Clue Into Kindness

by Gay N. Lewis

  “Let’s discuss business. The shipment arrived, and we’re ready to display it in our stores.”

  “Ah. Talk of Italy still makes you uncomfortable. Okay, we’ll study the best way to show Savini Sportswear in your domains.”

  They conversed regarding the shipment until they arrived at the luncheon spot. Giovanni opened the door, stepped out, and held his hand to Georgia.

  Her stomach plummeted to her toes, but she kept her gaze on the sidewalk. Why did this guy have such an enormous effect on her? From his comments and subtle touches, he perceived it, too. The way he gazed into her eyes brought goose bumps to her flesh. He treated her as though she were a princess. A warning signaled her brain. This can’t be good.

  After they ordered, Giovanni’s scrutiny traveled her face. “I can’t stop myself from repeating it. You are amazing today. I’m going to ask again. How about a photo shoot wearing several of our designs? You’d sell the product. You are the first person I consider when I deliberate a new ad campaign.” He cocked one brow. “Actually, I think of you more often than that.”

  Georgia gulped. “That’s nice.” That’s nice? Good grief! What a mundane thing to say. She pressed her hand firmly against her stomach. Why didn’t these butterflies go away?

  She shook her head. “No thanks. Posing in front of a camera is not for me.”

  “But you are contemplating working with me, right?”

  “Yes. Lately I am.”

  “Oh? We’ve talked frequently and I always mention how much I covet you with me. You’ve never seemed to seriously consider it, and even now you don’t want to wear our designs in commercials. What’s happened in life to bring your ideas to include a job at Savani?”

  Georgia waved her hand. “Nothing. Just assuming a change of scenery would be good for me.”

  He stared at her for a long moment as if she owned his world. “I can provide one.”

  Georgia nodded and busied herself with utensils.

  * * *

  “Can you spare a few hours to cruise around for a bit? I’d love to spend more time with you.” Giovanni asked his question and made his statement as he held the car door for her.

  “No, but thanks. I should return to the office.” She scooted over as he descended into the luxurious leather and sat beside her. “You’ve given me new ideas for Savini displays.”

  After Giovanni gave instructions to the driver, Georgia took a deep breath. Huge mistake. His cologne reminded her of a piney woods blended with spice—a distinct masculine aroma and it catered to sophistication and European style. Why did this man produce this overwhelming effect on her? She placed moist palms in her lap and concentrated on business matters.

  When they arrived at Georgia’s building, Giovanni stepped out and offered his hand to Georgia. She exited the automobile and released his palm.

  Taking a calming breath, Georgia gazed up at her host. “I’ve made a decision.”

  Giovanni lifted both eyebrows. “Yes?”

  “Thank you very much for your offer to work for Savini, but I must decline.”

  With a long face to rival any kicker who missed a football field goal attempt, Giovanni stared at her. “What did I do? You were interested earlier. Did I say something wrong? Seemed to me we were getting along swimmingly.”

  As her hands trembled, and eyes brimmed with tears, Georgia shook her head. “To the contrary, you did and said everything very well. Frankly—too well.” She bit her lip, glanced away, and then back at him. “I believe we both can acknowledge we sense an intense chemistry for each other, and such attraction might lead to dangerous waters. I’m a married woman, not a happily married one at the moment, but nevertheless I’ve made a commitment to a fine man and I intend to keep my vows.” Tears multiplied and spilled over. She brushed them aside with shaky fingers.

  Giovanni’s expression turned buttery soft. “I admire your honesty. You’re right. We formed an unusual bond the instant we met. I convinced myself I was succeeding in avoiding my affections for you. I guess I didn’t do a good job of hiding them.”

  Georgia’s laugh resembled a lonely foghorn, even to her. “Attraction to another person is not a bad thing. What we do with it, or about it, can be.”

  “You are a wise woman with kind ways.”

  “Thank you. To be truthful, I enjoyed your charm and the way you made me feel, but I can’t allow this relationship to grow. From this point on, it would be better if Ms. Easterly calls on me.” She squared her shoulders. “If that isn’t agreeable to you, I’m prepared to cancel our contract with Savini Sportswear.”

  With a sigh heaved from the depth of his toes, Giovanni shook his head. “No need. I won’t contact you personally again. We will conduct business through Nancy Easterly.”

  “Thank you.” Georgia turned on her heel, ready to enter her office building.

  “Georgia?”

  She swiveled to face Giovanni.

  His smile suggested sadness. “Your husband is a fortunate man and I hope your marriage grows happier.”

  “Thanks. I do, too.”

  “If it doesn’t, don’t forget where I am.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Georgia sighed as she pulled into the garage. The day had been an exhausting one. She’d tried to forget the sadness in Giovanni’s eyes when they parted. But she had to. She owed her allegiance to Alan, and she loved him.

  Alan. Another night with him and his unkindness—how she dreaded it. If she might discover what she’d done to make him so unhappy, she would correct it, but he refused to clue her in as to the reason he avoided her.

  When she opened the door leading into the kitchen, Alan sat at the table with his head buried in his hands and shoulders shaking. Placing her handbag on the tan and white granite countertop, she walked over to him.

  “Are you okay?”

  Alan lifted his chin while unheeded tears streamed down his face.

  Georgia knelt at his feet. “Oh honey! What happened?”

  Alan said nothing.

  “Honey, tell me. What’s wrong? Do these tears have anything to do with the silent treatment lately? Have I hurt your feelings?”

  “What’s going on in my life has nothing to do with you. I found out why my mother left me. I…I…phoned…her today.” Alan choked out the words.

  Georgia’s hand flew to her mouth as she experienced a sudden rapid heartbeat. “I’m confused. How did you find her?”

  Alan gulped several times. “Dad gave me her phone number. She lives in Dallas. Would you go this weekend with me to visit with her?”

  “Of course I will. He knew where she lived?” Georgia placed her hands on Alan’s knees and stared up at him.

  Alan nodded and tears began again. “She…verified...Dad’s…story.”

  Georgia gasped. “What story?”

  “Dad caused her to run away and she agreed to never contact me in the divorce degree.”

  “What? I don’t understand.” Georgia arose, took a chair beside Alan, grasped his hand in hers and held it across the table.

  “Dad bullied her until she couldn’t stand it. She needed money to start a new life and agreed to live without me. Dad thought his threat would make her stay, but she found it impossible to endure the marriage any longer.” With his free hand, he wiped his face with a handkerchief. “To survive, she gave in to his demands.”

  Georgia shook her head. “I can’t imagine.”

  Alan locked his red-rimmed gaze to hers. “Dad says you can because I do the same to you. He says you are stronger than my mother and believes your strength enables you to stay rather than leave me.”

  “Oh, honey, I love you.” Tears sprang to her eyes and began to fall.

  “My mom loved Dad, but she said she couldn’t take it.”

  “Really? Goodness! What did he do to her?”

  “I don’t recall any of it, but they both confirmed that Dad constantly criticized and tormented her. Dad tried to improve everything Mom did, things she said, how she d
rove a car, the clothes she wore, the friends she had, her tennis game.” With his free hand, Alan pinched his nose and shuddered. “Dad claims I do such stuff to you.”

  The grip on her fingers tightened.

  “Do I?”

  Georgia nodded as drops of agony rolled down her cheeks. “You can be disapproving at times.”

  “I didn’t realize. I’m so sorry. I love you and want us to live an enviable life among our friends.”

  “As long as we include each other, no one else matters.”

  “To me it did. I needed people to admire us. Have you ever thought of divorcing me?”

  Georgia shook her head. “No, but I thought about accepting a traveling job to maintain a distance between us.”

  Alan jammed his eyes shut and then opened them to stare at her. “I wouldn’t like it if you did. Will you help me change?” He shook his head. “I don’t want to lose you, but I’m clueless as to what I’ve done.”

  “Of course I will, but I’ll ask a favor of you.”

  “What?”

  “When I contradict one of your hurtful statements, don’t become angry and argumentative.”

  Alan blinked rapidly but nodded. “I promise to try. How have I wounded you?”

  Well, let’s see—pestering me on weight issues, ignoring my political opinions, criticizing my cooking, very few compliments and seldom expressing affection…to name some of the ways.”

  “To me, those topics showed concern and love. I wanted you to come up to my level.”

  Georgia nodded. “I accepted those reasons and overlooked them, but you are asking what I found offensive, and by the way, your last remark sounds a bit insulting. I believe we are on the same plane of achievement.”

  “There I go again. I didn’t realize how my remark might impact you.”

  “The beautiful thing is, you do now.”

  “Old thought patterns are difficult to break. Will you disappear like my mom did if I fail?”

  Georgia moved from her chair to sit in Alan’s lap. “Never. We’ll work this out together.” She drew his face to hers.

  When she broke the kiss, Alan smiled. “Have I ever told you what a great kisser you are?”

  Georgia giggled as though she were a nervous teenager. “No, but I like hearing it.”

  “Is that a start?”

  Her breath grew shorter. Would her heart hammer out of her chest? She nodded. “Certainly is. I’m grateful your dad got through to you.”

  Alan caressed her hair. “I need to overcome so many bad habits. If my mother had been as kind and gentle as you, Dad might have altered his behavior.”

  “Perhaps. On the other hand, it often takes a catastrophic event to bring about change.”

  “True. I’m thankful none came our way.”

  At his remark, memories of Giovanni crowded her concentration, and she glanced into the distance.

  Alan’s eyebrows rose as he gazed at her. He must wonder what thoughts creep into my mind.

  Oops. Well, she could erase any doubts Alan had in a heartbeat, and she’d enjoy doing it.

  Georgia gave Alan an enigmatic smile. No need to say it. She’d chosen well. Giovanni was no longer a temptation. It never ceases to amaze me how quickly a situation can change. Thank you, Lord.

  She didn’t voice her feelings. She kissed her husband again.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Gay N. Lewis, a Texas minister’s wife, writes about angels and romance. Often called upon as an inspirational speaker, she uses humor with Biblical teaching.

  With the exception of one year in Oklahoma, Gay N. Lewis and her pastor husband served churches in Texas and are currently with a church outside of Houston. Before becoming a full time author, Gay’s livelihood embraced interior design, photography, and communication. She’s written and produced videos for the retail market and local churches. These videos include Psalms from the Mountains and The Canadian Rockies.

  Prism Book Group signed her in 2012 to a three-book contract for the Sarah series. Sarah is a dyslexic angel who romantically links couples together, but she does it with a lot of whacky goof ups along the way. The Sarah series is a bit of I Love Lucy, I Dream of Jeanie, and Touched by an Angel rolled into one.

  Prism Book Group signed Gay N. Lewis to a second three book contract in 2013. Three additional Sarah books were added in 2014, and another three book contract for 2015. Each of the Sarah books has been on Amazon’s Best Seller List. Although a series with Sarah as the main character, each book stands alone.

  Please enjoy this excerpt from Greener Grasses, the next book in Prism’s Love Is series.

  Church bells tolled their arrival. Already a stream of cars dotted the parking spaces like soldiers lined for battle. For Erin Ballinger Duncan it seemed appropriate. Today she’d combat an overwhelming struggle of the heart. Well, perhaps it could involve skirmish for territory as well—in a strange sort of way. But she pushed away the thought.

  Erin stepped out of the mortuary’s limousine with her husband, John, and their two fifteen-year-old sons, Travis and Austin. She shielded her eyes from the bright sunlight, a total dichotomy from the darkness brewing in her emotions. She scanned the church driveway and scoffed. Yep, her sister emerged from the limo behind them. “The ‘perfect family’ has arrived. What no trumpets?”

  John rolled his eyes. “Don’t start, Erin. Not now.”

  “Whatever. She still makes me want to puke. Perfect life, perfect kids, perfect husband…”

  “Stop, okay?” John spoke in her ear with a hiss. “Can’t you two get along for three hours? For your mom’s sake, and mine, by the way.”

  A residual hurt sounded in his tone. Once again she’d compared him to her sister’s spouse. Erin bit her lip and turned away.

  Her twin sister, Ellen, sauntered towards them in her black linen three-piece ensemble, which probably cost more than Erin’s monthly grocery bill. Not to mention the onyx and pearl earrings with matching necklace set against her country club tanned skin, or her perfectly curled coiffure. Erin ran a hand over her own short curls, still slightly warm from the hotel hairdryer. When did Ellen find the time to book a hairdresser? They only heard news of their mother’s death three days ago.

  Ellen’s husband, Robert—never called Bob because that would be too gauche and informal—followed in what appeared to be a custom tailored suit accented by a designer tie. Their three girls, Brittany, Elena, and Jade, slithered out next, all without a wrinkle in their dresses. Miniatures of their mother. Each carried herself with shoulders back and spine straight as if the pavement to the sanctuary was a style show catwalk. Most likely the posh, private girls’ school they attended made them strut with rulers on their heads in order to maintain proper posture.

  She felt John’s firm hand press the small of her back. She knew the gesture reiterated his demand she behave civilly today. He stood poised in case feminine claws emerged. Erin huffed through her cheeks. “Okay, John. I’ll try. But if one snarky remark escapes from her surgically sculptured ruby lips, it won’t end up pretty.”

  Ellen brushed past them with a nod, her brood and hubby in tow like peacocks on parade. Erin stretched her mouth in a tight smile as the sisters made brief eye contact. Then, with a slam of the limo door, she gathered her boys around her and nudged them ahead. Friends, acquaintances, and distant family silently trudged up the steps to the sanctuary doors. Most dressed in black with heads down or glassy eyes set straight ahead above clenched jaws. Typical funeral protocol.

  As the families mounted the concrete stairs to the entry, Erin’s gaze panned her sister’s slim-legged length that ended in a pair of five-inch stilettos, most likely Christian Louboutin. Yep, red soles. How much did those cost?

  With each stride, Erin pressed her high-heeled sore feet to the pavement so she wouldn’t wobble. How did high society women wear these all day? Ballet flats or sneakers were more her style as a discount store floor manager.

  A blast of too cold air conditioning and organ m
usic hit her senses as the ushers opened the doors for the family to walk down a separate side aisle. Combatting tears, Erin sucked in a lungful of air and marched chin up—not so much in imitation of her twin but to refrain from noticing the sympathetic faces of those already seated. Her mother always told her daughters to never cry in public.

  “Ellen. Robert.” John whispered their names and nodded for them and their girls to enter the reserved pew first. They shot him a terse half-smile and proceeded to herd their pristine princesses while John held his two slightly crumpled boys at bay with a firm grasp on their jacket collars.

  The “perfect family” scooted sideways and sat down, which left Erin to sit in front of the post. She leaned into her husband to peer around to the altar. With a hiss she verbalized her complaint. “Thanks, John. Of course Ellen gets the aisle view. No matter.”

  John pulled a deep breath through his nose and let it out in an elongated sigh as he snapped open the pew bulletin.

  His irritation pierced Erin’s already punctured heart. John, whose best friends were also his brothers, never understood the strained relationship between the twin sisters. Actually, Erin didn’t either. Twins were supposed to have a special bond. Some even had a secret language they shared. Not her and Ellen. No way.

  She blinked back dampness from her lashes, partially over the loss of her mother, but also because of the deep-seated anger and jealousy for Ellen who constantly claimed the limelight. She always had. Second-born by six minutes and seventeen seconds, Erin felt destined to follow her more successful, rich, and stylish sibling. Ellen had always commanded attention while Erin shrunk to the corners.

  A booming voice echoed off the mahogany rafters of the two hundred-year-old nave. “I am the Resurrection and the Life…”

  All heads turned as the pallbearers wheeled the draped casket down the center aisle, the minister following as he finished reading the passage from the Book of Revelation. A slight squeak emitted from one of the casters as the funeral procession passed. Travis spewed a nervous giggle. John gave him a brushing bop across his head. Ellen swirled her torso, raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow and snarled to Erin. “For goodness sake. Can’t you teach your kids to behave in church?”