The Devil Has Dimples Read online

  Burning with embarrassment, I couldn’t utter a sound.

  “Who are you and why are you so determined to speak to me today?”

  Sitting at his desk, he leaned back. A man secure in his mahogany world. He gazed at me and waited.

  I opened my handbag, withdrew a letter, and handed it to him. “I’m Sara McLaughlin, and you mailed me this letter.”

  Surprise lit up his face, then disappointment. He handed the letter back to me. It looked as though he were judging me. “I know what it says. I honestly didn’t think you would show up here.”

  I stiffened at that remark. Jumping up, I shouted at him. “And why not? I get a letter from an attorney that tells me I’m adopted! A letter! You don’t deliver news like that in a letter. It’s cold. Cold and rude. Impersonal as though I’m, I’m, I’m…” I couldn’t think of what to say. I felt like a nonperson. Unworthy. I clamped my jaw shut and sat down abruptly in the chair, crossing my arms, crossing my legs, crossing my mind.

  He paused for a moment, staring at me intensely.

  “You didn’t know you were adopted?” He tapped his pen against the legal pad again. A deep frown marred his face.

  It confused me. Why was he frowning? I didn’t know what to say. The truth sounds so stupid, but it was the truth. I hadn’t a clue.

  “No.”

  He stopped tapping his pen. “I thought you knew.”

  Stunned, I just sat there. Just as I had when I received the letter and its contents that afternoon. What was I doing here? I decided enough was enough.

  I was going home.

  Jumping up, I walked to the door. As I put my hand on the knob, I stopped. I couldn’t help it. I shut my eyes and placed my forehead on the doorframe. Tears rushed up to my eyes before I could stop them. I was alone. Totally forever alone.

  There was no one left alive who loved me, or even cared about me.

  I felt a firm hand on my shoulder and as I turned around, a hankie was pressed into my hand and arms went around me. A stranger’s arms. I let loose then, and cried harder. I turned my back to the attorney. I didn’t want anyone to see me cry.

  No one held me when the police came to tell me about my mother dying in a car accident two months ago or at her funeral. No one held me at my father’s funeral seventeen years ago. No one held me when I received the hateful news that I was adopted this morning.

  No one has held me for a very long time.

  Not even my ex before the divorce.

  I didn’t know that hugs could be comforting, caring, calming. Until now.

  Stopping my tears, I wiped my cheeks. Grant St. Romain moved away from me, and I looked up into his face.

  I was a goner. Jock? Did it really matter?

  His eyes were mesmerizing, deep brown pools flecked with traces of gold and surrounded with thick black lashes that any woman would covet.

  He released his hold on me. It was all I could do not to grab him and make him wrap his arms around me again. I didn’t know this man, but I wanted his arms around me so bad it hurt. Or at least for another minute. Or forever. At this stage, I wasn’t particular.

  He walked back behind his desk and sat, ever the professional, but curiosity gleamed in his eyes.

  Twisting the handkerchief in my fingers, I noticed that it, too, was pink. I gave a brief smile as I clasped it tighter in my hands. “No, I didn’t know. It came as a complete shock.”

  “Again, I’m sorry.” His voice was compassionate, caring. Different from the stern quality it had when he first found out I was Maudie Cooper’s daughter. “Where do you want to go from here?”

  Home. I wanted to go home and crawl in bed, throwing the covers over my head. Instead, I crossed the room and sat in the chair, leaned my head against the back, and closed my eyes. I needed to think.

  But my mind was still whirling with the news. I was adopted.

  Snapping my head forward, I glanced at Grant St. Romain. He stared at me intently. Waiting. Patiently.

  “You said in your letter that there were conditions. Exactly what are they?”

  Grant reached for his phone, punched a button, then spoke into the receiver. “Alice, bring me Maudie’s file.”

  He cleared his throat. “I want to read the will to you, word for word. I know what it says, and I don’t particularly agree with everything Maudie put in her will, but it was her decision.”

  The doorknob rattled, and pounding on the door followed. Grant rose to unlock it. He raised an eyebrow in my direction.

  Once the door opened, Alice shoved a file into his hands, glanced around the room suspiciously and sent me a scathing look.

  Feeling a guilty flush rise up my neck and into my cheeks, I sunk deeper into the leather chair.

  She slammed the door forcefully, so I guessed I was still not on her list of favorite people.

  Grant opened the file and searched for the will. Finding the specific paper, he began to read aloud.

  “I, Maudie Cooper, being of sound mind and body, do hereby bequeath all my worldly goods and possessions to my only child, Sara Elizabeth Cooper, known as Sara Elizabeth McLaughlin, if she will do the following:

  Sara, you must live in my apartment for the next six weeks. You may not spend more than twenty-four hours out of town. You must run my business, Tuesdays through Saturdays at my usual hours during this period, except for national holidays. Once this requirement is met, at the end of six weeks, you may keep or dispose of my belongings and investments as you see fit.

  If you should not choose to follow my instructions, then everything will be liquidated within one month of the delivery of this will. The proceeds will then be given to create a college scholarship in my name at Boggy Bayou High School.”

  Grant put the will back into the file, closed it and leaned back in his chair.

  “That’s it?”

  “Yes. That is what I was directed to tell you. If you meet the conditions that Maudie set forth, then you inherit everything.”

  “But...I wanted some...answers.” I started to twist the pink hankie in my hands.

  “What sort of answers?”

  Numb, I stood and walked to the window. It faced a courthouse square. Boggy Bayou was a charming little town. Several old men sat whittling and spitting while sitting on a park bench. A young woman pushed a baby stroller. A squirrel ran along the power line. Everything was so ordinary. So perfect. Every one of those people knew who they were. And where they belonged.

  Slowly, I began to speak. “Mr. St. Romain, I want to know who my birth parents were. Why did they give me up for adoption? Why didn’t my parents ever tell me I was adopted? Why wait until now to let me know the truth? And why not tell me the whole truth?”

  Grant rose from his chair and walked to the window and stood behind me. His presence calmed me for some reason I couldn’t explain. His deep whiskey voice soothed my strung-out nerves. I wanted to fling myself into his arms, and get that sense of peace and quiet that I received earlier.

  “I don’t know. Maudie surprised me when she told me she had a daughter. She knew your mother died. I told her that she should contact you then, but she was hesitant and said she didn’t want to interfere with your life.”

  I turned around to face him.

  “She gave me life. Once both of my parents were dead, why wouldn’t she contact me then?”

  He seemed grim. “If you want to find out any answers, you need to follow the conditions of her will.”

  I looked at him directly in the face. “That’s a stupid idea.”

  I returned to the chair and sat. Here I was in a no-name town, talking to a part-time wrestler in pink socks and boxers, thinking what a hunk he was, while he’s discussing the will of a mother I never knew about. And he thinks I should drop everything in my life to follow her wishes. Right.

  But my life was on hold while I settled my mother’s estate. I wasn’t scheduled to return to work until after the Christmas break. If I wanted to pursue my past, now was the time.


  Grant walked back to his desk and sat down. “Then all you have to do is get out of that chair and leave Boggy Bayou. In a month, all of Maudie’s things will be sold. But then, you’ll never have the answers to your questions.”

  “Surely someone in this town knows the truth and is willing to tell me what happened.”

  Grant finger-brushed his hair back. “I hate to tell you this, Sara, but absolutely no one ever knew that Maudie gave birth to a child. Everyone here in town is related to each other, and they all talk to each other and about each other. There was never a hint or a guess that Maudie had a daughter. No one has any answers. Except Maudie, and she’s no longer here. But she left a lot of things, both in her apartment and her store. Perhaps your answers are there, in her belongings.”

  “There has to be some other way than spending time here to find out the truth.”

  “I doubt it.”

  My hands tightened into fists. Who was this woman who so freely gave away a baby? She was dead, so what difference should it make to me? I grabbed my purse off the chair and headed for the door. As I turned the knob, I said. “I won’t do it.”

  “It’s your decision.”

  I hurried out of his office and my vision blurred. I felt Alice’s stare bore into me as I walked past her. I didn’t care. I felt like hell.

  I had been lucky to find a parking place in front of the office earlier, so I pulled open the door and got inside.

  Then the overpowering feeling of regret crushed me.

  What should I do? Who was I? I didn’t know anymore. My parents were not my birth parents. Why didn’t they ever tell me I was adopted? I wouldn’t have loved them any less. They were all I had known.

  But apparently I didn’t know them at all. I didn’t even know myself. No wonder I stood out like a sore thumb at family reunions. The only redhead in a brunette clan, the only one with hazel eyes, the only one who was exceedingly tall, even as a child. The whispers that would stop whenever I was around. The sidelong glances. I didn’t belong there. They knew it, but I didn’t. But maybe deep down, I did know.

  Was that why my mother slapped Aunt Sally when she was drunk and began to say something about me at a family reunion? Was that why we never went to another reunion again? There were so many questions, and I didn’t have any answers.

  Why didn’t my birth mother keep me? Why did she give me away?

  A few long minutes later, my tears finally stopped. I kept my head on the steering wheel. I felt so tired. Exhausted.

  A knocking on the car window brought my head up.

  Alice. She rapped again.

  I didn’t want to talk to her, but I rolled down the window anyway.

  She gave me a searching look. “You okay, girl?”

  Why would she care?

  “I’m fine.” I snuffled.

  “You going to give up on Maudie?”

  I sighed. “She gave up on me a long time ago.”

  Alice raised her eyebrow. “Did she? You’re here. Seems to me she wants you to know her.” She lowered her head and looked at me intently, her dark brown eyes searching my face. “You a coward, girl?”

  My heart sank. Was I? Could I do this? Could I spend time in this quaint little town? Could I dig through my mother’s possessions and find out the truth? Would my father’s name be mentioned somewhere? Surely, he would know why I was given up for adoption. Or would he? Would he even be alive? I needed to know the truth.

  Could I bear the truth?

  I didn’t know the answers to these questions, but I had to try to find them, or else I would always wonder.

  Who was I?

  I rolled up the window and opened the door. Alice gave me a big approving grin. She held out her hand and I automatically slipped mine into hers. It felt so warm. I wondered what changed her attitude toward me so drastically.

  “I knew you would do it. Maudie always liked a challenge too. You better hurry. He’s leaving in a few minutes.”

  She slammed my car door shut, then grasped my shoulder and gave me a little squeeze, and pushed me toward the office. “It’ll be all right. Find the answers to your questions.”

  I turned and walked toward the building.

  I met him coming down the stairs. He gazed at me with a question in his eyes. It was all I could do to look at him. I kept remembering his pink underwear. And the body in it.

  My heart beat wildly.

  “I think I can handle six weeks. I need to know the truth, or I won’t be able to go on with my life. Just give me the keys and directions.” I reached out my hand, hoping that he wouldn’t notice they were shaking.

  Grant clasped my hand and heat spread up my arm then made a u-turn southbound and I started to flush somewhere else.

  “I’ll take you there.” He didn’t look too happy about the prospect.

  I withdrew my hand reluctantly. I needed to get away from this man. He was doing strange things to my system, and distance would put me back in control. At least, I hoped it would. I needed to think, and his closeness was destroying that ability.

  “You don’t have to do that. I’m sure I can find my way.”

  He frowned. “I live there.”

  “Where?”

  “Maudie was my godmother. I rent a room in her apartment, so we’re going to be roommates for the next six weeks.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  She was stunning.

  She stalked into my office like a tiger. All movement, fluid and smooth, as if she owned her skin. Her hair glimmered in the light like a flame, my fingers itched to touch it, to see if they would burn.

  My heart stopped. I felt like Michael in the second Godfather movie, when he saw the love of his life for the first time. But, I knew better.

  Love wasn’t for me.

  Lust would have to suit. And it was lust I felt looking at her. It couldn’t be anything else. I wouldn’t allow it. I thought I would embarrass myself before I put my pants on.

  Then to find out that she is Maudie’s daughter. I know the gods must be laughing. She’s the one woman in the world that I can’t have. Won’t have.

  Unless.

  No. It would never work out.

  I can be professional around her. I can help her search for her father, then get her out of town and my life as soon as possible.

  I think my heart might not stand to be around her for too long.

  I must be out of my mind.

  * * *

  “You must be out of your mind!”

  He gave me a big smile. “Not nearly. It’ll be great. I won’t have pink underwear anymore, as Maudie always did my laundry, plus she fixed breakfast and dinner.” He looked at me with a question in his eyes. “You do know how to cook, don’t you?”

  I just stood there. I knew my mouth was open. How attractive that must be. I couldn’t spend six weeks with this man. He would drive me crazy. I wanted his arms around me. I wanted those big warm hands on me. I wanted to wrestle with him.

  I must be going nuts!

  “Come on, do you know how to cook?” He flashed that dimple again.

  It was warfare of a new type. Death by dimples.

  “Yes...I cook...I took some courses...in college.”

  He actually rubbed his hands together.

  “Great! And call me Grant. Mr. St. Romain is too formal for roommates.”

  The next six weeks were going to be something. What, I didn’t know yet. But I just had to overlook the dimples.

  Grant hesitated. He looked serious.

  “Sara, if your search for the truth gets too difficult, you can always stop and go home to Baton Rouge.”

  I grimaced. What home? There was only a house filled with sad memories. “But then I will never know the answers. I still might not find out what I need to know about my birth parents, but I have to try, or I’ll always wonder.”

  “We can’t have that.” We proceeded down the stairs and out of the building.

  “By the way, what did you have planned for dinner? I’m fa
mished after my workout at the high school.”

  Two could play at this game.

  “Why, nothing. As your newest client, you’re taking me out to dinner as soon as you show me the apartment.”

  He sighed. “Ouch! You have Maudie’s tendencies. Whenever she could corner me into buying her dinner, we ate out.”

  He hesitated at the bottom of the steps. “You need to give me a ride. My car stalled at the high school and I walked back.”

  “Sure. Where is Maudie’s apartment located?” We reached my car and I dug in my handbag for the keys.

  “Just across from the courthouse. You could have seen it from my office window.”

  I glanced around the square. “Her apartment is in the business district?”

  “Just above the antique store. It’s really quite large, has a balcony that faces the street, quiet at night. I generally just walk to my office. The courthouse is across the street, Hank’s Hole-in-the-Wall is on the other side, we call it the Hole, absolutely perfect for me. I save tons of time being close to the courthouse.”

  We got into my car and I headed in the direction that Grant pointed.

  “You can park in the alley behind the store. Just turn here and slip into that parking slot next to the truck.”

  “Whose truck?”

  “Maudie’s. Now yours, or it will be in six weeks.”

  “What did she need a truck for?”

  He opened the car door and stepped out. I did the same.

  “Maudie generally didn’t open until noon and she closed at six. She made her antiquing forays in the truck in the mornings or on Mondays, her only full day off besides Sunday.”

  I opened the trunk and Grant reached in and grabbed the small suitcase that I had hurriedly packed in case I had to stay overnight.