Silver Mayor: The Silver Foxes of Blue Ridge

by L. B. Dunbar

  “Let’s just get to Papi,” I tell her before the call for prayers, and my soul begins again.

  On the twenty-minute drive to the hospital, my mind replays the brief conversations Charlie and I had during the night.

  I don’t want to pressure you. I just want you to know I’d like to see you. Outside of work. Outside of these moments. I want to date you, learn more about you, Charlie told me in the late hours.

  I want those things, too, Charlie, but now isn’t the time, I said, and I’m thankful he thought it was because of my father and not because I have a deal with Richard, and I can’t break it. I will not risk losing my child. Not even for Charlie.

  I don’t want Lucy to go to her mother’s, but I don’t have a choice. I follow the rules of the custody decree so as not to make waves with her. The frustration in his voice reminded me of what he’d said about his powerhouse ex-wife and the bitch she is. Who takes photos for future leverage over her husband? What mother uses her child like that? Maybe during those two weeks, we could at least meet here and have dinner together.

  We know each other pretty well, I teased, but I knew what he meant. More than the physical attraction, there was something just under my skin that told me Charlie was a good man and a good fit for me. I just didn’t know if I was ready to expose all my secrets or my heart to him.

  Charlie shifted on the bed while I joked. You know I want you for more than your body, right? I want your laughter and your smile. I want the tender touch you’ve given Lucy and the love in your eyes for Vega. I want to hear all your ideas and make you fall in love with my city. Underlying his speech were almost the words…almost the plea for me to fall in love with him, but it seemed silly that Charlie would ask such a thing of me when I was fighting it myself. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to love him; it was that I couldn’t yet.

  I drop Mami off at the hospital entrance and find a spot in the parking lot. Entering the main lobby, I do a double take when I see the devil himself sitting in a seat in the waiting area.

  “Richard,” I hiss, stepping up to my ex-husband. A woman I don’t recognize sits next to him. She looks more formal than Richard’s typical type with a tight knot of hair at the base of her neck and subtle makeup. Richard’s wearing dark track pants and a long-sleeved shirt with Atlanta across the chest while this woman wears a fitted pantsuit. My ex-husband is a Viking of sorts with sandy blond hair curling against his nape and a sculpted beard. He’s tall and broad with strength in his arms from being a center fielder. He’s a good-looking man, but he’s lost his luster and will never be handsome to me again.

  Richard rubs his hands along his thighs and then stands. Stepping up to me, he leans in to kiss my cheek, but I step back on instinct.

  “Janessa,” he states my name before looking over his shoulder at the woman watching us.

  “What are you doing here?” I question, shifting my eyes to the woman. She looks like a lawyer. “I see you brought your latest dish with you.”

  The woman scowls behind a pair of glasses.

  “I heard about your father. I came as soon as I could,” Richard says, ignoring my comment.

  I don’t even want to know how he knew I was here or that my father had fallen ill, but then again…

  “How did you know?” I hiss, risking a glance at the lawyer-looking lady. Is Richard stalking me? Having me followed?

  “Janessa, you know I’ll always know where you are,” he says, and I hold up a hand, not interested in him telling me how I’m his, I’ll always be his, like he broke down at our divorce reading.

  “I signed away everything to prevent this kind of thing,” I tell him.

  “I’m…changing,” Richard says, looking over his shoulder at the woman behind him.

  “Who is she?” I snap, nodding in her direction.

  “This is Ruthie Avery. She’s my sports manager.”

  I tip my head, well aware that Richard has an agent, and it’s not a woman. His agent made sure I didn’t know my worth with Richard. I stare at the woman who stands and offers a hand. Shaking it in return, she clarifies who she is.

  “I’m actually an image manager. I work with Imperial Sports Associates, the company that represents Mr. Swank.”

  “A what?” I ask

  “Image manager. I work with athletes to…umm…rectify their reputation.” Ruthie clears her throat, glancing up at Richard. My head swings back and forth between them. Is she sleeping with him? I tell myself I don’t care, and I don’t. However, she looks like an intelligent woman who wouldn’t fall for his bullshit. I turn back to Richard.

  “What happened in Houston?” I snap. Mid-season trades are not unheard of in baseball, but Richard being moved seems unprecedented. Nothing is ever simple with him.

  Scratching at the back of his neck, he says, “Is there somewhere we can talk?”

  My head vigorously shakes. “No. I’m here for my father, and you’re leaving.” My voice is rising, and Ruthie steps forward.

  “Richard,” Ruthie warns.

  “Janessa, I need this,” Richard groans, ignoring the woman’s hand rising before him, a signal from his image manager to step back.

  “No, oh no. Whatever you’re thinking, no.” I don’t even want to know what they might be thinking, but the fact they’re standing here says I’m involved somehow when I want nothing to do with anything to rectify Richard’s reputation.

  “Richard,” Ms. Avery attempts a second time.

  “You owe me,” Richard says, his voice straining.

  “I owe you nothing. You took everything.” Then my eyes widen. Vega. “We have an agreement. A legal, binding agreement. Don’t make me file a restraining order.” My tone turns to ice. I’ve never stood up to Richard as much as I did toward the end. Thankfully, the general manager of his team liked me. He knew there was trouble between us, and he told Richard to sort himself out by giving me what I wanted.

  I wanted nothing but Vega.

  No automobile. No allowance. Not even alimony or child support. I just wanted him to leave us alone.

  “Richard, this isn’t helping,” Ruthie interjects, stepping before Richard and looking up at him. “You hired me for a reason, and you need to listen to me, or there’s no point.”

  Richard turns his head to the side and exhales. Slowly, things fall into place. When I left, Richard must have continued in his ways, and the general manager said enough. Rather than keep him for his skill, the team traded him because of his drama. One thing I had to agree to in the divorce was not to mention our divorce until the season ended.

  Helping Richard save face.

  With Ruthie physically between Richard and me, a familiar voice behind me crashes our unwanted reunion.

  “What’s going on here?”

  Charlie?

  A calm I didn’t expect seeps under my skin, and my body prickles with relief at the sound of his voice. As much as I’ve refused his help, his presence strengthens my resolve.

  “Richard, you need to leave.”

  18

  With an Ex Comes a Why?

  [Charlie]

  Richard?

  As I entered the hospital, I paused at the scene before me. A man begging Janessa for something, telling her she owes him. A woman standing between Janessa and a man who is her ex-husband.

  “What’s going on here?” I ask, stepping up to the three of them.

  “Charlie,” Janessa whispers under her breath, her head lowering. My eyes move from her to the woman in a pantsuit.

  “Richard, you need to leave,” Janessa boldly states the second my hand lands on her lower back. When no one speaks after her request, Richard glares at my hand. Janessa stares at her ex, and a third person shakes her head side to side, so I decide to address her first.

  “Charlie Harrington, Mayor of Blue Ridge.”

  The suited woman offers her hand. “Ruthie Avery. I represent this man, Richard Swank.”

  “Nice to meet you. I represent Janessa Cruz,” I state as we shake h
ands.

  Janessa’s ex snorts. “Cruz? It’s Swank.”

  Holding up my hand to signal he stop talking, I interject. “I’m certain this isn’t a sympathy visit but being as Ms. Cruz has family in this hospital, I suggest you make an appointment with my office, and we can discuss what you’re doing here at that time.”

  “I’m not his attorney,” Ruthie clarifies. “I’m his image manager.”

  My brows pinch, but I know what this means. Angela has someone similar in her campaign for office. That person came up with the single-mother angle.

  “Well, I am an attorney as well as the mayor, and I still request an appointment, but not today.” Slipping my hand to her elbow, I gently nudge her to start moving.

  “Nessa?” her ex-husband pleads.

  “Keep moving,” I mutter as we turn for the elevator. Heavy feet stomp behind me, and I release Janessa’s arm, telling her to go ahead, and then I spin to face her ex-husband.

  “Mr. Swank, don’t make me call the sheriff.”

  This stops the baseball player in his tracks, and he narrows his eyes at me. The woman behind him lowers her head in defeat. “She’s my wife.” Richard speaks over my shoulder, and I sense Janessa has not left the hallway.

  “Actually, she’s not,” I remind him.

  His head tips. “How do you know that?” His voice has lowered, and he pauses, taking me in. He’s taller than me by a few inches and broader, but I’d scrap with him if I need to. I might be considered the good one, but as the youngest of four brothers, I know how to fight.

  His voice turns sinister when he leans forward and says, “Are you doing her? You tap that?”

  Stepping up to him, I casually slip my hands into my pockets to conceal my fists and control the vibration of anger coming over my body. “Mr. Swank, I’d advise you to be respectful.” I’m not about to explain to him attorney-client confidentiality, and then I swallow hard around the word. Client. Not only do Janessa and I have the employer-employee confines, but now I’m crossing other lines of attorney-client privilege.

  I glance at the image manager. “I’m not certain what the goal is here, but I suggest you keep your client in control, or he’ll have more than his image to repair.”

  “Are you threatening me?” Richard says, closing the distance between us. My eyes roam the size of his body, and his manager steps up to his back, warning him with a stern voice.

  “I wouldn’t dream of it,” I say, crooking up my lip because believe it or not, I can play dirty if I need to. I learned from the master. My ex-wife.

  At my side once again, Janessa’s soft voice speaks. “Richard, go away.”

  “Are you protecting him? Why are you protecting him? Are you fucking him?” Her ex-husband’s voice escalates as he leans closer to me, ready to chest bump me like boys in the schoolyard. Janessa’s fingers wrap around my upper arm, and I want to sneer at him, point out she’s touching me, not him, but I stop myself.

  “Richard, this isn’t helping,” his image manager interjects while Janessa encourages me, “Charlie, walk with me.”

  The plea in her tone and the words themselves turn my head. I’d follow her anywhere and gladly be her knight in shining armor.

  + + +

  “I’m sorry you saw that,” Janessa states, keeping her head lowered before we enter the elevator. With another person inside the lift, we don’t speak, and she feels miles away from me. When we silently arrive at the telemetry unit, Janessa picks up the pace when she sees a man talking on the phone outside her father’s room. Rushing up to him, they collide in a hug but quickly separate. By the time I’ve made it to them, her arms flap, her voice angrily animated as she addresses a man who is definitely her sibling. Same jet-black hair and same brilliant green eyes although his are slightly lighter.

  “How could you do this to me?” she groans, tossing her arms out to her sides while she speaks to her brother.

  “He called me drunk and whining. He said he just wanted to talk to Vega. Talk.”

  “So you told him where we are?” Her voice rises.

  “He says he doesn’t have her number,” he states as if that’s an explanation.

  “I threw her phone away.”

  My brows lift at this information. Janessa hangs her head, shaking it from side to side, and her brother reaches out for her shoulder.

  “I’m sorry, Nessa.”

  His hand comes to her shoulder, but she swats it off her. “I can’t believe this.” She reaches forward and shoves his shoulder. His eyes widen, but then he smiles as if he recognizes something in his sister.

  “Ah, there she is,” he teases, and she punches his other shoulder. Within a second, she’s smacking him left to right, and I step in. Slipping an arm around her waist, I tug her back.

  “No,” she snarls, still reaching for her sibling, and her brother chuckles.

  “Zander Cruz, and you are?” He tweaks a thick brow.

  “Charlie Harrington.” I wait only a second for the name to register since I employ his parents.

  Janessa struggles in my arms, hers still grappling like she wants to scratch her brother’s eyes out.

  “Well, this is interesting,” Zander teases, a suggestive twist to his lips.

  “You know nothing,” Janessa snaps. “You’re so stupid, Zander.”

  The words intend to hurt, and for a second, it shows on his face that they’ve met their mark, but then he looks away from her. “I didn’t think he’d show up here.”

  “That’s the problem, Zander. You never think.” Janessa settles against me, her hands curling over my forearm at her waist. “I can’t talk to you right now.”

  Her brother has the grace to nod once and then roll off the wall, turning in the direction of the door to her father’s room. He disappears inside it, and Janessa whispers, “Charlie, let go of me.”

  “We need to talk,” I demand, tugging her under my arm for a small solarium at the end of the hall. I shut the door behind us as I release her, and she stumbles forward. Both her hands slip into her thick dark hair, tugging it free from the knot in the back. She reaches for the hairband and loosens all her hair, and I have a flash of her last night in bed. How are we standing here like this now, breathing heavily at one another?

  “Sit,” I command, and her brows lift. “As your attorney, I need to know everything.”

  “You are not my attorney,” she says.

  “I am now.” My eyes narrow at her, warning her not to argue with me.

  “I don’t need your help,” she snaps.

  “The fuck you don’t.” I exhale, swiping a hand through my hair. “I’m not leaving you to take care of him on your own or whatever noble thing you think you can handle without support. I need the truth. Now.” Something in my expression warns her to follow my demand.

  She lowers in a seat, but I remain standing. Slipping my hands into my pockets, I’m trying to stay calm.

  What the fuck is her ex doing here, and what does he want?

  “I was married to Richard for ten years.” I know this fact, and I stare down at her until she looks up at me, and repeats, “Ten years.”

  Ah. A shotgun wedding.

  “I’d fallen for his charm while I worked for Arizona’s marketing team. His agent thought a marriage and a baby would be good for his reputation because he’d always been volatile. A hothead on and off the field. Eventually, he was transferred to Houston, and I gave up my career to follow him. I was arm candy,” she states, turning her head in the direction of the window. “I was so stupid.”

  “Don’t say that about yourself,” I hiss, knowing we all do things when we’re young and want to believe in love.

  “No, really. I didn’t sign a prenup. Pregnant,” she emphasizes. “I thought he’d never do anything to ruin us. He needed me, and I loved him.” Her voice strains.

  “Without a prenup, you could have sued him for everything,” I say, and her head hangs again, her hair curtaining her face. I lower to a crouch before her.
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  “Okay, keep talking.” I soften my voice, desperate to touch her knee and assure her I understand.

  “I didn’t care about the money. I’d never had any, and I didn’t know how to live the rich and famous lifestyle anyway.” Her head lifts. “I’m a poor girl with immigrant parents, raised by my grandmother in a shit part of Texas. I came from nothing, so I misunderstood everything. Just stand there and look good, Nessa,” she mocks. “He didn’t respect my education, career, or opinion. I was a pretty piece of ass, and he was stuck with a baby and me.”

  I swallow back the bile in my throat. Richard Swank is the asshole, not her.

  “Vega walking in on him was the last straw. I couldn’t have her exposed to his lifestyle. I shouldn’t have let so much slide.” She shakes her head again. “But I knew I’d have nothing if I left before that incident. I’d burned bridges when I left Arizona. My work experience was over a decade old. And I had no money without him. Do you have any idea how hard it was to come to my parents?” Her voice lowers. “I’m forty-three and using my dad’s truck like a teenager, sleeping in a twin bed across from my daughter, and borrowing money from my parents to buy clothes for my new job.”

  “I’ll give you a raise,” I say, and she bitterly chuckles.

  “It isn’t about the money, Charlie. It’s my pride.” Her fingers clasp together as she balances her arms on her knees. “I wanted so much more for myself, and then for Vega, and look where I’m at.” Her eyes close.

  “You’re where you’re supposed to be,” I whisper. Here. With me.

  “I don’t know what Richard’s doing here.”

  “I suppose, if that woman really is an image manager, they’re hoping you’ll serve some purpose for him. Supportive ex-husband? Man wanting to see his kid? He shows good faith by coming to your side at a time of need.”

  I’m missing something here. Even my explanation doesn’t make sense to my ears.