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Authors: Celeste O. Norfleet

Following Love (8 page)

BOOK: Following Love
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He successfully avoided her at her aunt's house easily enough by making sure not to go when she was there. Unfortunately there was no way to continue avoiding her in the office. So the best thing to do was to get rid of her.

“Sorry I'm late, what'd I miss?” Jordan said as he entered Darius' office, seeing Julian at the window and Darius behind his desk with his back turned. The tension in the room was telling. “What's going on?”

“Julian wants us to get rid of Dena,” Darius said.

“Are we doing this again? I thought this was settled,” Jordan said as he entered the discussion.

“It's not,” Julian said, turning.

“It is,” Darius corrected.

“I don't see how you have a problem with Dena,” Jordan said, taking a seat across from Darius' desk.

“Well, I do. She needs to go, now,” Julian insisted.

“We can't do that even if we wanted to,” Darius said. “Legally we don't have a leg to stand on and besides that, the suggestion is absurd.”

“Well, then, I'm going on vacation for the next three months or until either Mattie returns or Willamina comes back from maternity leave.”

“Don't be ridiculous,” Darius said.

“I'm serious. I've already got a position lined up for her.”

“I bet you do,” Darius muttered under his breath, seeing firsthand the distress Dena was putting his brother through. Julian turned to him.

“No, way,” Jordan insisted. “I asked around, everyone thinks she's great and so do I. As a matter of fact, I was just in her office, we talked a bit. She's nice and I really like her. Actually I was thinking I might ask her to the beach house this weekend.”

Julian turned to him. “What?”

“Yeah, Mrs. Peyton can babysit her son and she and I can spend some quality time together, get to know each other better.” He smiled, looking directly at Julian.

“Over your dead body.” Julian glared with an empty threat but still the anger in his eyes sparked piercingly.

Jordan laughed and pointed to Darius. “I told you, interesting response for a celibate man wallowing in self-pity.”

“You're not asking her anywhere,” Julian said.

“Why not? You don't even want her here in the office let alone in your life, so why shouldn't I ask her out?” Jordan chuckled and Darius joined in.

Julian realized that Jordan was just teasing to irritate him and that he had no intention of actually asking Dena out. “If this meeting is adjourned, I have things to do.”

“Anyone I know?” Jordan asked, still chuckling.

Julian glared at him one last time before walking out the door, hearing Darius join in the laughter.

 

She was hurt and angry and just plain pissed off. Another man's rejection should have been nothing to her but this one hurt even more than the others. Her father rejected her and then her husband rejected her, but at least on some level they knew her or at least thought they did. No, Julian's offhand dismissal hurt worse than the others. He didn't even give her a chance.

She got in the car and drove on automatic like a zombie on Prozac. Windows down, the once gentle breeze whipped recklessly through her loose curls as she drove detached, emotionless, stilled by what she'd just heard. Anguished images stirred her mind to wonder.

Her lowest point was just after Forester died. She remembered the feeling well. He was pronounced dead right there in front of her at the scene of the accident. She expected the world to stop, but it didn't. Nothing changed. She looked around and curiosity-seekers looked on and cars continued to drive by as if nothing had happened.

In that instant her world had collapsed and the ripple she expected to follow didn't even tremble. She was in a bad place at that point. Her heart was broken and the guilt of surviving a deadly crash that took three people plagued her. She was ripe to be taken advantage of.

But what did follow, the arguments, the rebuffs and the rejection from her mother-in-law drove her to near insanity. That's when she learned to fight back and to stand up for herself and be strong. Her great-aunt always told her that no one can beat you down if you don't let them. She had let them, but no more, never again.

Then fighting back had become her mantra. She fought Adel, Forester's mother, and she fought the law. And now she intended to stand strong and fight again. Pointing her car, she arrived at her aunt's house before she even realized it. She pulled up in the driveway, got out and walked inside.

“Hi, sweetie, you're home early,” Ellen said.

“Hi, Aunt Ellen,” Dena said, dropping her purse on the kitchen counter then looking around. “Where's Dillon?”

Ellen looked at her strangely. “You called me, remember? Willamina picked up her twins then stopped by to pick up Dillon for dinner. He was so excited. She said that they'd probably be back late, around eight o'clock.”

“Oh, that's right,” Dena said, obviously distracted.

“Are you all right? What's wrong?”

“Nothing.” She faked a half smile. “I'm just tired.”

Ellen stood, walked into the living room then returned with a letter. “This came for you. It's from your attorney.”

Dena looked at the letter as if it would bite her. She took it gingerly and opened it. Sitting down, she read silently then reread its partial contents out loud. “It's from Adel's attorney to my attorney then copied to me.”

“Anything good?” Ellen asked.

“It deals with Adel, you know better than that,” Dena said, then cleared her throat and began reading the interesting part of the letter.

“‘Defendant, Adel Graham, has supplied verifiable proof that the child, Dillon Graham, is not biologically related to her son deceased, Forester Graham. Furthermore said wife/widow/plaintiff, Dena Graham, entered into an adulterous affair after the death of Forester Graham resulting in said child. As a direct result all inheritance life insurance policies, property and personal assets on Forester Graham's behalf will remain in the custody of Adel Graham.

A tentative appointment has been scheduled to review information stated in this letter, please contact me at…'”

“‘Verifiable proof,'” Dena repeated wearily as she looked up from the letter. “That woman still won't let go of those apron strings.”

Ellen chuckled. “She damn near choked you with her vindictive lies. I'm so glad that part of your life is over.”

“Not quite over.”

“I don't know how you do it. This lawsuit has dragged on for over three years. Adel is just plain spiteful. She knows good and darn well that Dillon is Forester's son. And tell me please, how the heck is she privy to what did or didn't happen in your marital bed?”

“I told her that Forester and I hadn't had intimate relations in months before the accident.”

“You did what?”

“I told her. It was the truth as far as she needed to know. But a month before he died Forester came home drunk one night and we were together.” Her voice trailed off and a pained expression clouded her face.

“He raped you, didn't he? That son of a…”

“Dillon was conceived that night, how and why doesn't matter.”

“So tell her.”

Dena half smiled. “Tell Adel that her perfect angelic son forced himself on me. Yeah, she'll believe that,” she said facetiously. “The only reason I'm even doing all this is that Dillon deserves it. He shouldn't be penalized because of his father.”

“It'll all come out in the wash. Are you going to the appointment they've set up?”

“I'll have to contact Lynn and see what she suggests. I'd like to go. At this point I just want to get this over with.”

“I'm sorry this has been so difficult for you.”

“You know, the funny thing is that Forester's ex-girlfriend was also pregnant at the same time I was. She told Adel that it was Forester's child and Adel has taken the child into her home.”

“Is it his child?” Ellen asked.

“I have no idea. I just want Dillon to have what he deserves.”

“He will,” Ellen said, patting Dena's hand gently. “Now, how about something to eat? I made fried chicken, macaroni and cheese, green beans and homemade corn bread.”

“Nah, thanks, I'm not really hungry.”

“You have to eat something, Dena. I'll fix you a plate.” Dena nodded. “Oh, by the way, Julian stopped by earlier.”

“Did he?” Dena said coolly.

“Yes, he let Dillon play with his cell phone and forgot to take it back when he left. He asked if he could stop by and pick it up this evening. But I need to go out, so would you make sure he gets this? Oh, and I fixed him a food platter, too.”

Dena looked at the phone her aunt handed her. Her day was going downhill on jet-propulsion skis. A few minutes later Ellen left and Dena was alone. She walked through the house, her thoughts clouded with images of Forester then Julian then Dillon, the men in and around her life.

To find some relief she walked out back and stood at the edge of the patio. Disheveled in its renovation stage, the framework for a breathtaking sanctuary was visually emerging. Quiet but still restless, she continued her walk along the well-worn garden path toward the greenhouse that had been constructed years earlier and had since been renovated and modernized to suit her aunt's needs.

Her aunt's house stood on ten pristine acres of land, giving her plenty of room to roam freely. She passed the large greenhouse, finally reaching the narrow path beyond it to the small brook traversing the property. She stood listening and watching the water. There she found her contentment. Moments later she turned and headed back to the house.

Walking back she enjoyed the dancing lightning bugs' glow while listening to the ardent crickets rub their legs together in hopes of finding a mate. She returned just as dusk had begun to settle and a full moon climbed high in the clear night sky. A warm breeze blew by as she sat relaxing, resolving to herself that being alone was good.

She closed her eyes and dreamed.

Then hearing a noise, she awoke and looked around. “Who's there?”

“Dena, it's me, Julian. I came to…”

“Yeah, right, I know. Your cell phone. It's in the kitchen on the counter, go and get it,” she said, her voice cold and detached as she relaxed back in the chair again.

He didn't. Instead he moved to where she was sitting and sat down on the lounge beside her. “How are you?”

“You tell me. Or better yet, don't. Let's not play this, okay. Just get your phone and go.”

“Excuse me?” he said as she sighed heavily, stood and walked away from him. “What's wrong? Have I offended you?”

She laughed.

“What's so funny?” he asked, still following.

“You, you're a trip.”

Julian continued to follow. “I don't get it.”

“If you have a problem with me, tell me, I won't sue and you certainly don't need an extended vacation just to get away from me.”

“What?”

“Sorry I don't fit into your pretty little package.”

“You have me at a disadvantage,” he confessed.

“You, disadvantaged?” She whipped around quickly. “You, made uncomfortable by a mere woman like me? Somehow I doubt that.” She marched across the greenhouse and slammed open the door.

“What are you talking about?” Julian asked as he followed her into the greenhouse.

She turned on a dime to face him. “Don't act like you don't know. I heard you tonight in your brother's office. I'll have a letter of resignation on Willamina's desk first thing in the morning and you don't have to farm me off to someone else, I can find another position.”

“Dena,” he began, “it's not what you think.”

“As I said, let's not play this game. Your precious honor is safe. I'm not looking for some kind of consort. I know what happened between us was inappropriate. I just didn't realize you were so disgusted. I'm truly sorry if I offended your sensibilities.”

“Dena—” he began but was cut off quickly.

“I don't want to hear it.” She turned and walked away, and began closing the windows and vents and shutting down the sprinkler system for the evening.

He followed. “Are you finished? Can I please say something now?”

She turned again. He stopped short. “No. But you may inform your brothers that litigation takes too long and I don't sue over trivial matters.”

“Are you finished now?” he asked humbly, following her outside and back to the house.

“No.” She turned again. “How dare you presume you can change my life to suit your needs. I dealt with that crap for too long to have to put up with it again. I don't need you or this job.”

“Are you finished now?” he asked again.

BOOK: Following Love
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