In spite of the cold wind blasting her through the partly open window, perspiration beaded on her forehead. She couldn’t move the car without hurting him, and he had only to shove her car with all his strength and she’d be lying in the little ravine at the edge of the highway. As her mind raced for a solution, a car pulled up behind hers, but from her rearview mirror, she knew at once that it wasn’t Luther’s car. Her breathing accelerated, and the man at her car window turned to see who had parked behind her.
She noticed that his hands began to shake, turned around and saw a uniformed patrolman get out of the unmarked car and said a word of thanks.
“What’s going on here?” the patrolman asked. She jumped out of the car and handed the officer her license and registration.
“I was in the middle lane going fifty, officer, and he passed me on my left and knocked me all the way to where my car is. I spun around several times, till I thought I couldn’t get control of my car.”
The officer walked around the car, looked at the tires and the scratches on the left side of the car. He stopped in front of the other driver. “You had to be going pretty fast to do this. Both of her right tires are split. Let’s see your papers.”
“I…. uh…she hit me, Officer.”
“Your papers, buddy.”
“They, uh…they’re in my car.”
“I’ll walk with you.”
Luther drove up as the two men walked off, and she didn’t think she’d ever been so happy to see anyone.
“Are you all right?” Luther asked her.
“I’m fine,” she said, although she wasn’t. He showed no warmth, neither in his voice nor his demeanor. After walking around the car, he took out his cell phone and called a tow truck. “You can’t drive this till you replace these tires and check the wheel alignment. I’ll bet that joker doesn’t have a dollar’s worth of insurance.”
The patrolman returned with the man, wrote out a report, handed each a copy and told her, “He doesn’t have any personal insurance, but you may be able to recover your costs from his employer, who owns the car. Here’s the information. I wouldn’t drive your car till it’s checked.”
“Thank you, Officer,” she said.
“If you have anything in this car that you don’t want to lose, let’s put it in my car,” Luther said. They emptied her glove compartment and the trunk and put all of it in Luther’s car. “Go sit in my car. It’s too cold to stand out here,” he said.
The tow truck arrived minutes later. Luther gave the driver instructions, got a receipt and handed it to Ruby when he got into the car. “You ought to have your car back in a couple of days. If you need help, give me a ring.”
“Thanks. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
He didn’t look her way as he started the car and eased into the traffic. “You don’t say.”
Ruby felt his words like a punch to the stomach.
It didn’t seem right to be at odds with Luther, the one person who had always been there for her. If only she could think of something to do or say that would get them back to the warm camaraderie she’d had with him nearly all of her life. If only she hadn’t made love with him. No, she couldn’t be sorry for that. He was the man who’d given her her birthright. But she didn’t want it to end there. She was smart enough to know that there was more, and she wanted it. Yet, Luther was serving notice that she wouldn’t get it with him.
Well, she told herself, glancing at his steely face, we’ll see about that.
Chapter 3
Luther could feel the heat emanating from Ruby and knew she sensed the desire that seemed capable of running away with him. “Don’t lose that receipt, now,” he cautioned again, mainly because the silence was almost more than he could tolerate. Unfriendly, abnormal relations with Ruby chilled him like an icy grip on his heart, and he shuddered to banish the feeling. He stopped in front of the big Tudor house, a symbol of the Lockharts’ better days.
“I’ll take this stuff inside for you,” he said, but he meant to get out of her house quickly. Being alone with her would invite memories of her sweet surrender and reduce him to begging for her love. He was damned if he’d crawl no matter how much he needed her.
“Thanks,” she said. “Would you please put it over there near the stairs to the basement?”
He did as she asked and noted that she stood between him and the front door. He didn’t know if she’d positioned herself there on purpose, but it didn’t matter; on his way out, he gave her wide berth.
“Thanks for helping me, Luther,” she said, and he thought he detected a plaintiveness in her voice.
“It wasn’t much,” he said as he reached for the doorknob. “You know you’re welcome.”
For the first time in his life, Luther fled from Ruby. In his preoccupation with her, he’d almost forgotten the woman who was coming to his house for an interview.
Now that he was sole owner of the dealerships and would make all decisions without his father’s help, he’d probably be at it eighteen hours a day, so he needed a housekeeper or someone who’d take care of his house, do the marketing and at least cook his dinner. He had to get home in a hurry. He had interviewed one on the telephone earlier that day but she lacked good references. The woman coming to his house tonight seemed to have just the right credentials, but he needed to see her and talk with her.
He opened the door to a middle-aged woman who wore a gray felt hat and a gray coat. No points in her favor; he hated seeing dark-skinned women in grays, browns and blacks. She smiled as if she’d known him all of her life, and he couldn’t help responding to her.
“Thank you for coming, Mrs. Yates.”
“Glad to be here. Just call me Maggie, Mr. Biggens. Nothing fancy ’bout me.”
He walked with her into his living room and asked her to sit down. “I’d like to see your references,” he said, accepted them, glanced briefly at them and put the paper on the coffee table. “I want a woman who will look after my home as if it were her own, and that means cleaning, marketing and cooking. I send my shirts to the laundry.”
“With just one person to look after in this house,” she said, gazing around, “you better let me iron your shirts. I can do ’em as well as any laundry.”
“All right. We’ll try it. Punctuality is important to me. Unless there’s a blizzard or a hurricane, I’d expect you to be here on time. You’d have Thursday afternoons and Sundays off. You get five-fifty a week, plus transportation and your meals. I pay all of your Social Security and if you want to wear a uniform, I’ll buy them. If you don’t, fine with me. If we hit it off, you’ll get a raise.” He looked at her for a reaction.
“Sounds fine, Mr. Biggens. If you don’t mind, I’d like to ask you a few questions.”
His left eyebrow shot up. “Why, of course.”
“How do you get along with your mother?”
He gaped at her. “My mother? Never thought about it. She’s my mother; I love her, and I’d do anything on earth for her.”
“Do you look after her and go to see her?”
Where was this headed? “I see my parents at least once a week. They don’t need anything, but if they did, I would provide it without being asked. I honor my parents. I’m the oldest child, and I don’t take that responsibility lightly.”
“In my life, I’ve found that a man who honors his mother, honors all women. I think you’re a good man, and I hope you’ll decide that I can come to work for you.” She thought for a minute. “Just please don’t ask me to cook no chitterlings, Mr. Biggens. I can smell ’em a block away. Awful!” She made a face.
He squelched a laugh. “Let that be the last thing you worry about. I’ll check these references, and if you’re home around five tomorrow, you’ll hear from me.”
“If that’s all that’s standing between me and the job, I’ll be seeing you. The folks I work for always love me, and you will, too.”
Somehow, he didn’t doubt it. Common sense told him to check the references,
but unless she got a really bad report, he’d hire her. He’d liked her on sight, and that didn’t happen too often.
As predicted, her references were impeccable. At five o’clock, he telephoned her. “How soon can you start?”
The next morning, he told Maggie what he liked and didn’t like to eat, gave her a key, a housekeeping budget, told her what kind of accounting he wanted and went to work. No more breaking the speed limit to get to the deli or the supermarket before it closed. In his first act as owner of his own dealerships, he made plans to partition the showroom and to build an attractive and comfortable room in which to discuss the cars, show videos of them and offer the customers complete comfort while they made up their minds.
“I’m not going to think about her, and I am not going to need her,” he said as he measured the space in the display room for the furnishings he would need. “I wish to hell I’d never touched her. She’s fire in my blood, and—Oh, hell!” Knowing it was a losing battle, he pitched the yardstick across the room.
Ruby hadn’t planned to go to the office that morning. She had appointments with the owner of a small knitting company and, later, with the manager of a florist shop. She’d spent the previous evening brushing up on the wholesale florist business, especially on the amount of waste a florist could absorb and still make a reasonable profit. She answered her ringing cell phone as she got into her car.
“Marva’s sick, and it’s serious.” The receptionist at work didn’t waste time with small talk. “You’d better come in. Several items on her desk require urgent attention.”
She cancelled her appointments, then headed to the office with the feeling that her life was about to change. And indeed it was: Marva Wright, the CEO, was hospitalized with a stroke.
For the first time in her memory, she worked all morning without coffee or a Danish. A stack of problems faced her, problems with which she had no experience, and each time she reached for the phone to call Luther and share her joy about the solution she implemented, she nearly wept. She knew she could do the job, but being unable to share her ideas with Luther, to boast about the smart things she did and to laugh with him about the silly things she contemplated doing hurt badly. The misery of it lodged in the pit of her stomach like a painful sore.
She answered the phone and heard Paige’s voice. “Say, girl, how about being one of my bridesmaids?”
“What? Girl, you get outta here! When? I want details.” Paige had been dating Lyman Epse for a while, but she’d never let on that she and the Detroit Chargers forward were that serious.
Paige chuckled. “Last night. I’m looking at this great big diamond on my finger right this minute.”
“You go, girl. Sure I’ll be a bridesmaid.”
“You don’t have much time. Lyman gave me all the money I need to pull the wedding off. He’s on the road so much, he’s left it all up to me. He’s going to Europe in February to play on some kind of a goodwill tour, so he wants us to get married before he leaves, and he’ll take me with him. Can you be at Jane’s Bridal Salon in Dearborn at five-thirty this evening?”
“Sure thing.” Ruby hung up and slumped in her chair, feeling as if all the air had been sucked out of her. Paige was her favorite cousin, and Ruby was happy for her. But she couldn’t suppress the feeling that it would never happen to her, that she would grow old without Luther. Oh, he’d come whenever she called, but that would be the end of it. It wasn’t enough.
She pulled herself up and resumed the task of stepping in as CEO of Everyday Opportunities, Inc.
“Your sister Opal is on line one, Ms. Lockhart,” came a voice through the intercom.
She wasn’t used to having a secretary answer her phone. She picked it up. “Hi.”
“I won’t keep you,” Opal said. “I was wondering if you knew Luther bought out his family and is now sole owner of Biggens Ford Family Cars.”
“What? When did that happen?” I need one more shock today. Just one more.
“In the last few days, I guess. D’marcus was talking to him, and you know Luther. He never makes a big deal out of anything. He told D’marcus that he couldn’t meet him for lunch because he’d just undertaken a big job and had to do a lot of the work himself. Turned out he’s renovating his showrooms. My husband had to squeeze it out of him that he’s now the sole owner. I knew you’d want to know, so you could call and congratulate him.”
“I will, as soon as I can. Marva had a stroke this morning, and I’m acting as CEO, plus doing my own work. All I want to do right now is keel over in bed and sleep.” Ruby wasted no time; she said goodbye to her sister.
With her left hand holding the receiver in the air and her right hand poised above the cradle ready to dial, she wondered whether Luther would welcome her call. She didn’t handle slights well at best, and since she wasn’t accustomed to getting them from Luther, maybe she shouldn’t call him. She hung up and the phone rang.
“Remember me—Trevor Johns?” the voice said. “I was wondering if you got over being mad at me and whether we can see the town tonight.”
When she could close her mouth, she said, “Of course I remember you, Trevor. I was never mad at you, but I do remember well why I decided that you and I mix like oil and water. Let’s forget about dating.”
“Well ’scuse me, babe. I don’t need no chick with her ass on her shoulder.”
“Really?” she said. “I’m sure you’ll find what you need if you head straight for a dark alley in the nearest slum district. Bye.” She hung up, and in her mind’s eye she saw his frustration at her comment; Trevor Johns liked to dominate a woman, and he liked to have his way. If he were only like Luther, gentle, sweet and…
Without thinking about it, she dialed Luther’s cell phone number. “Hi, Luther. This is Ruby.”
After a few seconds, during which time she knew he was dealing with the surprise, he said, “Hi.”
“Opal told me you’re now sole owner of Biggens Ford Family Cars. I called to congratulate you.”
“Thanks.” The silence that followed was tantamount to his splashing ice water on her.
She tried again. “Why don’t you come over this evening, and I’ll fix you dinner and we’ll celebrate. It’s an important milestone in your life.” She hadn’t meant to say any such thing, but…well, so be it.
“That’s nice of you, Ruby, but I just hired a housekeeper, and she’ll have dinner ready for me when I get home.”
What the heck! He didn’t offer an alternative and she didn’t want another slap in the face. She struggled to control the quivering of her lips. Maybe she just didn’t understand men. “I’m sorry, Luther. Congratulations on owning the dealership.”
“Thanks. I…uh…I’ll call you as soon as I get things straightened out here. Goodbye.”
Ruby hung up. He was kind even when he was being mean. She knew he didn’t plan to call her. She had to do something to take her mind off him. That was hard enough when she was at work, but in the evenings alone at home, it was all but impossible. She couldn’t call her sisters and chat on the phone; they were newly married and would want to spend the time with their husbands.
For several months, she had considered volunteering one evening a week at the community center in Morningside. She didn’t doubt that every shopkeeper in the area needed advice, so she made an appointment to give a talk there the following evening on the management of a small business with limited cash flow.
“I’ll have fliers out all over the neighborhood within the next hour,” the excited social worker told her. “And maybe I’ll see if a radio station that supports us will make a few announcements. This is the first good program I’ve had here in ages.”
“Glad to do it,” Ruby said.
Especially if it took her mind off Luther Biggens.
“All you shopkeepers and small business tycoons out there in Morningside or anywhere else in Greater Detroit, listen up,” the radio announcer said. “Ms. Ruby Lockhart, acting CEO of Everyday Opportunities, Inc., will
lecture tonight on managing the ups and avoiding the downs of operating a small business. Be at the Morningside Community Center at six sharp this evening. It’s free, and you’ll get coffee and doughnuts with the advice.”
“Well, what do you know about that?” Luther said to himself as he headed to his office. “I’m not sure she’d consider my dealership a small business, but I’ll bet I can learn something.” The disc jockey read the ad two more times before Luther got to work. “Yep,” he said aloud, as he entered his showroom, “I’ll just do that.” He didn’t bother examining his real reason for attending the lecture.
He phoned Maggie. “Will it upset you if I don’t get home till eight-thirty tonight? I’ll drive you home or call a taxi for you. I want to attend a meeting that should be over by eight.”
“Mr. B, you’re the boss. If you want to eat your dinner at ten, all you have to do is tell me, and I’ll take a late-afternoon nap so I won’t mind being up late. No problem. ’Course, I don’t suppose you’d stop somewhere and bring home a quart of pistachio ice cream, would you? I picked up the wrong kind, and I’m not happy if I don’t have my ice cream.”
“What kind did you get?”
“Butter pecan, and it don’t look a thing like pistachio.”
“Butter pecan’s my favorite. I’ll bring the pistachio. See you this evening.”
He couldn’t remember a day that moved along so slowly. Every ten minutes he looked at his watch thinking that another hour had passed. It seemed an eternity till he left for Morningside.
At three minutes to six, Luther parked a few doors from the center, found the conference room and sat on the last row a few feet from the door. He wouldn’t mind if she didn’t see him, and if the room was crowded, maybe she wouldn’t.
He listened intently for the hour and a half to one of the most professionally delivered lectures he’d heard in a while. Pride suffused him as she talked, answered questions and broke down complicated concepts and problems into easily understandable terms.
Forbidden Temptation Page 5
