by Amy Faye
He hadn't predicted it was going to be such a big deal, or so difficult, in the beginning. It ought to have been easy. After all, the plan was a good one. It was damn near foolproof, and he was more than capable of dealing with it.
She rested off to the side, talking to a couple of other women. Their dates came up to join them and he drank a sip. That was when he should have noticed it first, but he didn't. To Dan, it was just another group of men, meeting up with their girlfriends or wives. There were three of them, and five women, including Sarah.
Her face darkened, for an instant, but she hid it well. He'd always tried to give her credit where it was due, and it was due there. She was good at hiding when she was annoyed.
"You were saying, Mr. Bryant? About the downtown development?"
"I'm sorry?" He tried to remember what it was he'd been saying precisely, but the thought was already gone from his mind.
"The downtown development. You were saying that you'd landed the contract for it?"
"Oh, right," he said. He smiled broadly and tapped his palm on his forehead. "I'm sorry, I was just checking on my wife."
"Newlyweds," one of the men said knowingly. "I understand."
"Yeah, we're going to be breaking ground tomorrow morning."
"And you figure, what, a year?"
Dan snorted. If he spent as much time slacking as these government boys did, then maybe a year. "I'm targeting six months," he said. It was a lie. He was targeting four, but that was an aggressive goal even by his own standards.
"Six months? I'd be impressed."
Somewhere behind Dan, a voice rose above the level of polite speech. A woman's voice. All the heads in the room swiveled at once, and Dan's was among them. He recognized the voice in an instant, because it belonged to his wife.
"Gentlemen, if you'll excuse me." They muttered something behind him. Sarah's face was twisted up in anger, and he could see that her fists were balled up at her sides before he even started to move.
"Get away from me," she said again.
The man who answered her had his hair slicked back and a dark suit that very nearly matched Dan's own. He said something that would have been too quiet to hear, a moment before. But in the silence that followed anyone making a scene, a silence where Dan could have heard a pin drop, he heard the words. "I asked what you were doing here, doll, and I want you to answer me, now. Do you understand me?"
The voice tickled something in the back of Dan's mind. A vague recollection, a memory that he couldn't precisely put his finger on.
"I'm not having this conversation right now," she said. Dan stepped up behind the guy. He was a little under six feet and his body made a 'v' shape that would have been considered attractive on anyone. The jacket was cut to accentuate it.
"Sarah, you're making a scene."
Dan's hand fell on the guy's shoulder, and he left it there. He didn't bother to whirl the guy around; a hand the size of Dan's, and the guy was going to get the idea, regardless of whether or not the big real estate man put any force into it or not.
The guy whirled, and for an instant he didn't know who he was looking at. Then they both seemed to recognize each other at once.
"I thought I told you," Dan said. His voice was low enough that he hoped nobody would hear it unless they were in the immediate area. He hoped that he could cover up the flare of anger, as well. "The girl doesn't want to talk to you."
"Go fuck yourself, old man," the kid said. He didn't seem to have any interest in keeping himself quiet. And just like the first time, he didn't seem to have any sense of self-preservation at all.
"Cole," a voice called out. Hard, stern. Dan looked over to see Rob Greer step into the circle that had formed around them. "You're making a scene."
The boy, apparently Robert's boy, turned and looked over at the new man.
"This your boy, Bobby?" Dan's voice was hard. If he said no, then the boy was going to find out how it felt to have someone lay his hands on you. It wasn't right or appropriate, and Dan kept telling himself, on repeat, that anger never made anything better for him. He ignored that voice in the back of his mind, the same way that he ignored the feeling in his gut that it was probably going to end badly this time.
"I'm sorry, Dan," Greer said to him. He didn't take his eyes off the boy and Sarah, though. "Is my shithead son giving you a hard time?"
"You ought to have taught him a little manners," Dan said. he was vaguely conscious of the fact that he was insulting the other man, and the fact was that he didn't much care. He was seeing red.
"You're absolutely right," Robert answered. "I thought I had."
"Maybe give him a little instruction on how to talk to a lady, as well."
Robert took in a deep breath through his nose. "Why, is she with you?"
There was an air of something in the question that Dan didn't understand, and frankly didn't want to think about. "That's right. Is that going to be a problem?"
"No problem," Robert said. Dan was certain that he heard a problem in that tone, but he decided not to press the matter. "Just heard you'd gotten married."
"That's right," Dan said. "It was a short engagement."
"I imagine so," Rob said. He pursed his lips together for a second, like he was thinking. Or like he was annoyed. "Hey, congratulations."
"Thank you very kindly," Dan said. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Count back from ten before you do anything. He lifted his hand off the boy's shoulder, and Cole Greer took a step away from him. Towards his father.
"Nice to meet you again, Cole."
Cole just scowled in response, and disappeared into the gathered crowd. Dan stepped up to his wife and looked into her eyes. She looked at him with heat in her eyes, and then she leaned into him and buried her head in her chest.
The situation, at least for the moment, was averted. But Dan couldn't help thinking that he should have avoided it sooner. He drew an arm around her and pulled snug. Late was better than never, he told himself. Then he just had to make himself believe it.
17
Sarah was quiet on the ride home. She had to be. There wasn't much else choice, because she hadn't known him long, but she'd known Dan long enough to be able to tell when he was pretending not to be angry, and she knew that there was no real talking to him when he was like this. Those two facts were enough, even if she didn't know what, if anything, she had done wrong.
She watched the street lights whiz by and waited. Eventually, he'd tell her what was wrong, or he wouldn't. The only reason he wouldn't, she supposed, was that he had calmed down on his own. He certainly wasn't planning on staying mad forever. He never had before, regardless of what it was that had set him off. This was no different than that.
She had a few guesses, either way. The reminder of her ex boyfriend had set her on edge, as well. He stared out the window and worked his hands open and closed, and she let him do that. When they got home, she'd gather up the girls and spend her time with them before bed, or at least before she nominally went to bed.
Dan turned to her and looked at her a long moment, and then looked away without speaking. He was angrier than usual, then. She could tell when he was angry, but the one thing that she couldn't tell was when he was angry with her, rather than with something else.
He wanted something from her; wanted a trophy wife, and he'd been as upfront as anyone could be about it. But even still, it wasn't as if she'd spent her entire life working her way up to being a trophy wife. She didn't have a lot of experience with it.
There were things that she was getting decent enough at, if she let herself believe it. For example, she was getting pretty good at small talk. She knew how to watch for when he wanted her to come over and introduce herself. That happened from time to time, and she knew vaguely that he liked her to make an appearance eerie few minutes.
But how she was supposed to deal with Cole was a whole different question.
He turned to her again. He opened his mouth and hung there for a long time. The seconds
ticked by in her head, with Sarah pretending that she didn't notice. When he spoke, then she'd pay attention. Until then, he was going to take things at whatever pace he wanted to go, and she was going to let him.
He hadn't asked her to act this way; outside of the public eye, he seemed to be fine with her acting however it was that she wanted to act. But she thought it was appropriate. There were few things she wanted, and he gave them to her. If he wanted her to be attentive, then she'd give it.
Until then, she'd give him space and let him work himself out, not because she didn't care but because she didn't want to pressure him. It might have been the wrong thing, but he hadn't asked and if she was going to presume, then she'd treat him the way she'd treated Cole.
"I'm," he started. She turned to acknowledge the words, just in time to see him turn away from him again.
"Is something wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong," he said. He said it in a way that didn't leave her confused about whether or not something was. There certainly was something setting him off, but she didn't know what it was and she had decided not to push him.
"If you need to talk, I'm right here," she said, and then she looked out the window.
Cole would have been angry if she'd gone as far as to say that, but Dan didn't react at all. He seemed to react less than her ex most of the time. By and large, she liked that. Cole was volatile, and you had to walk on eggshells to avoid setting him off at any moment.
On the other hand, Dan was pretty stable, though she'd seen instantaneous flashes of something inside him. Something that would have scared her if he ever directed it her way. She'd seen it when they first met. She'd seen it again when he was looking at Cole tonight.
"Is it about the Greers?"
Dan's voice was a little strained. "He's the father?"
"I was dating Cole for a couple years, and I thought it was serious."
"Was it?"
"I guess not," she said. It had come as a surprise to her to learn that it was anything but serious; when the blindfold had been taken off, and she was suddenly just Cinderella again, it had been jarring. She wasn't going to fall for it a second time if she could help it.
"I'm sorry," he said.
"Please," Sarah said. She hoped that it wasn't insultingly dismissive, but it hadn't occurred to her that he should be sorry for anything. "You didn't have anything to do with that."
"No, Sarah. I mean it. I'm sorry."
"You've got nothing to apologize for. I'm telling you."
"I should've been there to stop him before it got that bad."
She stared across the car at him. He seemed to have taken an exceptional interest in the houses that slid by on the far side of the road, his hand resting against the window and his head ducked low.
"That wasn't bad," she said simply. "It was just what it was."
"Well, I wish I'd been there, either way," he said. He sounded like he'd dug his heels in on the idea.
"Hey," she said. "Look at me, daddy."
He looked over at her, his eyebrow raised. Outside of the bedroom, it wasn't exactly a pet name, and it certainly wasn't one that she used often. But it seemed to get his attention, and from the way that his teeth grit together it seemed to have a Pavlovian response.
"You don't need to be sorry, okay? You didn't do anything wrong."
"I did everything wrong," he said.
"You were fine."
"I should've knocked some sense into that boy."
"Please," Sarah said. She rolled her eyes and smiled. "If he could learn, he'd have done it a long time ago."
"You sure you're alright, babe?"
She nodded. "I'm fine. I promise. There's nothing to worry about."
Sarah reached her hand out for Dan to take, even as she leaned back towards the window and looked outside. They were getting close to the house. He locked his fingers in with hers and squeezed. His hands dwarfed hers, but she squeezed back.
"I appreciate the thought, though."
"Thanks," he said. He let out a breath and unlaced his fingers, and then started tracing his fingers up and down the line of her arm. She let him. She enjoyed the feeling of his hands on her. There were still a thousand questions in her mind, about their relationship, what she meant to him, and what their marriage was supposed to be.
The one thing that she didn't need to ask, out of all of it, was that he liked her. He liked her body, and that was all she'd ever had. So it was more than enough.
They pulled up in front of the house and she opened her door, pulling away from his tracing fingers. "You coming to bed soon?"
"No," he answered as he slipped out his side.
"Work?"
"Work," he answered. She nodded. That wasn't all that strange. At least, she hoped it wasn't. She knew that Cole had always 'worked' late, and for him, work apparently consisted of spending all his time with other women. But Jane was as happily married as Sarah was able to tell, and she seemed to work late just as often.
At least Jane tended to work from home most of the time. In an hour or two, Dan was going to go back out and get to the office, and unless she wanted to be up until the wee hours of the morning, Sarah thought sadly, she was going to have to go to bed alone.
But hey, she told herself as she stepped through the door into the house that still felt extremely new. She wasn't going to be completely alone. After all, the girls were going to be there for her, no matter what else happened, and that was all that she really needed.
That was what she'd signed up for. Everything else she'd gotten on the side, the lovemaking, the parties, the clothes... those were all just extras. The sooner that she remembered that, and started thinking in those terms, the better.
18
Dan Bryant stared at a wall in his office. It was his favorite thing to do when he wanted to avoid doing anything else, anything that might be important. And right now, he had something very important to avoid indeed.
His wife was at home, hopefully asleep by now, and at some point he was going to have to figure out what she was supposed to mean to him. How they were supposed to fit together.
She'd told him that she didn't want him just walking away whenever it became convenient for him to do so, and that was fine. He didn't need a wife for a little while, after all; he needed one because in twenty years, there was going to be talk. Not because it was going to start any day now.
There was a road map. Four or five real big projects, come in on budget and ahead of schedule, and then he started to climb the social ladder properly, quickly, and loudly.
After that, a couple terms as senator, and then a run at the Presidency. Each one of those steps was going to be preceded by a few weeks of consideration, and a month or two of planning to figure out how to get it all done properly. It was efficient, like clockwork, and for the political portion of the climb, he needed a wife. Simple as that.
Of course, in the Detroit political scene, he'd already climbed a bit. There was always a chance that if he wanted to, he could do it on a smaller level; he might be able to run for mayor, or governor, and then work his way up from there. It was as good a solution as anything.
The wife was supposed to be an easy out. But now she was thinking of herself as his wife, and in spite of his better knowledge he was thinking of her the same way, and that worried him.
There were supposed to be boundaries. Professionalism, simplicity, distance, and she was supposed to be exactly what he needed, nothing more.
And to her credit, she'd done her best to act exactly the way that he needed her to. Sarah had hit the ground running, and it might have taken a couple of attempts, but she had moved faster than any reasonable person would have asked. She'd worked harder to give him exactly what he asked of her.
It was everything else that was a problem. He was the problem. His wife was supposed to be a tool. Someone to make him look good, at the expense of anything that happened to go wrong.
She wasn't supposed to be his lover; if he needed one, the
n he could find someone on the side. He hadn't needed to lately, and now, with the absolutely dizzying amount of lovemaking that they were doing, he couldn't have sustained a second woman if he were absolutely desperate for one. A smile crept across his face as he thought of it. God, but there was a lot of sex.
Dan let out a long breath. He'd lost his temper, just a bit. He was usually very careful with it. He could afford to be angry, of course. Nobody can ever really get away from simple emotions. But the reality was that it wasn't safe to really get furious with anyone. To lose control.
Cole Greer had been inches away from finding out how hard a man could really hit, and it was only his father showing up that had turned things away from disaster. Even then, it was only at the very last moment.
There hadn't even been an instant of thought. He'd seen Sarah upset, and he'd seen who caused it, thought of what he'd done and what he might be about to do, and he reacted.
It wasn't as if he didn't understand the reaction. He understood it completely. There was a lot about it that made perfect sense, after all. He hated to see a woman in trouble. Hated to see them upset. Maybe it was wrong of him, but he hated it all the same.
But he was supposed to be making decisions that benefited his future. Making friends with the right people, and helping himself to look good in front of the people whose hands were currently on the levers of power. He could leverage those relationships, get himself a leg up, and up, and up.
He tightened his fist and loosened it again. There was still a little spark in the back of his mind, an ember that refused to burn all the way out.
That alone was a testament to how angry he'd been. Absolutely seeing red. And now, he was on Rob Greer's bad side, and that meant that anyone who was in close with the Greer clan was going to be in the exact same boat.
The mistake he'd made in hiring Sarah was obvious, but only in hindsight. He should have vetted her better, should have put some serious thought into what he was doing. The same way that he had put that thought into every other step of the operation. But he hadn't.
He reacted on emotion with her, the same way that he'd reacted when he saw Cole Greer upsetting her. Emotion had never gotten him into anything but trouble. It got in the way of making smart, conscious decisions. He let out a long breath, closed his eyes, and opened them again.
