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Authors: Celeste O. Norfleet

Following Love (9 page)

BOOK: Following Love
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She hesitated then started in again and really let him have it. “This is exactly what's wrong with men today. What makes you happy, what pleases you, what you want—you never think about anyone else but yourself. Men may rule the world but you don't rule all the women in it,” she said, then stomped up the stairs to the kitchen.

“Are you—” he attempted to ask again.

“No. I just want to know one thing. Why are you so threatened by me? What are you afraid of? If you aren't interested, just say so,” she said then stopped and, breathing hard, went silent.

“—finished now?” he continued his question, half smiling by her less than focused tirade.

“Yeah, I'm more than finished.” She picked up the cell phone and slammed it into his hand, then turned to the back staircase and headed upstairs. “Goodbye, Julian. Close the door on your way out.”

“I've chosen to be celibate,” he confessed.

She stopped on the third step, stunned by his statement.

Chapter 7

“C
elibate.”

She turned.

He nodded. “And you, woman, are driving me crazy.” He lowered his head, leaned forward against the counter, his arms wide and his hands grasping the edge firmly.

“Celibate,” she repeated, unbelievably stunned.

“I'm no monk. I've been tempted, yes. But for the last seven and a half months, I avoided any and all physical contact with women. But you…” He took a deep ragged breath and shook his head. “You come along and everything goes right out the window.”

“Celibate,” she whispered.

He looked up at her and cocked his head impatiently. “You want to stop saying that now,” he requested calmly.

“Sorry.” She smiled and silently chuckled. “Why? Or is it a spiritual thing?” she asked as she came back into the kitchen area.

“It's not a spiritual vow and the particulars of the why don't really matter. The point is, having you around is killing me.”

“Oh, no, you don't. You're not going to blame this on me. There are half a million women in this county—”

“That haven't affected me as you have,” he continued.

“No,” she said plainly. “Flattering, yes, but I refuse to believe that,” she stated firmly as she moved closer.

“Believe it.” He looked at her deeply, his eyes glazed with undeniable truth. “I can't do this with you in my life,” he near whispered as she came closer.

“I'm not in your life,” she said.

“You know what I mean.”

“And how is this fair to me?” she said.

“It's not,” he agreed, “but I don't know what else to do. You stir urges in my body, strong urges, and every time I see or am near you, I want you. I want you so bad,” he said, gritting his teeth.

She smiled, feeling a certain power. “Is that right?”

He nodded.

She nodded.

They stood face-to-face, staring into each other's eyes feeling what lovers feel when passion calls. Then without moving, in his mind's eye he took her in his arms and kissed her. Her lips melded to his as he wrapped his arms around her body, holding her tight to his own. His thoughts devoured her with an embrace so intense the world stopped spinning as their assent to pleasure and their surrendering to passion gave way.

It was his fantasy and his mouth dried even with the thought of the long lustful sensation. His overwhelming unrestrained craving yielded to nothing but reality. But in his thoughts, she was his and he was hers. His eyes, sad and wanting at the same time, stayed steadily focused on hers as a vacuum of air continued to still around them.

Dena sighed inwardly. Unfulfilled desire; she knew what it was like. The wanting, the arousal, the hunger, the longing all culminated in one fierce intensified need. She had lived her life wanting more, first from her parents then from her husband and now from herself. And in this moment her want was Julian. But there was no way she would deliberately defy his promise of celibacy, yet the idea was tempting.

She herself had been celibate or at least abstinent for the past four and a half years, not by choice but by circumstance. Now the slow, steady attrition had built up inside of her. She had finally found someone, but he, of his own volition, was beyond her reach. But oh, the possibility. Wild and wicked, they were many, varied and then some.

Rapturous thoughts clouded her mind and he never even touched her. Breathless and patient, she felt his eyes touch her and she nearly trembled, transfixed by the unquenched passion. They drowned in desire having never even dipped into the pool. The dream, a fantasy, in reality was set aside. Relenting would be effortless, but they didn't.

Each held controlled strength, knowing in this moment gratification would not come, imagining was one thing, but actually making love was not to be.

“What were you just thinking?” Dena asked.

“You know exactly what I was just thinking,” he said.

She smiled. He was right, she did know what he was thinking because she was thinking the same thing. How easy it would be to surrender to the moment, when wanting each other was all there was and all that mattered.

“Condoms?” she joked.

He shook his head and smiled.

“You?” he queried, adding to the joke.

She shook her head and smiled.

A relaxed expression touched their eyes. The connection they'd made quickly dissipated.

“Mo-omm, I'm home,” Dillon called.

They laughed just as Dillon and two other little boys rounded the corner. They were all three dressed like superheroes with bright red, white and blue capes.

“Hi, Dena. Sorry we're so late, we were having too much fun. We really need to—” Willamina, following to boys to the kitchen, stopped and smiled, seeing Julian standing at the counter. “Julian,” she said, smiling broader. “I didn't realize you were here.”

“Hello, Willamina,” he said. “Hi, guys.”

“Hi,” the three boys said in unison.

“Willamina, thank you so much,” Dena said.

“Don't mention it, it was fun. I actually got to sit and relax. These three superheroes rescued me from an evil villain six times. All I had to do was sit with my feet up and eat ice cream.”

“Really,” Dena said, laughing, “that's fantastic.”

Dena turned her attention to the three superheroes. “You three deserve something very special.”

“We had chocolate ice cream, Mom,” Dillon began excitedly. “This is Caleb and Justin, they're my new friends. They have a big construction in their house. We played with trucks and dug holes in the sand. It was fun. Can I go back and play later, cause we're gonna build a castle and then—” he yawned “—we're gonna build a spaceship and then a house and a castle again. Can I show Caleb and Justin my room?” He finally finished then took a breath. Caleb and Justin moved back to lean against Willamina's legs. They also yawned.

“Why don't we discuss that tomorrow? Right now, Dillon, you need to thank Mrs. Parker for inviting you over tonight.” He did.

“You're very welcome, Dillon, anytime. Well, I'm gonna say good night and get these guys home and right to bed.”

Caleb and Justin sang a collective, “Aw, Mom.”

“It's late, buddies, and we have to go now.”

“Can we come back again?” the twins asked hopefully.

Willamina looked at Dena. She smiled at the boys. “Caleb and Justin, you have an open invitation to visit Dillon anytime your mom says you can.”

“Yea,” Dillon yelled as Caleb and Justin joined in.

“But for right now, its bedtime, young man, so say goodbye and good night.”

“Aw, Mom,” Dillon said, then, seconds later complied.

“Good night, Julian,” Willamina said as she walked away.

“Good night, Willamina. Check you later, Caleb, Justin.”

“'Bye,” the boys called in unison.

“Thanks again, Willamina,” Dena said.

The three boys ran back to the living room then out onto the front porch. Willamina and Dena followed. “Julian, huh?”

“It's not what you're thinking,” Dena said, stepping out onto the porch.

“Uh-huh, it never is, is it? See you tomorrow.”

“Good night.” Dena watched as Dillon said 'bye to his new friends then walked back into the house. She stayed outside and watched as Willamina secured the boys in their seats then got in, buckled up and drove off.

As she went back inside she heard Dillon telling Julian everything he did that evening in machine-gun rapid secession. “Okay, mister-man, its way past your bedtime.”

“Aw, Mom,” he said, apparently his new catch phrase. “Can't I stay up longer?”

“Nope. Say good night and head upstairs. I'm right behind you.” She removed his cape and placed it on the back of the chair then kissed his forehead. He didn't pull away as he usually did when they weren't alone.

“Night,” he said to Julian while yawning.

“Good night, buddy,” Julian said as they slapped each other a high five then Dillon slowly walked up the back kitchen stairs to his bedroom.

“He's such a great kid,” Julian said, surprising himself by the open admission. He was obviously beginning to feel attached.

“He's my hero,” Dena said. “He saved my life.”

Julian looked at her. Her focus was on the back stairs but he knew that she was miles away in her thoughts. She turned and their eyes held. “So,” they said at the same time then smiled. “You first.” Again in unison.

“Look, Julian, I don't know what led you to make your decision and I'm sure it took a lot of thought and consideration. I may not fully understand, but I can certainly respect it. I won't make this any more difficult for you. I'll stay on my side of the desk but if you still find my presence difficult, I'll get another job, simple. So, colleagues?” she offered as she held her hand out to shake.

Julian's heart lurched. He didn't expect her to say what she said. He was actually ready to give up celibacy but her offer touched him. “Friends.” He finally conceded, shaking her hand.

“Mo-omm, I'm ready,” Dillon called from upstairs.

“I'd better go,” Julian said, and he began walking to the front door. “Good night.”

“Good night,” she said, watching him walk down the front steps then to his car parked across the road.

“Mo-omm, I'm ready again,” Dillon repeated.

“Coming,” Dena said, closing the door.

Julian looked in the rearview mirror, seeing Dena go back into the house. He smiled. The evening hadn't started as he expected, but it had ended favorably enough. As he and Dena came to an understanding he wondered just how long he could hold out knowing that the temptation was too strong to ignore.

Chapter 8

S
he'd gotten a new look.

She was going to meet with her attorney and Adel's legion of suits, and that in itself required change. The last time Adel saw her she was a pathetic pitiful wreck sniveling and crying about the sale of her house. Although it was only a few months ago, she felt as if it were a lifetime ago.

Thankfully, Willamina granted her a full day off to handle personal business.

It was exactly as she remembered, Graham, Whitman & Morris, only there was no Whitman or Morris. Graham had long since bought them out but they still carried the letterhead for purely professional purposes. Dena walked to the reception area, her attorney was already there.

Lynn Brice turned and smiled, surprised. “Dena.”

“Hi, Lynn,” Dena said as the two women hugged warmly. Old college friends, they had started in Judge Hughes's office years ago. They were both on the fast track to partnership success but then Lynn assisted in a case for her firm. Their client was accused of kidnapping and assault. Her firm got the man off then in return he kidnapped Lynn and held her hostage for three days. The ordeal was horrendous. Once resolved and the man imprisoned, Lynn eventually quit her job and took time off, then came back stronger then ever.

“Look at you,” Lynn remarked. “You look fantastic.”

“Thanks,” Dena said, proud of her new look. “I feel fantastic.”

“Whatever your aunt's doing, she's a miracle worker. I might stop by and check her out myself.”

“Are you kidding, you look fantastic.” They hugged again then chatted briefly to catch up.

“So are you ready for this?” Dena asked, looking up at the grandfather clock in the main lobby.

“One question,” Lynn offered. “Why me? You know my history, I haven't practiced law in over five years. My practice is small, very small, you know that. There are so many other attorneys and firms who would love to take Graham, Whitman & Morris on. Why me?”

“Because you're my friend and because you know what it's like to go to hell and come back stronger. So I figure another trip won't be so bad.” The two chuckled, remembering the times they consoled each other through the lowest points in both their lives.

“Ain't that the truth,” Lynn said.

“This isn't going to be easy. They're gonna play their games, try to intimidate us, even scare us, that's just how they roll. Adel always gets her way, period. There is no compromise as far as she's concerned.”

“I've been in the lion's den before,” Lynn said. “I've grown quite comfortable there.”

“This isn't the lion's den,” Dena said. “This is the lion's mouth and I'm the main course. You can turn back if you'd like, I'll understand.”

“Nah, I've turned back too many times in my life already. Let's do this for Dillon.”

Dena nodded. She was proud of her friend. They grasped hands, squeezed for moral support then headed to the elevator.

“Warning,” Dena said as they walked, “their main strategy is the positioning in the conference room. They'll have us face the bright sun streaming in from the windows. We'll be off balance and blinded most of the meeting.”

“Do you have sunglasses?” Lynn asked.

“Yes,” Dena answered.

“Good, then follow my lead, everything else we need is in this bag.” She patted the large purse-style bag on her shoulder. “Let's do this,” she said ruthlessly, like a general going into battle. “And by the way, lunch is on you.”

Dena smiled. This was new. The tone in Lynn's voice was harsh and fearless. She seemed almost ferociously angry as a single, focused glare covered her eyes. She was on a mission. And for some reason, at that moment, Dena pitied Adel.

The executive offices of the prestigious law firm were exactly what might be expected. Large, impressive, masterfully and meticulously designed for maximum effect. “Appearances make statements,” Adel was always fond of saying. The show of power and money was the perception of power and money. And Adel, thanks to the death of her husband and two sons inherited an amassed fortune worth in the millions.

Having grown up poor and on the wrong side of town, Adel Cooper Graham worked her way to the top of the food chain through grit and determination. She kept to her goal, focused and remained true. A formidable foe, she was a dangerous woman but only to those who challenged or threatened her.

Dena threatened her.

They walked into the main office then were escorted to the nearby conference room. Stately and majestic, again for appearances' sake, it was covered and filled with tedious worker bees all humming around for a single entity, Adel Graham.

The exalted queen, presumably absent, wasn't a lawyer but she knew more about the law than most of the men in the room.

Gaylord Till walked over and needlessly introduced himself having known Dena and Forester for years. He was Adel's eyes and ears at the law firm. A senior partner, she handled him and he took care of her and her interests. “Ladies, please come in, have a seat,” he said with the scant Southern accent he often used to the extreme to throw his opponents off guard with an exaggerated Southern mild-mannered gentry.

Dena knew his tricks well; after all, she had been part of the family for two years. They were corporate law and she was family law, not even in the same league as far as they were concerned. So, mostly ignored and overlooked at family and business occasions she tucked herself away and just listened closely.

Never mindful of her, they spoke openly of battle scars, weaknesses and leverage. So Dena learned all the office gossip, the deadly secrets and the bits and pieces of interesting hearsay, that only an insider would be privy to. Yes, she remembered Gaylord Till very well.

“Coffee?” he offered, nodding across the room. Two blank-faced assistants stood instantly to retrieve coffee as the two associates leaned in to talk between themselves.

“No thank you,” Lynn said calmly. “We'd just like to get started.”

“As you wish,” Gaylord said, nodding to an associate. He walked across the room and opened a side door. Two more associates entered followed by Adel Graham. She glanced at Dena, half smiled maliciously, then nodded confidently. It had begun again.

They ushered her to a seat against the far wall below the row of uncovered windows as each of them took a prominent place at the conference table in front of her. The men remained standing until Adel sat, then as Dena and Lynn positioned themselves opposite and sat. They sat in unison then opened their folders as if cued.

Lynn side-glanced Dena. The absurdity of the placement was beyond humorous. Resembling a football front line protecting a quarterback, the positioning was supposed to be intimidating; she'd remembered the strategy well and was glad that she'd briefed Lynn as to what they might expect.

Gaylord cleared his throat. “Shall we begin,” he prompted. “The law firm of…” He paused as Lynn reached into her large purse and pulled out a standard tape recorder then placed it on the table and pressed the record button.

“Ms. Brice, we have a stenographer available if you haven't noticed.” He motioned to a older woman sitting in the corner with a small device in front of her. “We usually take full dictation and send out transcripts upon request.”

“That's very generous, but no thanks, I got this.”

Gaylord turned to his associates, cleared his throat again then continued. “The law firm of Graham, Whitman & Morris would like to again offer our sincere condolences to Mrs. Adel Graham and to Dena Graham…”

“Mrs. Forester Graham,” Lynn corrected immediately.

“Yes, of course, Mrs. Forester Graham. As such, Mrs. Adel Graham has been extremely generous in offering a sum equal to the due tenure of the union of…”

“Legally sanctioned marriage,” Lynn corrected again.

“Yes—” Gaylord cleared his throat “—legally sanctioned marriage, in as much…” He paused.

Lynn leaned over to Dena and they both reached into their purses and pulled out dark sunglasses, covering their eyes against the brightness of the morning sun glaring at them. “Continue,” Lynn prompted humorously.

Dena smiled, barely able to contain herself. The absurdity of them sitting at a conference table in the middle of a meeting with dark sunglasses on was hysterical. Yet here they were.

The assistants turned to each other curiously questioning protocol.

“Is the glare of the sun too intense?” one of the associates asked, smirking.

“Not at all. We're fine, please continue.”

Gaylord asked an assistant on the end to lower and dim the blinds. He did but Lynn and Dena kept their sunglasses on. “We'll continue now,” Gaylord said, then nodded to an assistant on the opposite end of the table. He stood and handed out a sheet of paper to Adel, Gaylord, the associates, the assistants and finally to Lynn and Dena.

“Mrs. Adel Graham has been extremely generous in offering a sum equal to the due tenure of the legally sanctioned marriage of her son, Forester Graham to Dena Graham. That offer has since been adjusted. Please feel free to discuss this, but mind you the terms are nonnegotiable. Signing today will end this, finally. A continuance is unacceptable.”

He reached into his pocket, pulled out his favorite fountain pen that had to cost him at least six hundred dollars and placed it in the center of the table. “I'd like to offer you my pen,” he said graciously.

Lynn smiled and reached for the pen. “Thank you, Gaylord, that's very generous of you,” Lynn offered. Gaylord smiled and turned to Adel who was also smiling.

When he turned back to the table he saw Lynn place the pen in her big bag, then she picked up the paper placed in front of her and tore it up in eight equal pieces without even looking at it.

She stood.

Dena stood.

Without saying a word they walked out.

Everyone's mouth in the room dropped wide open. Seconds later the room went into an uproar as everyone began talking at once. “Wait a minute, wait a minute, get out,” Adel said to the stenographer who, stunned by the turn of events, had since stopped dictating. When the door closed behind her, Adel turned to Gaylord. “What the hell just happened here?” she asked.

“She took my pen,” Gaylord said.

“Screw the pen, what just happened?” she repeated.

“They obviously turned down your offer,” an associate said, slightly impressed with the countered theatrics.

Adel gritted her teeth. “That much is painfully obvious, thank you. What are we going to do about it?” Gaylord didn't answer. Adel turned to him and repeated her question. “I want ideas and suggestions now.”

Instantly a new strategy was planned and several particulars for consideration were proposed. From the absurd to the ridiculous and there in between comments ranged and were vocalized.

Adel, completely silent throughout the proceedings, took point, detailing exactly what she intended to do and have done to several of them not exactly legal or legitimate.

A knock sounded and the door opened. Everyone stopped, hushed and looked. Lynn poked her head in and smiled, then chuckled. “Sorry, I'd been practicing that exit forever and wouldn't you know I'd blow it.” She giggled like a schoolgirl as she walked over to the conference table, turned off the tape recorder and placed it in her bag. “Thanks, for everything.” She left. The exact repeat of the earlier openmouthed surround room returned this time a bit more fearful.

“What was that?” Adel asked.

“That was our asses in a sling,” an associate said.

“File a motion to suppress the tape,” Gaylord ordered one of the associates.

“On what grounds?” someone asked.

“Interfering with due process, violating client attorney privilege, eavesdropping on private conversations, Peeping Tom, I don't care, damn it, just file something, now. Now,” Gaylord said, raising his voice. Two associates immediately rushed out of the conference room.

“Why do we need to file a suppression?” Adel asked.

“Do you have any idea what damaging information is on that tape recorder?” Gaylord said, rushed. “The other partners will be livid when this is made public. A conference room at Graham, Whitman & Morris filled with its attorneys conspiring to commit fraud, conspiracy, malicious intent and even murder would ruin us.”

“I wouldn't worry about all that now,” Adel said.

Everyone turned and looked at her as if she were insane.

“Mrs. Graham, if anyone ever heard it, this firm would be a laughingstock. We'd all be up on charges,” an associate added.

“Not everybody, some of those suggestions are downright illegal. In particular the one to have Dena Graham permanently quieted. I believe we even mentioned a name, a previous acquitted client, as someone we could use to perform the act,” another spoke. Several curse words pitted the room. “Neither the police nor the law review board would find that too humorous if indeed something were to happen to Ms. Graham.”

BOOK: Following Love
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