Bayou Born

chapter 19

Branna gave three light raps on the closed door. She hadn’t intended to kick a man when he was down. Their exchange in the hall bothered her, and she needed to clear the air.

“Enter.”

“Am I disturbing you?”

“No, come on in. What’s up?” His mouth curled into a grin, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“You look like you could use a friend. I was only teasing a few minutes ago in the hall.”

When she sat in the chair next to his desk, a silver rattle with a pink bow tied around the handle caught her eye. That was the object she saw him with before. Was there a connection to the person on the phone and the rattle? Did James have a child? Maybe a niece or nephew?

A second of panic hit her. Surely, he didn’t have a wife. No, if he were married, the honorable Dr. James Newbern wouldn’t have been out with her, let alone done everything else they’d shared. He wouldn’t cheat on a woman. He wasn’t Steven.

“Really? A friend?”

“My first class is starting in ten minutes, but how about lunch when it’s over?” Maybe she could cheer him up. Maybe she’d regale him with funny stories about Fleur de Lis, which could make him smile and ward off the homesickness hanging in her heart.

Bang!

The glass doors to the office suite rattled as if someone shoved them open so hard the handles had hit the wall. The vibration reverberated through room. Immediately, James rose, and she followed him out of his office.

In the lobby, Sadie struggled with a huge vase, the size of an urn, filled with red and pink long stemmed roses in a mass with white Baby’s Breath. With one hand, Sadie tried to maneuver paperwork out of the way on the top of her desk. She clutched the vase close to her chest, trying to keep it balanced. James rushed to help. He grabbed the vase and lifted it out of the way. With a quick flourish, Sadie shoved everything on her desktop to one side.

“Miss Lind, aren’t the flowers beautiful. Did you two have a fight?”

Branna looked at James. “No. Why?”

“Then why wouldn’t you want these lovely flowers from your fiancé?”

Confusion flashed across James’ face. His eyebrows rose, silently asking the unspoken question.

Why did he always think the worst of her?

“I do not have a fiancé. I am not engaged. See—” She held up her ring-less left hand and wiggled her fingers as evidence of the truth. “No ring. I’m not engaged.”

Sadie’s doubtful frown focused on James then back at her. “Miss Lind, I don’t think I mixed up the details. Steven definitely said he was engaged to you.”

“Oh see. The optimal word in that sentence is was. As in, ‘not any more’ for seven-plus months. I will never marry that man.”

“Well, Steven told me—”

“Sadie, believe me when I tell you, you can’t believe what he says. I learned that the hard way.”

Sadie shrugged. Her brow creased in doubt.

Branna tried to hold on to calm. Would she ever escape the tentacles of Steven’s charm? Her immunity to him had finally reached maximum capacity. What he did or didn’t do, didn’t matter one wit to her.

With anger simmering below the surface, frustration overflowing, her eyes watered. She sniffed deeply, then doubled her resolve. Annoyed was the only reaction she’d allow to his interference. At some point, her continued rejection of him would penetrate his ego, right? Then he would pursue someone else. Someone not in her family. Hopefully, that would happen sooner than later.

“Enjoy the flowers, Sadie. I’m off to my first class. It’s going to be a great day.” Turning from the two doubting faces, she stepped toward her office for her tote bag. The door clicked locked when she pulled it closed. “James, my offer for lunch is still open. Let me know.”

Pushing open the glass office door, she crossed the threshold and strode down the hall. Her short-heeled sandals tip-tapped, tip-tapped as she strode purposefully down the hall. Meandering students cleared a path. She ignored the bashful glances and the occasional stares.

“If Steven thinks he can needle his way back into my life, he needs medication. The strong stuff,” she muttered as she trekked. “Who does he think he is?”

But she knew. Steven Sterling was everyone’s darling in Mississippi. He came from a family with old money and an antebellum home, plus all the bucks in the world to keep the place as a private residence. Unlike Fleur de Lis which, though still a private home, offered access to the public as a way to offset upkeep expenses. Strangers often roamed the property. They liked to escape from the tours. Once she found someone in the restroom upstairs, an area marked off-limits with a sign and velvet rope.

But not so at Steven’s family’s home. First rate antiques and accessories her family would never own. The Sterlings kept three housekeepers on staff. Not to mention the gardeners and a cook.

Steven’s parents and grandparents had spoiled him. He was too charming for his own good. He had a respected legal practice. As far as she knew, he conducted his business ethically. But that ego of his—as wide as the endless horizon of the Gulf of Mexico. Steven once bragged there were two types of attorneys. Ones who got ulcers from trying to do the right thing. The second kind, like him, were tigers with the killing instinct and went into law to stay out of jail.

Well, there was no law that prevented a man from sleeping with other women while engaged, however, his cheating certainly killed their engagement. She’d never ever trust him again. There were many reasons she’d remained silent about his misdeed, including her inability to withstand “poor Branna” sympathy everyone would heap on her. Better for everyone to think she broke the engagement because of cold feet. She didn’t want her family on the pity train—the truth of Steven and Camilla’s fling would energize the gossip loops for months.

However, she was done with hiding, trying to make nice, and trying to protect everyone else. Steven’s long-arm-of-the-law created a problem that required a head-on approach. Months of avoiding him, then moving several states away hadn’t guaranteed a private life. Still he insisted on inserting himself into her world. But why?

With Sadie’s affinity for gossip, she expected news about her and Steven would spread like sand in a windstorm across campus.

She also expected Sadie to judge, but James? His scornful look hurt. She couldn’t deny that, but she’d done nothing wrong. She wouldn’t defend herself when no crime had been committed. If James Newbern thought he would have another pigeonhole to stick her in, he was flat wrong. She absolutely was not the type to lie about relationships. She didn’t lie. Period.

Fully charged with determination, she reached the classroom and a cacophony of chatter. She flipped on the overhead florescent lights, marched to her desk, and dumped her tote. Grabbing a black marker, she scrawled her name in big letters on the white board along with the name of the course. She drew in a quick breath, then blew it out before turning to face her class.

Mingling students migrated to their seats. Chatter quieted. Her heartbeat thudded double time to the clicks from the second hand on clock hanging on the back wall.

“Welcome to Interpersonal Communications. I’m Miss Lind.” She scanned the room. Chairs were set up eight across and five deep, yet she only had twenty-five students. The front row was bare, though she spotted a few eager beavers in the second row, textbooks and notebooks open, with pens in hands ready to begin.

“Good morning. Welcome. Education is the best way for you to invest in yourselves. You pay to sit here, so you can sit where you want. If you want to get the most for your money, move down front and participate.” A handful of brave souls rose from their seats and parked themselves in the front row.

“I’m making a seating chart. For the next two weeks, please sit in that same seat. After that, you can test me. If I’ve got your names down cold, feel free to move about the cabin. Going across the front row, give me your name. Let’s start with you.”

“Me?” The young man in the AC/DC t-shirt looked behind him.

Branna nodded and tapped the end of her pen against the paper to urge him along.

“Chuck Lyons.”

“Thank you, Chuck. Next.”

She completed the seating chart, then handed out the syllabus. She kept the banter light as she moved into lecture mode. Noting items of importance from the textbook, she watched students take the hint. Her first lecture as a fulltime college instructor filled her with a new sense of confidence.

Before the class ended, she went to the board and wrote “pan” in large letters. “Class, we use words to communicate, but words can cause communication failures. By a show of hands, how many think this word means something you put butter on in the morning after you’ve toasted it?” She counted the three raised hands. “Okay, a few. Now, how many of you might do this to find gold in Alaska?” More hands shot up.

“Most of you. Now for your homework for Wednesday—” Groans rose from the class and harmonized. She hid her grin.

“The three that think ‘pan’ is for toasting, stand up and count off.”

Once the task was completed, the three students glanced at one another and shrugged.

“You three are group leaders.” She pointed to each one. “The rest of you count off 1-2-3. Then, get together in your respective groups. Communicate, so that all of you are clear about the different definitions of p-a-n. Then, come up with ten other words that have different meanings—using ‘pan’ as an example. And, read chapter one for tomorrow.”

Pride in a job well done brought a smile to her lips. Solid communication had to be the cornerstone of any relationship, including hers with her students. Giddy didn’t begin to describe the joy running through her.

As she gathered her things and followed the last student out of the room, she reached to turn off the lights. James waited in the hall. Arms crossed on his chest, he leaned back with one knee bent and his foot braced against the wall. His expression had changed from the one he’d had earlier, now he wore a humbled grin. A misbehaving lock of dark hair fell over his forehead. She stopped herself from touching it, him. He made her heart beat quicker.

“Miss Lind, I apologize for jumping to conclusions earlier. If the offer’s still open, I’ll meet you back at the office at noon for lunch.”

An apology? James couldn’t be more different from Steven. “Sure, I’ll see you at lunch.”

She could understand how James might be curious about her version of the facts differing from what Sadie offered. Lunch would provide an opportunity to work on her own interpersonal communication skills. Besides, she wanted to know about the phone call that morning that appeared to cause him so much pain. And why did he keep a silver rattle on his desk?