Broken Wings (31 page)

He looked over at her. “Where in the hell did you get that kind of money?”

“Daniel,” she replied. “It seems the bartender that punched you is really a rich man’s son, after all. Daniel signed over his trust fund to me. He wanted me to have the money so I could be free of you.”

Bob watched her for a second and then turned his eyes back to the road. The tension in his body eased a little. “But your kid still needs a father,” he reminded her. “You’re not married and you’re facing a tough pregnancy. You need me.”

“Do I?” She hesitated as she took in his profile. “I don’t know, Bob. Is having a father who pushes everyone around and starts fights with total strangers, more important than having no father at all?”

“Every kid needs a mother and father,” he said, sounding like the last word on the subject.

Pamela played with the engagement ring on her finger. “No, Bob. Every kid needs love. Every wife needs love. And no one should marry for convenience or as a business arrangement.”

“Pamela, don’t do this, not now.” He slapped his hand angrily against the steering wheel. “It’s been a crappy night and I’m in no mood for your hormonal outbursts.”

She stared at the road ahead of them. “Tell me something. Did you ever love me, Bob, or was I just a great catch?”

“Listen to yourself. You sound like some love-struck schoolgirl fishing for a compliment. This isn’t you. You have more class than this.”

“Pull over, Bob,” she demanded.

Bob glared at her. “What is it? Are you going to be sick? Don’t get sick in the car. I just had it detailed,” he pleaded.

Bob pulled the car over to the side of St. Charles Avenue.

Pamela opened the car door and stepped onto the pavement. She took in a few quick deep breaths. Once she had calmed herself, she leaned over and looked back at Bob in the car.

“What’s the problem?” he shrugged. “If you’re not going to be sick then get back in the car, Pamela.”

“You want to know what the problem is, Bob? You really don’t know who I am, and you have no intention of ever trying to get to know me. The sad part is, I don’t think you really know who you are either.” She pulled the ring off her finger and tossed it on to the passenger seat.

Bob grabbed the ring. “What’s this? Are you kidding me? You’re just going to call the whole thing off, here, in the middle of St. Charles Avenue? You’re not being rational. Get back in this car, right now!”

“Good bye, Bob,” Pamela proclaimed and slammed the car door.

She quickly hurried over to the neutral ground in the middle of St. Charles Avenue to a waiting streetcar. She boarded the streetcar and watched as Bob’s silver Mercedes sped away from the curb and down the street. She took a seat on one of the old wooden benches near a window and sighed with relief. As the streetcar headed down St. Charles Avenue to the French Quarter, Pamela could not help but smile. It was as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She took in the bright full moon above and smelled the hint of magnolia in the air. She eased her body back against the bench and let the rocking motion of the long green car soothe her cares away.

Pamela walked through the open green wooden door and down the dark entrance leading to Daniel’s French Quarter carriage house. As she stepped into the moonlit courtyard, she heard the sound of water trickling down the three-tiered brick fountain. All around her shadows from the azalea bushes danced eerily along the high garden walls.

“I wondered how long it would be before you showed up,” a woman’s voice said off to Pamela’s left.

She turned to see T.J. Powell kneeling over a flowerpot in a pair of dirty blue jean overalls.

“Hello, Ms. Powell,” Pamela said, nodding to Daniel’s landlady. “What are you doing out here so late at night?”

“It’s T.J., sweetheart. No one calls me anythin’ but T.J. around here.” The woman stood up from her flowerpot and wiped her hands on her dirty overalls. “I sometimes come out here at night and work in my garden when I can’t sleep.” She grinned at Pamela. “What’s your excuse?”

“I came to see Daniel,” she admitted.

“I told him you had come a callin’. Said you had been inquirin’ about where he had disappeared to.” She paused as she noted the apprehension in Pamela’s eyes. “He’s home,” she assured her. “He came back about an hour ago from some fancy party. Looked mad enough to spit nails. He barely said hello to me before he went inside his cottage and slammed the door.”

“I think that may be my fault. There are things he needs to know. Things I haven’t been able to…” she let her voice fade away.

“Then you best go and talk to him. Make him listen to you. That’s a good man in there,” T.J. said as she nodded toward Daniel’s place. “In my experience, good men are like peanut butter. They stick to you no matter what.” T.J. turned away and headed back into the main house.

Pamela went over to the carriage house, took a deep breath, and gently wrapped on the front door.

She counted down the seconds as she stood waiting for him to appear, but Daniel never arrived. She knocked again and again, but still there was no answer. Images of Daniel hiding away in his bedroom, wanting to avoid her, began to take hold in her mind.

She quickly turned away from the door, deciding that perhaps coming here had been a mistake after all. She was just about to walk away when she heard the click of the doorknob behind her.

“Pamela?”

She turned around to see Daniel, covered with only a towel and standing dripping wet at his front door.

“I thought at first you weren’t home.” She directed her gaze to the garden walls not wanting to see his dark eyes staring into hers. “And then I figured perhaps you were home and just didn’t want to see me.”

Unexpectedly, he reached out and pulled her inside the house. Once she was safely behind the front door, he shut it and secured the deadbolt.

He turned and looked her over for a moment. “I was in the shower and heard someone at the door, but I wasn’t expecting it to be you.” Daniel wiped his wet hair back from his face.

Her heart fell to the floor. “You’re expecting someone else. I’m sorry. I should go,” she mumbled as she turned to leave.

He grabbed her arm, stopping her. “No, that didn’t come out the right way.” He paused and let go of her arm. “I meant I was expecting it to be T.J., not you, standing at my door in the middle of the night. How did you get here?”

“Streetcar. I made Bob pull over on the way home from the party and I took a streetcar to Canal Street. I walked from there.”

He scowled angrily at her. “You shouldn’t have been walking around the French Quarter alone at night, Pamela. It’s not safe.”

She smiled at his concern. “I wasn’t alone. I followed one of those ghost tours to your gate.” She threw her purse on the couch.

He sighed. “So what happened? Did you and Bob have a fight?”

She nodded. “I’m sorry he went after you like that at the party.”

“I’m sure you didn’t come here in the middle of the night to apologize for Bob.” He glanced down at the towel wrapped around his waist. “Look, why don’t you let me get some clothes on and then I can take you home.”

She took in his muscular chest and her body ached with desire. Suddenly regretting her visit, she turned away from him. “I shouldn’t have come here,” she stated, grabbing for her purse.

“No! You’re not going anywhere alone in the middle of the night.” He took her hand and stepped over to the couch. “Sit here while I get dressed.”

With the touch of his hand, Pamela’s resolve faded away. She put her purse down and made herself comfortable on his beige couch.

Daniel gave her one last going over with his eyes. “You all right?” he asked, thoroughly analyzing her features. “You’re really pale.”

“Go get dressed, Daniel,” she ordered in a weary voice as she waved him away. “I’m fine.”

Daniel trotted up the stairs. She smiled as she observed the taught muscles in his back flex as he made it to the top of the open stairway and turned to go into his room. She noticed he left the bedroom door open.

“Feel free to get something to drink,” he called out from the bedroom.

Pamela got up from the couch and went into his efficiency kitchen to investigate his refrigerator. As she made her way around the kitchen she smiled to herself. She wondered how a tall man like Daniel was managing in such a cramped kitchen. She opened the refrigerator door and spotted only a carton of orange juice, eggs, a loaf of bread, and a bottle of white wine. She pulled out the orange juice and started searching the cabinets for a glass. The only ones she could find were on a high top shelf above the sink. She tried to stand on her toes and grab for a glass. Just as she was about to give up, she saw a man’s hand reaching up from behind her and remo
ve a glass from the top shelf.

Pamela turned around to see Daniel leaning over her. His face was inches from hers and she could smell his spicy cologne on his skin. His wet hair was neatly combed back and he was wearing a long-sleeved white shirt and a black pair of slacks. His shirt was not yet buttoned up and she caught sight of his muscular chest beneath the white fabric.

She swallowed hard and tried to remind herself to be business-like. “Thank you,” she said as she took the glass from his hand.

Daniel smiled at her. “You’re welcome.” He placed his hands on the sink behind her, pinning her between his arms. “So tell me, why are you here?” he whispered.

“I came…” She turned her face away from his, trying to collect her thoughts without having to look into his disconcerting eyes. “I came to talk to you about something,” she finally got out.

“Something? That doesn’t sound very good.” He leaned back from her and folded his arms over his chest. “And should I be expecting your fiancé to come flying through the door anytime soon?”

“I don’t think Bob and I are going to work out. Conflict of interest, you could say.”

Daniel frowned. “Conflict of interest?”

She placed the glass on the counter next to her. “My interests conflicted with his,” she added coyly. “And ever since you showed up at my house the other day I haven’t
—
”

“You haven’t been able to stop thinking of me, eh?” he interrupted, grinning.

She pushed him away. “You’re impossible.” She eased herself around him in the tiny kitchen and then headed for the front door.

“Admit it, Pamela,” he challenged as he followed her out of the kitchen. “You can’t stop thinking about me just like I can’t stop thinking about you. Tell me you want to be with me and then that’s it. We will see where this goes.”

She stopped by the couch in the living room and turned around to face him. “See where this goes? I need more than that, Daniel. I can’t just see where it goes. I can’t be so cavalier in my affections,” she angrily replied.

“I’m not being cavalier. I want to be with you. I want to spend every free moment I have with you, but I need to know you want to be with me.”

She shook her head. “You’re talking about dating, and I’m talking about a relationship.”

“What difference does it make as long as we’re together?!” he countered, raising his voice.

“It matters to me!” she shouted. “I need to know you will be there no matter what.”

He sighed and ran his hand through his wet hair. “You’re talking about if you get sick.” He threw his hand up. “Of course I will be there. I want to be there for you.”

“That’s not it.” She picked up her purse from the couch. “You’re not ready for this kind of commitment,” she said over her shoulder as she moved toward the front door.

Daniel came up behind her and placed his hand against the door, halting her retreat. “Pamela, talk to me,” he urged over her shoulder.

Pamela stood before the door and closed her eyes for a moment. She wanted to tell him, but reason told her not to say a word. Her heart, however, was arguing for a different approach. She took a deep breath and then turned to him.

“What I need from you, Daniel, is a promise that no matter what happens to me, you will take care of any unfinished business I might leave behind.”

His eyes began frantically searching hers. “What’s going on? You said you have been sick. How sick are you, Pamela? You’re talking as if you are dying.”

“I’m not dying, just…”

“Just what?” he demanded in a rushed tone.

Pamela took his hand in hers. “There is a reason I went to Bob, even after you sent me the money. It’s the same reason that I’m here now. I wanted to give you the option to decide if you want us.” She placed his hand against her abdomen. She looked up into his face and watched as his dark eyes filled with understanding. “I’m almost three months along and the doctors say
—
”

She never got to finish her words. Daniel pulled her into his arms and covered her mouth with his.

“Why didn’t you just tell me other day?” he whispered against her cheek.

She sighed with relief. “I wasn’t sure what you would say and I didn’t think you would want to have anything to do with us.”

“Are you kidding me!” he shouted, with a huge grin on his face. “This is the best news in the world.” He paused and leaned back from her. His grin fell away and his mood darkened. ”What did your doctor say?” he asked, apprehensively.