The Safety Expert
Page 36
Ben shuffled over to a quiet corner of the living room to carry on his phone consult. But for the healing limp and some leftover scarring on his torso, Ben showed no signs from the accident. As far as Pam knew, he had confessed everything to her—not a solitary detail of the accident left for guesswork. Up to, and including, the miracle of his rescue by a fire crew who had been posted above the rushing river channel, practicing exactly the kind of extraction that Ben had required. Had the fireman not already been nearby, Ben surely would have drowned.
On the day Pam had visited Ben in his hospital room, he had concealed nothing. He included all his prior dishonest behavior. He even retold the events leading up to the morning he had knocked on her door and totally misrepresented himself.
Pam was initially sickened by his disclosure, arms wrapped around herself, pacing at the end of his bed, silently nodding as every additional piece of the puzzle was laid bare. Nearly ever fiber in her wanted to bolt for the door and never, ever look back.
Maybe it was her own guilt that kept her from running. The guilt of her marriage to Stew. The guilt of her past. So when Ben was finished, Pam began. She confessed to him the sorry horrors of her past. Her addictions. Her sordid porn career. Her occasional moonlighting as a high-priced call girl, an embarrassing act she had never disclosed to a solitary soul. Especially, not Stew.
And when she was finished...
“We’re both gonna need a lot of therapy,” Ben had joked from his hospital bed.
Pam was instantly reminded of how she had always laughed with Ben. Unguarded. Safe. Easy. She visited him daily and she wondered if she was falling for him. Though not yet brave enough to use the “L” word.
So as Ben limped back and forth across the living room, phone fixed to his ear and selling his rare and unique expertise to another needy customer, Pam looked her new man over yet again.
With Ben sleeping over more nights than not, she hoped her bad luck may have finally turned into good luck. Her sin into salvation. And now, she at last had a baby she could call her own, not to mention the prospect of a man in her life the baby boy could one day call daddy.
For his part, Ben hadn’t yet found himself comfortable with the sleeping arrangements. It seemed too soon to be at ease, especially when it had been barely more than a month since Alex had told Ben she was moving on. With some hard-core counseling, Alex had imagined that the old Ben was worth the effort of resurrecting. But this new Ben? He was dangerous. More reflexive than reflective. And as much as Alex said she could appreciate Ben’s newly minted sense of emotional liberation since that awful rainy night, that wasn’t the Ben she had fallen in love with and married. Alex said she missed the forever-mourning Ben. The sweetly-moving-on Ben.
The Safe Ben.
Once the lifestyle changes began, Ben discovered, they became easier and easier to accept. He found it relatively simple to scale back his business clients to just a few that mattered. He gave up the office in Burbank with plans to work out of his new home, that for a time, was a furnished apartment in Northridge, complete with a pool, gym, and a crate full of other divorced or soon-to-be-divorced men. It was when he was thinking aloud about hiring a part-time college student as a research assistant that Pam asked to be considered for the job.
Things moved fast from there. Maybe too fast for Ben. He hadn’t a clue. He had never been there before. He did, however, take a pinch of solace in something Pam had uttered in the wee hours of their first night together. She had said that true affection had no set incubation period. Whether it happened fast or slow, real love was real love.
“I like the sound of that,” Ben had whispered. “But would you mind if I wait awhile and see?”
“Not at all,” was Pam’s sweet answer. She understood their situation wasn’t perfect. Nothing was perfect. But for now, maybe even forever, it was safe.
Acknowledgments
As solitary as most writing endeavors are, not a word gets published without enormous faith and support from a bevy of outstanding individuals. So it is with thanks and appreciation that I mention these very fine folks.
Marge Herring and Gary Cramer. You know what you’ve done for us. I am and will remain eternally grateful.
Valarie Phillips. It’s rare when people who aren’t your next of kin believe in you. You believed in me. Please don’t stop.
Alan Wertheimer. People laugh when I say my attorney is the most honest man I know. They can laugh all they want, because it’s true.
Candy Dooley and Carolyn Herbertson for their eyes and ears.
Doctors Noreen and Ivan Green. Your love and generosity are boundless. I’m grateful to have you in my life.
Special mentions to my good pals Lexi Alexander and Anthony Rodriguez for the only kind of advice that comes from friends who care.
Also extra cool “chick” props to Jeanne Bowerman and J.T. Ellison who, though late to party, have been key in the publishing of this book.
My two children, Henry and Kate. I love you. My world revolves around you. You both are my moon, stars, and inspiration.
And lastly, but certainly mostly, my wife and partner, Karen Richardson. Your love, effort, and attention to every detail are more than appreciated. They’re cherished. None of this happens without you.
Thanks to you all. dr
About the Author
Doug Richardson is the author of two previous novels—Dark Horse and True Believers. A well-known, respected screenwriter, his film credits include Die Hard 2: Die Harder, Bad Boys, Money Train, and Hostage. He lives in Southern California with his wife, two children and four mutts.
You can learn more about Doug at www.dougrichardson.com. You can contact him at bydougrich@dougrichardson.com. You can also follow him at www.facebook.com/bydougrichardson and on Twitter: @byDougRich.
Table of Contents
Cover
Table of Contents
Also By Doug Richardson
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author