Читать книгу Yours Forever - Farrah Rochon - Страница 11

Chapter 3

Matt ended the call with the school board’s attorney with a promise to see the man in court if he could not come up with a better settlement for Mrs. Black’s case. He could tell by the stunned silence on the other end of the line that the man had not expected a small-town lawyer to take such a hard line. Matt had encountered such attitudes more times than he could count over the years.

He sat back in his chair and closed his eyes. As he listened to the faint gurgle of Heritage Park’s landmark wooden waterwheel churning a few yards outside his open window, one question continued to swirl around in his head.

Why?

Why had the woman he’d gone to bed dreaming about last night showed up in his office this morning looking like everything he could ever want...and everything he had been trying to avoid? This had to go down as the most ironic twist of fate in the history of all mankind.

He’d spent an unhealthy portion of last night coming up with various scenarios that would have him coincidentally showing up at Belle Maison. After a while, he’d decided that he didn’t have the time or patience for devising fake, coincidental meetings. The chemistry that had sparked between him and Tamryn yesterday made scheming unnecessary. He’d already made the decision to drive over to the B and B after work and extend another dinner invitation to its newest guest.

As of this morning, everything had changed.

Discovering that the beauty he’d rescued yesterday was the same woman who posed a significant threat to everything he held dear rewrote all the plans his overactive imagination had concocted. The moment he learned she was the same Tamryn West who had been digging into his family’s history, Matt knew any plans to pursue her were null and void.

Well, his brain knew it. He needed other parts of his body to get the memo.

Running a frustrated hand down his face, he checked the time on his computer just as his stomach let out a loud growl. Maybe if he’d fed it more than an energy drink this morning it wouldn’t be so angry with him.

Matt slipped his cell phone into his pocket and strode out of his office.

He rapped his knuckles on the door to the file room, where Carmen stood before an open cabinet drawer. “I’m heading to the bank and then over to Emile’s for a quick bite. You want anything?”

“Yes,” Carmen said, shutting the drawer with her hip and walking toward him. “I want to know what’s up with you and Professor West.”

Matt’s forehead creased in a frown as he followed her out of the file room. “There’s nothing up with me and Professor West.”

Carmen tossed the manila folder on the desk, then perched on the edge of it. “For a lawyer, you are a horrible liar, Matthew Gauthier.”

“I’m not lying. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t give me that.” She pointed toward his office. “There was more chemistry in there than in the science lab at Gauthier High School. What’s going on with you two? Did you know she would be here?”

“Hell no. Didn’t you see how shocked I was to see her standing in my office?”

She crossed her arms over her chest and continued to stare at him. Carmen Mitchell had only been two years ahead of him in high school, but she’d become his father’s secretary right after she graduated, which meant she had more than a dozen years’ seniority over Matt at the Gauthier Law Firm. It was something she never let him forget, despite the fact that he was technically her boss.

Matt blew out a tired breath. “Okay, so I met her last night,” he admitted. “But I didn’t know who she was at the time. I was out for a ride on my bike and found her stranded with a car that had a busted radiator. She’s staying at Belle Maison. I brought her there, then went back for her bags.”

“And you didn’t realize she was the same Tamryn West who’s been calling here every week for the past six months?”

“How was I supposed to know she was the same woman? I had no idea what she looked like.”

“Oh, come on, Matt. I knew who she was the second she walked through the door. Haven’t you heard of Google?”

“I never thought to look her up online.” And he was sorry he hadn’t. He would have been better prepared to handle the shock he’d had when she waltzed through his door this morning. He sure as hell hadn’t visualized that when he’d pictured the professor who had been making a pest of herself all these months.

He’d taken torts with a Professor West back in law school, and whenever Tamryn West’s email popped up in his inbox, that was who he pictured. The wrinkle-faced, bald-headed white guy was the exact opposite of the woman who’d left his office a couple of hours ago.

“She’s even more gorgeous in person,” Carmen mused. “Maybe you should ask her to dinner.”

“Be real, Carmen.”

“What? You’ve been through all the single women in this town already.”

“First of all, I have not been through all of the single women in Gauthier. And second...” Matt released a sigh. “I already asked her to dinner last night. She turned me down.”

Carmen barked out a laugh. He didn’t join in.

“It’s a good thing we didn’t go out last night,” he reasoned. “It would have made things even more awkward this morning.”

“She’s always very pleasant when she calls. I still don’t get why you’re so stubborn when it comes to talking to her.”

“I don’t like people snooping in my business.” Carmen silently mimicked his words. Matt rolled his eyes. “Do you want anything from Emile’s?” he asked again.

“Only if they have bread pudding for dessert. Oh, wait a sec.” She reached for a parcel of envelopes on her desk and thumbed through them, handing one to him. “Give this to Theresa at the bank. She’ll know what to do with it.”

Matt took the envelope and left Carmen with a promise to return in an hour. He walked along Main Street, Gauthier’s central attraction. Despite the slight breeze that ruffled the purplish-pink petals of the saucer magnolia trees lining the street, the humidity had him wishing he’d left his suit jacket back at his office.

Like his family’s law practice, many of the other businesses along Main Street had served this small community for well over a century. Matt strolled past Cannon’s Dry Cleaner’s and the Gauthier Pharmacy and Feed Store on his way to Gauthier Bank and Trust. The bank had long been taken over by a larger regional chain, but after an uproar over plans to change the logo and remove the ornamental clock that had hung over the bank’s entrance for more than 150 years, the corporate offices had agreed to make an exception. The checks and debit cards had the chain’s name and logo, but the sign and clock out front remained the same.

He entered the bank and spotted Theresa Rushing behind the counter. He and Theresa had graduated together from Gauthier High School.

“Hey there, Matt. How’s the campaign going?” Theresa greeted.

“It hasn’t officially kicked off yet, but my opponent is already slinging some heavy mud.”

“That’s a good sign. It means he’s taking you seriously, which he very well should. Patrick Carter has been in office too long already. He’ll probably run for dogcatcher after you whip his butt in this election.”

“That’s probably the only seat he hasn’t held,” Matt agreed with a laugh. He handed over the envelope. “Carmen said you’d know what to do with this. And I want to deposit this into the Katherine Gauthier fund,” he added, slipping Theresa the money he’d drawn from his private equity account. He used his dividend checks to fund the account he’d set up in his mother’s name to sponsor various charitable projects around Gauthier.

“No problem,” she said. She cast a sly smile in his direction. “By the way, a very nice-looking woman came in asking about you not too long ago. If I wasn’t happily married, I would be jealous that some newcomer is scoping out Gauthier’s most eligible bachelor.”

Matt’s stomach dropped. “Was she wearing a red top and black skirt?”

“Yeah,” Theresa confirmed.

Dammit.

“What did she want to know?”

“Just stuff.” She shrugged. “Whether or not you’ve lived in Gauthier your entire life. How long you’ve been practicing law in your grandfather’s old building. Stuff like that. So.” Theresa raised her brows. “Is she someone special?”

“Yeah, a special pain in my ass,” Matt muttered. “Any idea where she went?”

“I think she said she was heading to Claudette’s.”

“Aw, shit.” Anywhere but the beauty parlor. “I’ll come back later for the deposit receipt. Or better yet, have someone bring it over to Carmen at the office.”

“No problem,” she called.

Matt quickly made it out of the bank and across the street to Claudette’s Beauty Parlor. He opened the screen door and was nearly bowled over by all the estrogen. He usually avoided this place at all costs, mainly because he’d dated two of the beauticians who worked here.

Dread crept up his spine as he spotted Tamryn sitting in one of the twirling salon chairs, her lean legs crossed. His gut clenched at the sight. It had done the same thing this morning when she’d assumed a similar position across from his desk.

“Well, look who’s here,” Claudette Robinson called, waving a comb at him.

“Hi, ladies,” Matt greeted.

Joelle Richardson gave him a wave from where she stood at one of the shampooing basins along the back wall, washing someone’s hair. Mariska Thomas grunted at him and rolled her eyes.

Things had ended amicably with Joelle. With Mariska, not so much.

“We were just telling Tamryn here about you running for state senate,” Claudette said.

“They sure were.” An amused glint lit up her eyes. “They also told me about your work with the Boys and Girls Club, and the scholarship you award at the high school, and the work you do with the elderly. You really are a Boy Scout, aren’t you, Matthew?”

“Everybody loves Matt around here,” Claudette chimed in.

There was another grunt from the station where Mariska was slathering cream in a customer’s hair and folding pieces of foil over it.

“Don’t mind her,” Claudette said. In a loud whisper she pointed a finger between Matt and Mariska. “They used to date. Didn’t end well.”

“Oh.” Tamryn’s eyes widened in what looked like genuine curiosity. That expression alone told Matt that he needed to get her the hell away from these wagging tongues as quickly as possible.

“Professor West, you mind if I talk to you outside?” Matt asked.

“Professor?” Claudette’s brows met her dyed hairline. “You didn’t tell us you were a professor.”

“I am.” Tamryn unfolded those stunning legs and stood. “I teach African-American history and women’s studies at a small liberal-arts college in Boston.”

“Well, well, well. How very fancy,” Claudette said. “I hope you enjoy your time in Gauthier. Stop by and see us again.”

“I’m sure I will,” Tamryn said as she slipped out the door Matt held open.

“What was that?” Matt asked as soon as they were outside.

“What was what?”

“Why are you going all over town asking about me?”

She put up a finger. “Okay, first of all, I am not going all over town asking about you. I’ve only been to the bank, the pharmacy and here.”

“That’s about all there is to Gauthier.”

“And second—” her voice held a hint of irritation “—may I point out that I wouldn’t have to go around asking about you if you’d just agree to an interview? I promise it’ll be painless.”

A nerve jumped in Matt’s jaw. He was stuck between the proverbial rock and a hard place. He sure as hell didn’t want to answer any of her prying questions, but if she insisted on digging into his background, he wanted to stay on top of just what she uncovered. There were things about both him and his family that were better left buried, and Matt intended on keeping it that way.

If he agreed to let her interview him, he could give her just enough to satisfy her curiosity. Maybe then she would move on to something else.

“Fine,” Matt finally answered. “Why don’t I take you to lunch? I’ll answer anything you want to know.”

She gave him a cheeky smile. “See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Yeah, that was because the questions hadn’t started yet.

* * *

“I knew I should have started dieting the day I decided to spend my summer in Louisiana,” Tamryn said, using the crusty French bread to soak up some of the spicy shrimp étouffée. Her eyelids slid closed as she slipped the morsel between her lips, releasing a throaty moan.

Matt’s stomach clenched at the sound. So did the fingers he’d wrapped around his glass of iced tea, to the point where he figured he was in danger of shattering the glass. She’d been making those little noises throughout their meal. Sounds that, if he closed his eyes, he could imagine coming from something much more enjoyable than a simple lunch at Emile’s.

She expelled another satisfied sigh, then pushed the plate away. “No more. I can’t spare the extra calories.”

His eyes narrowed with his skeptical frown. “You’re joking, right?”

“Oh, how I wish.” She laughed, then hunched her shoulders in a hapless shrug. “What can I say? I love to eat. I’m counting this as my splurge meal for the week.”

Matt shook his head. The woman clearly worried about the wrong things.

From the moment he’d pulled his bike up to her smoking car yesterday, he hadn’t been able to get her shapely body out of his head. The sleeveless top and formfitting skirt she wore today weren’t helping.

Just picturing the way the slim black skirt conformed to her delicately curved hips and nicely rounded butt had his skin warming. She had the kind of legs you usually saw in lady-shaving-cream commercials, her calves toned and smooth. She stood about a half foot shorter than his own six feet three inches—just the right height. Their bodies would line up perfectly.

Whoa. That was an image he definitely didn’t need in his head right now. He was having a hard enough time getting his body under control, especially after sitting here for the past twenty minutes watching as Tamryn wrapped her plump lips around her fork and moaned in pleasure with each bite.

Matt couldn’t hold back his chagrin at the irony of it all. The woman he’d spent the past six months dodging every chance he could get was sitting across from him right now, eliciting the kind of wet dream–worthy fantasies he hadn’t experienced since high school.

Eyeing the plate, Tamryn said, “One more bite,” before picking up the fork and scooping up more étouffée. She shoved the plate away again and tossed her linen napkin over the remnants of her lunch. “Okay, I’m really done now.”

Matt lifted an amused brow. “You sure about that?”

“Yes. No more.” She picked up her pen and notepad. “So, you’ve worked in your family’s law practice since you finished law school?”

Matt squelched his disappointed sigh. He’d forgotten for a moment that, for her, this was a working lunch. If he used even an ounce of his common sense, he would accept that it should be the same for him. He’d already decided that any romantic interest in her was now off the table.

Although the longer he sat across from her, the harder it was to remember just why he could no longer pursue her.

“So?” she asked.

Matt straightened and blinked several times. “What?”

She sighed. “These questions are not that difficult, Mr. Gauthier.”

“It’s Matthew,” he said. “Or Matt. And forgive me for being difficult.”

“I didn’t say that you were being difficult. I said that these questions were not. But now that you mention it, you are being rather difficult.”

He grinned. “That’s what happens when you strong-arm someone into an interview they didn’t want to participate in.”

She choked out a shocked laugh. “Strong-arm? Look at you and look at me. There is no way I could strong-arm you into doing anything you didn’t want to do.”

He folded his arms on the table and leaned toward her. “You don’t need physical strength when you have that smile.”

Matt didn’t think it was possible for a person’s cheeks to turn such a deep shade of crimson so quickly. He had to suppress the instant, overwhelming urge to taste the demure smile that formed on her lips.

“Thank you,” she said, her cheeks still impossibly red, her face still impossibly gorgeous. She pointed to her notebook. “Can we get back to my list of questions?”

Suppressing his annoyance over her insistence on working, he made a circling motion with his hand. “Please proceed, Professor West.”

“It’s Tamryn,” she said. “And I asked if you’ve worked in your family’s law practice your entire career.”

“For the most part,” Matt answered, sitting back in his chair. “I clerked for the Fifth Circuit Court of Appeals in New Orleans for a few years while still in law school.”

“Your father is on that court, isn’t he?”

“Yes. I guess you have done your research.”

She waved him off with a flick of her wrist. “I was able to find out everything I needed to know about your father with a two-minute internet search. Leroy Gauthier has made some interesting rulings during his first few years as an appellate judge.”

“If by ‘interesting’ you mean controversial, then yes,” Matt answered.

“I was trying to be tactful.”

Matt laughed. “Tactful and Leroy Gauthier. I doubt those words have ever been used together in a sentence before.”

The corners of her mouth dipped with a curious frown, and Matt could practically see the wheels turning in her head with questions he wasn’t up for answering.

“Anything else?” he asked. “You want to know about my mom? She died of cancer ten years ago.”

“I read that, too,” she said. “Her obituary was in the online archives of the local paper. I’m sorry about her passing.”

Matt did his best to pull off an unaffected shrug. “She was more than ready to go. She’d suffered for years.”

The suffering his mother faced during her short bout with ovarian cancer was probably nothing compared to the misery she’d endured at the hands of her neglectful, adulterous husband. But that was something he certainly wasn’t about to share with Tamryn West.

“I’m not really sure why you requested this meeting. It seems as if Google has told you everything you need to know.”

“I want to know the things that Google can’t tell me,” Tamryn said.

Matt fingered a petal on one of the daisies in the slim vase in the center of the table. “And what is that, exactly?”

“Well, for instance, Google can’t tell me what it was like being a member of the founding family of Gauthier. The town is named after you, for goodness’ sake. Don’t pretend it’s not a big deal.”

“The town is named after my great-great-uncle Micah Gauthier, not me. And I already told you that I’m not all that knowledgeable about my family’s history.” Matt shrugged. “I just don’t have much interest in it.”

Tamryn flattened her open palm to her chest. “Do you know how much that breaks my heart?”

“Sorry to be such a disappointment.” Matt knew his grin contradicted his words.

“Once I’m done with my research I will probably know more about your family than you do,” she said.

Her prediction caused an arrow of alarm to shoot down Matt’s spine, because that was exactly what he most feared. There were things about his family that he didn’t want anyone to know. He’d come from a long line of bootleggers, gamblers and worse. The town’s founding family wouldn’t be so revered if Gauthier’s residents knew of his predecessors’ past misdeeds.

If they knew of his misdeeds.

Matt leaned forward again and in a lowered voice said, “You know, there are better ways for you to spend your summer than researching my family.”

The sexy smile that drew across her face had him thinking for a moment that he’d distracted her from her quest, until she said in an equally hushed voice, “I beg to differ. Your family is fascinating. You just don’t understand because you haven’t taken the time to delve into their history.”

Matt sat back and released a defeated sigh. She might look like sex in high heels, but her prying was still a giant pain in his ass.

He held his palms up in a you-win gesture.

“I don’t know much about the Gauthier family’s history, but I know the basics,” he said. “Uncle Micah, who was part white, by the way, apparently won a bunch of land in a card game. I guess he was pretty self-important, because he decided there should be a town named after him. Thus, the town of Gauthier was born.”

“From what I’ve read, Micah Gauthier was very generous. Calling him self-important doesn’t seem fair.”

Matt shrugged. “Never met him, so I can’t be sure.”

“You are absolutely no help at all.”

“I told you I wouldn’t be.” He chuckled as he squeezed lemon juice into the iced tea the waiter had just refilled. He set the long teaspoon on the linen tablecloth and returned his attention to Tamryn. “Look, the history of this town is pretty much like the other towns in this area. I’ll bet if folks look hard enough, they’ll find other rooms like the one that was found in the law practice.”

“Oh, I have no doubt,” Tamryn said. “There are likely hundreds of secret hideaways that were used as part of the Underground Railroad that haven’t been discovered throughout the South. It’s always exciting when one is, which is why being here in Gauthier—”

The waiter returned to their table. “I’m sorry to interrupt again, but will you be enjoying dessert this afternoon? We have white-chocolate bread pudding and buttermilk pie.”

“That sounds so good,” Tamryn said. “But I can’t.”

“Oh, come on,” Matt urged. “Dessert isn’t just for special occasions around here. It’s a part of every meal.”

“Even breakfast?” she asked with a teasing smile.

“Damn right. Just wait until you have some beignets and café au lait.”

She groaned. “If I’m not careful I will have to buy an entirely new, bigger wardrobe before the start of fall semester.”

“You have nothing to worry about,” Matt said. He looked up at the waiter. “Paul, can you box up a serving of bread pudding for me to take back to Carmen?”

“No problem, Matt. Oh, and I’m going to email you some artwork for the 5K T-shirts later tonight.”

“Good. I need to get that to Mike’s Printing over in Maplesville. He said the sooner we have the artwork, the sooner he can start making the T-shirts and yard signs.”

When Paul left the table, Matt turned his attention back to Tamryn. “Sorry about that.”

“A 5K?” she asked.

Matt nodded, taking another sip of tea. “I—well, the Gauthier Law Firm—sponsors a yearly 5K to benefit the Gauthier Boys and Girls Summer Camp. It’s turned into a pretty big event, much bigger than we ever expected it to become.”

“Who’s ‘we’?”

“Carmen and I. She’s the one who puts it together.”

“But you foot the bill?”

He shrugged. “It’s not much.”

Tamryn folded her arms on the table and, with her head cocked to the side, studied him. He wasn’t a fan of scrutiny, even when it involved a beautiful woman.

“What?” Matt asked.

“It wasn’t just the talk of obviously smitten women at the beauty parlor. You really are a saint.”