to take care of,” Worth said. “Oh, he’s taking care of it, alright.” A sound came out of me that was half laugh, half sob. “He’s divorcing her. Worth, it was awful. She just kept on and on, saying things about your father and how it was everyone’s fault but hers. I lost it. She insulted my Dad, saying he wasn’t worth much and her life had been ruined, and I absolutely lost it.” “Awww… it can’t be that bad,” Worth tried to comfort me. “No, it really was that bad. I told her everything, Worth. All of it.” Worth was silent. “I see. About Linc? Jervis?” “All of it.” “Jesus.” “I know, I know. I said I wasn’t going to do it, but I got carried away when she attacked Dad. I just couldn’t seem to stop myself.” I was really confused by the way I’d behaved. “Auggie, listen to me. I want you to stop feeling bad about this right now. I went through the same thing with my father. We were, for lack of a better word, abused, by one of our parents throughout our entire childhood. Yours was verbal. Mine was verbal and physical. They were not good parents, but we were lucky enough to have one good parent and that’s the person we have to focus on. You blew off some steam. You said the things you wanted to for a long time. It’s much better out there, said, than stored up inside yourself. I’m here for you and we are a family.” He bent and kissed the baby’s head. “This is our family. We have no need for your mother or my father. Ford doesn’t need those examples in his life, either.” “Worth, you should have seen Dad. He took it and took it… defended her and then finally, when he found out about Jervis, that was it. He’s divorcing her and she signed a prenuptial. He’s keeping everything, throwing her out within a month, bag and baggage. It’s over for her.” “Are you feeling regret?” he asked me. I sat back and looked at him. With all honesty, the only thing I could think to say was, “Hell, no!” “That’s my girl.” Worth smiled and hugged me with his free arm. “Now, what do you say I take

this family out to dinner?” “I would be honored,” I answered. “Oh, and Worth?” “Yes, Auggie?” “I love you, by the way. I’m proud to be your wife and you’ll be the finest father anyone could ever have. Ford is a lucky boy.” “I love you too, Auggie,” he responded and kissed me. It just can’t get much better than this.

EPILOGUE Auggie Mother left within the thirty days, just as Dad dictated. I think she went to live in an apartment on the west end of Louisville. Quite a comedown from where she had been, but she earned what she got. I didn’t make an effort to find her. She knew where I was and didn’t reach out to me, either. Dad divorced her and he and Worth’s mother have been keeping company lately. Who would have thought it? Worth opened two more clinics and they’re doing very well, although it’s early. He was busier than ever and true to my word, I agreed to help him once Ford was old enough to be with a nanny. In the meantime, I was doing all the research I could to become more familiar with his industry. Our life was idyllic, so much so that I’d begun to be suspicious of it. It didn’t feel natural for everything to go so well. That’s why I was perhaps not as shocked as I should have been when that day finally came. Worth had already left for the clinic and I was looking after Ford in his nursery when I heard the doorbell ring. “Betsy?” I called downstairs but she didn’t answer. I realized she was probably outdoors, taking out the garbage or hanging sheets. I loved the smell of line-dried sheets better than anything and had insisted on a series of clotheslines to accommodate the bedding. I checked to see that Ford was fast asleep so I went down to answer the door myself. I was expecting Mr. McLean. We were going to discuss the offerings at the upcoming Keeneland sales. Beverly Dexter had completed our first set of barns and only Carlos had taken up residence to date. I opened the door and there stood a man who looked vaguely familiar, although I couldn’t place why. “May I help you?” I asked. “I’m looking for Dr. Worth LaViere,” he said solemnly. Again, I was searching my memory for where I could have met this man and it was making me feel quite discomfited. I was generally pretty good at remembering faces. “I’m sorry, but he’s not at home at the moment. You can find him at the clinic, though. Can I help you with something?” “I see. No, I won’t bother him at the clinic. This is a personal matter, you see.” I nodded and expected to see him turn to leave, but he held his stance. “I’ll be glad to tell him you stopped by,” I offered in the language that said it was time to leave. “What’s your name?” “That would be fine. Tell him I’ll come back another day, but I’m staying at the Hilton in the meantime.” “And your name?” I prompted him again. “Linc LaViere.”

The End

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ABOUT THE AUTHORS Alice Ward is the author of the Bestselling New Adult series, “Reckless.” Reading and Writing romance is her passion and she writes with her true heart. Living in Miami, the beach is her favorite place to relax with her laptop and write her next spicy romance. However, when she is not reading or writing romance, she also enjoys being with her beautiful family. Connect with Alice on Facebook * Jessica Blake is the author of the hot alpha billionaire romance series, “The Billionaire Prisoner,” along with her friend Alice Ward. Since she was a young college girl reading and writing romance was what she loved the most and she enjoys entertaining her fans through her books. Living in Miami, she likes to sit by the pool with her laptop and write her next hot romance. However, when she is not reading or writing romance, she also enjoys being with her beautiful family. Connect with Jessica on Facebook

COPYRIGHT AND DISCLAIMER This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer ’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental. Copyright © 2016 Alice Ward and Jessica Blake All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of the trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.