When Justice is Served

By Jeanette Cooper

Young sixteen-year-old Mattie Wilson, seduced by her employer, gave birth to twins, one a boy, the other a girl. She left the infant girl, Nicole, on a woman’s doorstep. It was adopted by the woman and her husband.

Young, gorgeous Nicole Duval has the world by the tail and an ambition so strong nothing can hamper her dreams—or so she thinks—until disaster strikes. The victim of a brutal, life-changing sexual assault, with her attacker still on the loose, Nicole’s desperate need for justice drives her to taking a position as Assistant District Attorney.

Nicole renews an old friendship with Judge Douglas Keegan, whom she knew from the past. They go through some severe trials in attempts to have sex, while she struggles to overcome the psychological aftermath that causes flashbacks of her rape during intercourse with Douglas. She becomes pregnant, but their relationship dangles on dangerously shaky grounds.

Later, the birth of their son creates traumas almost too complicated to face. With a relationship, shaky at best, they eventually marry, moving into the mansion of Douglas’s late father, unbeknown to Nicole, the place of her inception.

With her and Douglas’s relationship struggling to survive, something happens in the courtroom that sends Nicole in a state of panic. She must give in to her fears and lose a battle for normalcy, or fight her demons.

When Douglas discovers shocking information from a batch of old documents belonging to his late father, it adds brimstone to the hell they’ve already suffered. Their world crumbles. They prepare themselves for the horrible truth about their birth parents...

A riveting love story with spellbinding suspense that unfolds into a long lasting love.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jeanette Cooper
• Release date: Jan 8, 2011
• ISBN: 9781458066039

Jeanette Cooper

Jeanette Cooper, a native Georgian, a former elementary school teacher, graduate of University of Central Florida with a Bachelor’s Degree in Elementary Education and a Master’s in Reading instruction, is mother of a son, grandmother of a grandson, and lives in North Florida near the Suwannee River.Jeanette enjoys walking, reading, cooking, and gardening, but her greatest pleasure comes from writing and watching characters come alive as they interact with one another in adventurous life-like dramas that motivate reading pleasure.Her latest romantic suspense novels are Passionate Promise, Vulnerable to Deceptive Love, Stripped of Dignity and The Wrong Victim..

Book preview

PROLOGUE

Florida, 1950

Sixteen-year-old Mattie Wilson gazed at herself in the mirror. Concealment of her pregnancy was no longer possible. It never dawned on her to tell her employer, Mr. Avery Lucas Keegan, who had expertly seduced her while his wife lay in the hospital with a possible miscarriage. She prayed he might never find out because some instinct told her if he did, it would change her whole life, and likely not for the better. Thus, after her last payday she never went back to Mr. Keegan’s mansion where she worked as a housekeeper.

She was devastated and angered by the injustice of Mr. Keegan taking advantage of her and putting a baby in her belly. He lived in a mansion on a hill and had everything. Her poor baby would have nothing. It was a terrible injustice, she thought, envying Mr. Keegan’s wealth, which the baby he created would never receive any benefit.

The problems with Pap multiplied when, in the first week she was off from work, he reached out his hand for his cut of her salary.

There’ll be no more money, Pap, she said with lowered eyes, fortifying herself against the storm blowing up the minute she spoke.

He snorted, spittle forming at the corners of his mouth marking the telltale sign of his heavy drinking night after night when he came home from his job. Don’t mess with me, girl. Ye rent’s due. Pay up.

I can’t pay you. I won’t be getting any more pay checks, Mattie announced timidly, afraid to look him in the eye.

No paycheck! What the hell does that mean? Then, almost like he was seeing her for the first time in months, he blinked a couple of times, his forehead squeezed into a frown, and his eyes glanced toward her abdomen. His face froze with shock. His mouth fell open and his lips hung like limp pieces of rubber.

What in the hell is this? he snarled, spittle shooting from his mouth. Like a striking snake, his hand jerked at the apron tied about her waist, snatching it from her swollen body. Son of a bitch! How long you been carrying on with someone, girl? Who in the hell does your bastard belong to? he demanded, drawing back his hand to hit her.

Mattie cowered away, throwing up her arms to shield his blow. I don’t know, she lied, knowing Pap must not learn that Mr. Keegan was the father.

Don’t know! What the hell kind of answer is that? How many good for nothing bums have you been sleeping with?

His expression looked dangerous, causing Mattie to cower further away from him. She remembered the often-used path she took through the woods from the Keegan’s place back to Pap’s shack. A story formed quickly in her head and she started pouring out words of desperation.

It happened in the woods when I was coming from work late one evening. Somebody grabbed me from behind, and covered my head with something and did it to me. I don’t know who it was. By the time I got the sack off my head he was gone. Her voice trembled apprehensively, tears running down her cheeks.

Pap seemed to believe her story, but his wrath still boiled. You ain’t gonna’ keep some man’s bastard around here. You can just get rid of it, give it away, do whatever you want with it, but I ain’t going to be feeding another damn mouth. You hear me, girl? he yelled, lurching forward to grab her wrist while his other hand slashed across her cheek, sending her staggering backwards against the wall.

Life was precarious at best the next three months before Mattie would give birth. Once in Mr. Townsend’s store where she bought food, she saw Mr. Keegan there. His shocked gaze of disbelief caused Mattie to cringe fearfully. Seeing him frightened her so badly she turned and ran from the store. She hid outside behind bushes until she saw Mr. Keegan leave not a minute after her. Only then would she go back into Mr. Townsend’s store to buy groceries.

Mr. Townsend gave her the name of a woman who worked for the Social Services Agency whom he said might be able to help her.

Mattie trekked all the way across town to see the woman who lived in a fabulous neighborhood and a beautiful home. It was a whole world away from the other side of the tracks where Mattie lived among ancient homes and shacks falling into ill disrepair. When she stood before the woman’s house, she was flooded with the same misgivings known the first time she stepped over the threshold of the Keegan mansion and witnessed a world of affluence beyond her imagination. It hit her how out of place she was there.

Suddenly, without even going to the door, she turned and hurried away, eager to cross over the tracks into the only place in the world offering her a sense of security.

Lying on her lumpy mattress night after night, she struggled decisively. Pap did not make idle threats. He said he would not feed another mouth and he meant it. Her only option was to leave, or give away her baby when it was born. She didn’t see how she could ever give it away. Every time it kicked, her love for it grew stronger. Having someone to love was the most wonderful feeling known to her since her mama carried to the grave the only love Mattie knew. Having the baby warm and snug inside her had already begun to mend the years of love deprivation. If she gave the baby up for adoption, her empty arms would feel empty forever.

What was she going to do? Night after night the question kept her wakeful. The days offered no peace while she lived with Pap’s anger that could be dangerously close to exploding every evening after he came home from work and consumed at least a six-pack of beer before passing out on the sofa.

Mattie knew a woman who lived close by, and who delivered babies for those who could not afford the hospital. She went to see the woman and got her offer of help with the baby’s birth.

When the day arrived for Mattie’s delivery, she walked to the woman’s house and told her the baby was coming.

Go back home, put on a large pot of water to boil, gather up clean sheets and some clean towels and rags, then put yourself in bed. I’ll be there shortly.

By the time Ettie Mae Brown, midwife, got there, Mattie was already straining and trying to push the babe from her body. Without much help, the infant came into the world crying with healthy lungs. Mattie lulled into a peaceful euphoria since the birth came easy.

At least the first one did.

Mattie had not counted on a second babe, but sure enough, another came popping out of her with as healthy a cry as the first. Ettie Mae commented that it was the first twins she had delivered.

A large wicker basket sat on a table in the corner. Mattie had found it in the trash bin near Mr. Townsend’s grocery store. She made a little mattress to fit, made some tiny sheets and a quilted coverlet, and put some pink ribbon on the handle and around the outer edge of the basket. Since the babies were so tiny, the basket would hold them for a while until they outgrew it.

Ettie Mae Brown finally left when she was sure mother and babies were well. In the days ahead, she stopped by occasionally to see if Mattie needed anything from the store.

Mattie saw Pap peek at the babies only once. He was angry all the time, it spilling out in raving fits when his meal wasn’t ready or when he found something else to complain about. When he consumed many beers, littering the floor with the cans, he threw them at Mattie in violet rage anytime she came through the room. She nursed bruises frequently. Daily, she dreaded Pap’s homecoming from work and the abuse he inflicted on her.

I want them out of here, he kept screaming at her day after day. You get rid of them, else I will, he threatened.

One evening after she made dinner for Pap, she went into the room and nursed the crying babies. Feeling unusually tired after having a restless night previously, she fell asleep after putting the babies in their basket. Mattie slept soundly, enjoying a deep sleep when something awakened her. As her eyes adjusted to the near darkness diluted with a wash of light coming through the open doorway, she saw a shadow above the basket where the babies slept. Alert all at once, she sat up in bed, straining her eyes toward the large shadow. She saw her father standing above the basket with a pillow in his hand. Mattie sprang from the bed.

What are you doing? she cried, jerking the pillow from his hand. His strong smelling beer-breath made her nearly gag. Reaching for the light switch, she flicked it. The sudden brightness illuminated her father’s evil face. Caught in the near act too horrible for words to express, Mattie screamed. Get out of here! Get out of here!

Reality of what he had nearly done seeped through the stupor of drunkenness, and Emory Wilson turned and hurried from the room lest he still do the deed he started.

The near tragedy made Mattie realize she could no longer remain in this house. Pap had been about to kill her babies. She could not take the chance that he might try again.

The next day she took the basket with her babies and went to the bank. She drew out all her money and was flabbergasted to learn that her account contained far more than what her bankbook showed. Mr. Keegan, for whatever reason, had seen fit to deposit a great deal of money into her account, enough to see her safe for many, many months to come.

* * * *

That night Mattie waited until Pap passed out. With her one bag packed full of everything she owned, along with the few baby clothes and diapers, she eased from the house. She headed for the bus stop, hoping a bus would come soon. She hadn’t decided where she was going. It didn’t matter just so she got away from Pap.

Clouds were building in the darkening heavens and rain would soon pour from the sky. Even then, drops started falling and hitting the dirt to create dust puffs. She took the blanket and spread it across the basket, but soon the drops came in earnest and the blanket quickly became wet. She sought the shelter of a storefront whose overhang yielded modest protection from the rain. The babies cried because of the dampness and from hunger, and Mattie cried, too. Weeping blindly, she spotted a cardboard box in front of the store. Although it was damp, she ripped it apart and managed to make a cover to put over the basket to protect the babies from the rain. They continued crying, and Mattie had no idea what to do.

She realized the helplessness of her situation. What was she to do with two tiny infants? She had no home, no place to stay, no one to turn to.

It was then she remembered the social services woman.

From her purse, she took out a piece of paper and wrote the birth date of her babies. She started to write the names she gave them, but changed her mind. She put the paper in the basket and sat there next to it, thinking and crying over what she planned.

After a long time, the rain slackened for a spell. Mattie hid her suitcase in some bushes. Keeping the torn up cardboard box on top of the basket, she walked across town to where the social services woman lived.

The lights were on in the house. With tears still pouring as wildly as the rain, she went up the steps to the small roofed porch. Setting the basket down in front of the door, she knelt and kissed each of her babies. She started to ring the doorbell, but bent down and kissed them again. The rain came harder and she was aware the babies needed to be inside where it was warm and dry. Quickly, she rose and pressed her finger against the little lighted doorbell button and the chimes from inside rang in her ear. With one last quick look at her babies, she rushed down the steps, hurrying toward a nearby bush to hide.

Before Mattie arrived at the bush, she came to a stop when a sudden change of heart overtook her so strongly she knew she would stop breathing if she didn’t turn back. Running, she went back and grabbed the handle of the basket. When she tried to lift it, the handle broke and the babies nearly spilled out on the concrete floor of the porch. In the window, Mattie could see someone inside the house walking toward the front door. With no time to spare, she reached inside the basket and grabbed one of the babies. She released her bosom from her clothing to let the baby find her breast to keep it quiet while she ran behind the bush.

Nearly blinded by rain and tears, she watched in misery as the door opened, spilling light onto the porch and the basket containing her other baby. She didn’t know which baby she held, didn’t know if it was her tiny girl or her little boy. Either way, her heart lay bare and bleeding inside that basket with her tiny infant as the woman lifted her baby, dragged the basket inside the house, and closed the door behind her.

Mattie felt sobs choking her. She started walking. Where would she go? What would she do with a tiny baby?

She hugged the little baby to her bosom and kissed its tiny cheek, the strong sense of loss for the baby left behind like a knife in her heart. The baby in her arms seemed somehow torn in half with the absence of the child she was leaving. How could she go through life with this one baby always reminding her of the one she gave away? What was she to do?

CHAPTER ONE

Florida, 1984

Nicole Duval, assistant prosecutor for the state attorney’s office, stepped from the elevator onto the marble floor of the wide corridor leading to Judge Douglas Keegan’s courtroom. She carried her attaché case in her right hand. With the other, she straightened the jacket of her pale blue tailor-made suit. Long wavy black hair, pulled back into an attractive chignon, framed a lovely face with wispy little curls. Her high-heeled pumps clicked on the marble floor, halting just outside the courtroom door.

Pausing a moment, Nicole scanned the benches scattered along the corridor, looking for a witness. He was nowhere in sight.

She moved toward the courtroom entrance.

Just as she reached for the handle of the door, a masculine hand darted from behind her to grab it first. Nicole stepped back, turning to gaze at the defendant’s attorney whose broad, white-toothed smile slit across his pale face. He had not missed her expression of disappointment while searching the faces for her one and only witness.

Problem, Miss Duval? His hand still held onto the door handle and showed no rush to open the door so they could enter the courtroom.

Why would you think that? Nicole asked nonchalantly.

It appears you might be short your only witness, he stated brightly, still smiling.

He’ll be here, she replied, not believing it after calling him last night and again this morning without getting an answer.

He pulled the door open with a flourish. After you, Miss Assistant Prosecutor, he blurted out cheerfully, his gaze slyly taunting.

With squared shoulders, Nicole brushed past him. Without disturbing her organized documents, she lifted them from the case and placed them in front of her. She kept casting furtive glances over her shoulder in search of her witness, the gesture hardly going unnoticed by the defense.

He’s not going to show up, she thought.

Nicole watched a security officer open the doors for the court spectators who quickly found seats. The bailiff stood and faced them. All rise—the court is now in session, the Honorable Douglas Anthony Keegan presiding.

Judge Keegan, dressed in his black robe, entered the courtroom through a rear door behind his bench. He was a compelling man with his more than six foot height and strong build, easily drawing attention to himself. His eyes moved across the room in a panning sweep, coming to rest on Nicole. A nerve ending sparked, and a lightning thrill raced through her.

Nicole returned his gaze, their eyes meeting briefly as he stepped up to the judge’s bench to take his seat. Even from the distance where she stood, she noticed his startling green eyes that were so much like her own. His powerful stature, quiet authority, and handsome features had awed her for years. The fact that they had no social contact did not mar Nicole’s strange emotional attachment to Douglas Keegan. She felt somehow bonded with him.

Please take your seats, the bailiff called, and a sudden shuffling of noise spun down to silence.

The jurors, impaneled the previous day, marched in a line to their juror seats.

With a sharp report of his gavel, Judge Keegan opened the proceedings while Nicole stared into those brilliant green eyes appreciatively. He caught her staring, and she must have blushed ten shades of red. Lowering her eyes quickly, she snapped her head around to scan the spectators for her witness.

He still hadn’t shown up.

Following the opening procedures, Judge Keegan addressed Nicole. Is the prosecution prepared to give an opening statement?

Nicole started to reply when a plain-clothes police officer came up the aisle, moved up behind her and whispered in her ear.

Nicole stood up. May I approach, Your Honor?

He motioned her to step forward, and the defense counsel followed on her heels.

Your Honor, I was just informed that my key witness will not be here. He’s an undercover police officer who doesn’t want to divulge his identity since it could likely inhibit future undercover efforts or even endanger his life.

I take it you have no other witnesses? His usually sparkling green eyes weren’t sparkling. They seemed dark with impatience.

No, I do not, Your Honor.

I move for a dismissal. The prosecution clearly has no case against my client, the defense counsel stated.

Noted, Judge Keegan replied. Please have a seat.

Judge Keegan briefly explained the situation to the court and dismissed the case. He thanked the jury and dismissed them. Then everyone stood and watched Judge Keegan leave his bench and exit the courtroom.

Nicole caught the smirking grin of the defense attorney, and shot the man a haughty look of disdain.

Nice work, Counselor, he cajoled with mockery; still pissed that Nicole had refused to go out with him on a few occasions when he had asked.

Hearing the defense attorney gloat, she sent him a look of wry amusement. "Oh, don’t congratulate me, Fred, just because I gave you the first victory you’ve won in ages. Thanks would be more apt. Her point hit home. He had been on a losing streak for the previous four cases he defended.

The cheeky grin disappeared from his face. He turned a sour look on Nicole that said she had touched a nerve, and he went on his way.

Gathering up her documents, Nicole grasped the handle of her attaché case and went to her office where she sorted through the documents on the next case she was preparing for trial. Her attention was unfocused. She had been in Judge Keegan’s courtroom many times, but oddly, this time she carried lingering impressions with her as his green eyes kept intruding on her attention to her work.

The man had been inside her head for years, ever since the time he signed on at her father’s law firm where Nicole first met him at an employee Christmas party. He was the most handsome man she’d ever seen, and he instantly became her idol, her hero, and her superstar. Douglas took the star role in all her dreams.

Then her dreams were shattered.

Attacked on the evening of her graduation from law school and left for dead, the dreams died. Two years of her life went down the tube before she took her bar exam and passed it. By then, Douglas was reaching for higher challenges and had left her father’s firm. She hired on in his stead, becoming a workaholic. The job became a substitute for all the other missing parts of her life.

In time, she no longer wanted to defend criminals. They reminded her too much of the one who destroyed her dreams. She wanted a position where she could put guilty perpetrators behind bars, not free them. She interviewed for the position of assistant prosecutor for the state attorney’s office and got the job. She always suspected her father’s friendship with district attorney, Thomas Brice, paved the way to her new position.

The job called for longer hours, a fact Nicole learned on the first day of work. Shadowing prosecutor Benson Boward in court that first day, she learned how to handle a caseload, starting with the arraignment and right on through the succeeding steps to the trial. With many cases passing through the state attorney’s office, it prevented a long training period for newly hired prosecutors such as Nicole. Thrown into the hub of prosecution protocol, she started taking on her own cases in the first week of her job.

The fact that she and Judge Douglas Anthony Keegan worked under the same roof every day gave her job added appeal. Her attraction to him sparked an enthusiasm she didn’t ordinarily have.

At a quarter to six, she stuffed the file folders of information from her desk into her attaché case. She routinely took work home nightly, and it frequently kept her busy late into the evening. Tonight would not be an exception.

Just when she started to leave the office, her phone rang.

Hello, Nicole said.

Hi, Nicole, this is Laura. Are you doing anything after work?

I’m taking home an attaché case full of work.

All work and no play will make you old before your time, Laura teased. How about having a drink with me at the Everglades Lounge? There’s a guy I’m hoping to see there again.

Nicole thought about the work in her attaché case and knew she should go home. Yet, she needed a respite from home, office and courtroom for a change. The lounge where Laura wanted them to go was a hangout for lawyers during cocktail hour. She knew many of them by name from the courtroom, but she never associated with them more than to exchange greetings. Laura was only an acquaintance, but was the nearest thing she had for a friend.

She shrugged her shoulders. Okay, I’ll stop for a little while. I’ll meet you there.

* * * *

Nicole was the first to step into the elevator before it filled with people. Trying to see past the tall form with extra wide shoulders, Nicole suddenly did a double take. Douglas Keegan stood right in front of her, and a faint scent of cologne teased her nostrils. Her heart clapped like thunder and raced to keep up with her excitement. This was the first time she had been this physically close to him since joining on with the DA’s office.

When the elevator stopped and the door opened, Douglas stepped aside and let the women exit first. Nicole glanced up and smiled at him as she left the elevator. Resisting the urge to look over her shoulder, she headed toward the parking garage.

Nicole, wait up, Douglas called, hurrying to catch up.

Nicole slowed, trying not to wear her racing heart on her sleeve. Judge Keegan, she said surprised, and hoped her heart wouldn’t pound out of her chest.

Do you mind if I walk with you?

No, not at all.

When I saw you in court today, I thought about you and our meeting a few years back at your father’s firm. I believe it was a Christmas party.

That’s been awhile. I’m surprised you remembered me.

I remember many things about you, Counselor, he said with a smile of amusement.

Oh? How can that be when we rarely saw each other after we met?

All at once, the last time she saw Douglas raced across Nicole’s memory. Her actions were right at home back then, but recalling what she did brought shame and embarrassment. Douglas had been standing beneath mistletoe. Nicole, overconfident to a fault, and not afraid to go after what she wanted, decided she wanted Douglas. She snuck up from behind, eased in front of him where she went up on tiptoe to press the longest and wettest kiss in history on his lips.

While Douglas was still in shock over the kiss, Nicole came up for air, and whispered in his ear, I love you, Douglas Keegan, and one day I’m going to marry you.

He smiled with remembrance. Counselor, there are some things a man chooses not to forget.

She felt the blood hot in her face, and was keenly aware he was referring to that kiss and her crass declaration. I’ve always wondered if I had anything to do with you leaving my dad’s firm, she said with a sly grin.

He threw back his head and laughed. Not at all. If anything, I wanted to stick around, but I had all ready given my resignation to Lewis.

I hope you realize I was young, overly confident, and extremely foolish.

You disappoint me, Counselor. I was hoping you meant everything you said to me that night.

Nicole glanced sharply at him. With a wry smile, she said, Would it surprise you to know I meant everything I said at the time? Joking about it was the only way she would ever save face.

Then it was my loss.

We’ll never know, will we?

Oh, I wouldn’t say that, Douglas countered and grinned.

Nicole just smiled at him.

You’ve done well for yourself, I hear, Douglas said, referring to her score sheet of having won a majority of the cases she prosecuted.

I suppose, she replied. I try, but it doesn’t compare to your success.

Douglas shrugged. It’s a matter of politics.

Yes, such as the best man wins, she said with sincere praise.

He turned his chin as though his collar was too tight, apparently not a man who liked talking about self.

Nicole headed toward the stairwell of the parking garage. My car is on four, she said.

I’ll walk with you.

Okay.

Are you married, Nicole? he asked as they were going up the cement stairs.

No, I’m not married, she replied after a pause.

Would you think it presumptuous if I asked you to have dinner with me this evening?

Nicole chuckled, glancing sharply at him from the corner of her eye. You get right to the point.

I learned from a good teacher, he teased, laughing.

Nicole’s face turned red from his implication, but she grinned. I promised a friend I’d meet her for a drink at the Everglades.

That’s the lounge just east of here, isn’t it? I went there once for a retirement celebration for an old attorney friend of mine.

That’s the one. I’ve heard it referred to as the legal bar because so many attorneys hail the cocktail hour there.

They left the stairwell, and Nicole headed for her car. She unlocked the door.

I remember this car, Douglas said, running his hand over the side. It’s the same one you had when you were in law school.

You seem to recall many things about me, Douglas. I didn’t think you even knew I existed. Her hands felt clammy and her shoulders tense.

I suppose I gave you reason to think that, but actually, your father warned me off. Stay away from her, Douglas. I won’t have you breaking her heart, he mimicked, using her father’s tone.

Dad told you that?

He sure did. Afterwards, I stayed away from you.

You’re joking, Douglas. I can’t believe you were that intimidated by my dad.

Your father is one of the finest attorneys I know. I’ve always admired and respected him. It mattered to me what he thought of me, and I wasn’t about to jeopardize his friendship by…

By putting the make on his daughter? she interjected.

You were an interesting challenge, Counselor.

I was a foolish young schoolgirl in those days with more confidence than good sense. I’m not like that anymore. She glanced down toward her shoes.

Don’t be so hard on the young girl you were then. I thought she was charming. His eyes sparkled wickedly.

You’re making fun of me, Douglas, she chided, her face blazing with embarrassment.

Not in the least. You were energetic, spirited, terribly self-confident, and although you had a mental roadmap of where you were going, you still took time to embrace the simple things of life. I was extremely attracted to you.

Nicole laughed. You broke my heart when you left dad’s firm.

Douglas studied her face until Nicole became uncomfortable and looked away. Not for long, I imagine, he chuckled. You won’t change your mind and have dinner with me, I suppose?

Thanks, but my friend Laura will be expecting me.

Then would you consider letting me buy you and your friend a drink?

It’s a public place, Your Honor. She was sorry the minute she said it. Her heart remained too vulnerable where Douglas was concerned. Seeing him again would invite feelings she wasn’t prepared to handle.

She pulled open her car door and slid behind the wheel.

I’ll see you in a little while, he said, touching her shoulder with the palm of his hand before pushing the car door shut.

His hand burnt Nicole’s shoulder and left her nerves tingling.

* * * *

Nicole paused inside the lounge to give her eyes time to adjust to the dark interior. She glanced about for Laura and spotted her in a corner booth with a man. He had his arm about her and they were laughing.

Nicole went to the bar, glad of having formed a polite friendship of sorts with Rick, the bartender. Taking a stool, she watched Rick mixing and serving drinks. He poured her one and set it in front of her, knowing what she always drank on her infrequent visits.

Rough day, Nicole? Rick asked, taking her money and ringing the sale on the register.

It could have been worse, she sighed, taking a sip of her drink.

The cocktail crowd filtered in intermittently. Nicole sat at the end of the bar next to the wall with three empty stools to her right.

She glanced toward a brightly lit jukebox, silent at the moment.

Taking coins from her purse, she went and dropped them in the slot and pushed buttons. The jukebox blared to life with Unchained Melody. Walking back to her bar stool, her stomach growled, and she thought about the leftover Chinese in her refrigerator and all the work planned for the evening.

Then Laura spotted her and came hurrying across the floor. Nicole, she called, feeling no need to lower her voice. There you are.

Here I am, Nicole echoed, sipping her drink.

I have a confession to make, Laura said penitently. We’ve decided to leave. I hope you don’t mind,

Nicole shrugged. Would it make a difference?

You won’t be upset with me, will you?

Go and enjoy yourself, Nicole sighed heavily, wishing she had gone home.

Okay, maybe I’ll see you at work tomorrow. Laura turned and joined her boyfriend, the two of them entwined in each other’s arms as they left.

They would end up in bed together, Nicole guessed. Women’s lib had turned the tide on women’s sexual activity, thus setting a trend of growing promiscuity by women. A mentality existed that if it’s okay for men, then its okay for women, too.

Nicole saw herself as the exception.

Lifting her drink and taking a sip, she glanced toward the door. She decided Judge Keegan wasn’t coming.

She listened to the two songs she played on the jukebox. Then she opened her purse to take out a dollar for Rick’s tip when a long muscular leg brushed against hers. A masculine form with intoxicating cologne that Nicole recalled from earlier settled on the stool next to her. Her heart did a strange thump, thump, much like a ball bouncing in her chest.

When she looked up, those green eyes looked straight at her. Blood rushed to her face and curdled there in red splotches across her cheeks. She turned away shyly, fearing that if her heart didn’t settle down soon she might topple over with a heart attack.

Hi, I’m not too late, am I? Where’s your friend?

You probably passed her when you came in. She just left. I should go home, Nicole thought.

Did you think I wasn’t coming? Douglas asked, glancing at her empty glass. His breath smelled of sweet mint.

It crossed my mind, she replied, twisting on a stir stick.

I should have told you I had an errand to run first.

No problem. I was just about to leave. Nicole was trying to remain calm, but being this close to Douglas made it impossible. She was amazed at how quickly old feelings came racing back. What she had felt for Douglas long ago was still as potent as ever.

He reached over and took her hand between his palms. I wish you wouldn’t leave. I’d like the opportunity to get to know you.

Their gazes met and held. Warmth seeped from his hands into her hand. Nicole withdrew her hand, trying her best not to pant breathlessly while he touched her.

I’ll be with you in a minute, Rick called down the bar, busy filling orders for a large party of people who came in just before Douglas.

A silence spanned between them until Douglas spoke. You have changed, haven’t you?

Nicole glanced sharply at him. I grew up.

No, it’s more than that. You’re different, more sedate and refined, less spirited, and maybe, he studied her, not too happy.

People change, she said defensively and shrugged.

It must have been a traumatic reason to cause you to lose that golden spirit and bubbling laughter.

Nicole ignored the statement.

Douglas reached over, took her hand, and plucked the stir stick from her fingers. She had been twisting it, tying it in a knot, chewing on it, and tapping it against the side of her glass—all unconsciously.

Are you nervous, Nicole? he asked, staring at the mangled stir stick.

She took a deep breath and sighed. It’s just a bad habit, she replied. Some people smoke. I twist stir sticks.

Having finished serving his large group of people, Rick hurried down to where they sat. I’m sorry it took so long. What can I get you?

Whatever the lady is having, and bring her a fresh one.

Rick smiled as he went to pour the drinks, glad to see Nicole talking to someone for a change. He had always pegged her as a loner.

He put the glasses of orange juice in front of them.

Someone dropped coins in the jukebox and it crooned out the sounds of a love song.

A couple of people left their seats and moved onto the tiny makeshift dance floor. Wrapped snugly in each other’s arms, their feet barely moved to the music.

Nicole felt Douglas’s arm fall across the back of the bar stool, encircling her back. After all the time that had passed since their first meeting, his closeness still felt wonderful. She almost forgot the acid dread that could eat holes in her flimsy self-confidence, almost forgot that she could never be more to a man than a mere acquaintance. She wanted to enjoy this brief respite with Douglas, wanted to carry away some small memory that would satiate her hunger for love and companionship when life turned unbearable with loneliness.

Feeling his breath on her cheek, she automatically turned to face him, and her nose nearly collided with his. She jerked back and laughed.

I was going to ask you to dance, he smiled, pleased at the sound of her laughter.

No, I don’t think so, she replied, gathering defenses about her against being held in his arms and pressed against his masculine form.

Douglas slid off the bar stool, a man not used to accepting no for an answer. Ahhh, come on. I won’t step on your toes. I promise.

She shook her head, clearly meaning no, but he tugged gently at her arm until she slid off the barstool. On the dance floor, he pulled her against him. Their warm bodies fit together like a glove. His face pressed into her hair at her ear where long tresses slipped from bobby pins and combs. Reaching up, he pulled out the two little combs and bobby pins and watched her long polished black tresses slide in shimmering waves down on her shoulders. Then, burying his nose in the clean shampoo smell, his cheek touched Nicole’s cheek.

Nicole raised her head, watching him with an awed sense of caution. The music, soft lights, and atmosphere had the pleasant tendency of lowering one’s resolve. Douglas’s easy familiarity put her on guard.

You’re beautiful, he said, touching her cheek with his lips.

She wanted to tell him he needed glasses, but feeling so warm and cozy, she didn’t want to shatter the illusion. All those strong feelings from years previously were having a revival. She had seriously loved Douglas Keegan in those carefree days. In the warmth of his arms now, she believed she loved him still.

You’re a good dancer, he whispered, his hot breath tickling her inner ear.

Only as good as my partner, she murmured, as he moved her gracefully to the music’s rhythm.

I was always sorry I let your father warn me away from you. I think we had something special in common. At least, I felt we did. Still do.

Why is it I find that hard to believe?

You’ve become such a skeptic, Nicole. That’s so unlike who you were when we first met.

Nicole took a deep breath and let it out. I’m not who you think I am, Douglas. That young girl you knew back then is gone forever.

He tightened his arms about her. It’s not the young girl I’m interested in. It’s the one in my arms right now.

I’m honored by your interest, but I’m afraid it’s wasted because I don’t have time outside my job.

You have to be kidding. I can’t imagine anyone dedicating their life solely to work.

The music stopped and they walked back to their seats. Drinking a swallow of orange juice, Nicole set her glass down on the napkin. She turned to look at the man who once was the object of her obsession. I’ve enjoyed your company, Douglas, but I must go.

He looked at her and stated disappointedly. Does that mean you won’t have dinner with me?

She shrugged. It’s nothing personal. I have a briefcase full of work that needs my attention.

Then perhaps another time, he said, sorry to see her leave. I’ll walk you to your car.

CHAPTER TWO

Oh, God, not now! Nicole exclaimed.

God seemed not to hear her.

Her long fingers