Misconceptions Page 4

  Vinnie hummed some tune under his breath while he filled both glasses.

  Travis struggled to steady his hand as he lifted his glass. He was completely out of his league, yet what choice did he have if he wanted to save his business?

  Only time would tell if this was the best decision he had ever made, or the worst mistake of his life.

  Chapter Five

  Houston paced past his wife, down the length of the hospital waiting room, and back to the door. He looked out into the hallway. Joe was still talking with the social worker on duty. Travis had been true to his word and had been a no-show. Despite meeting for an hour, things were still unresolved.

  “I’m sure we’ll be able to come to some sort of compromise with the hospital,” Becky said. “What do you think, Houston?”

  “Not if he doesn’t give up this ridiculous notion. Can’t say that I blame them.”

  “We’ll work it out.” Becky responded.

  Houston bit back a sarcastic reply. He’ll never change. He loved Becky more today than when he married her twelve years ago, but on this one issue, could she ever see his side? Almost every time they argued, it’s over the same one thing: his father, Samuel Armstrong.

  Becky loved him. Houston tolerated him for his wife’s sake. He looked around the sterile surroundings in the hospital waiting room. Although they attempted to make the atmosphere more comfortable, the tiled floors and metal furniture were a constant reminder that this place was not home.

  Houston ran his hand along Becky’s face. “I’m sorry, honey. I just don’t see any other way.”

  Becky blew her nose into an already worn tissue. “There’s always an alternative, Houston. I can’t imagine putting your dad in that place.”

  “It’s what the doctor recommended. You heard him; Samuel’s mind is slipping.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with Dad’s mind. He’s as sharp as a tack.” Becky rose from the sofa and let out a sigh. “Are you ready to head home? I’m exhausted.”

  Houston came up behind her and wrapped her in his arms. Leaning down, he placed a kiss on her neck. “How about I make dinner tonight?”

  “Now that’s an offer I can’t refuse.” She returned his kiss. “Let’s go.”

  Once in the parking lot, Houston said, “Please tell me you don’t believe my father’s overactive imagination. I can’t believe he thinks God is allowing only Christians to get pregnant. I’m sorry, but in my book this proves the doctor is right.”

  Becky rubbed the goose bumps covering her arms. “I really don’t know what to think.”

  He slowed. “I do. Dad’s completely lost it. All those years of drinking finally caught up with him.”

  “Your dad hasn’t had a drink in over fifteen years.”

  He opened the car door for her. Why was Becky being so stubborn? “I’m sorry I brought it up, but you have to admit that Dad’s theory on the pregnancy crisis is a little far-fetched.” He rubbed the back of his neck. Was something else on her mind? Once Becky was comfortable, he kissed her cheek.

  Her knuckles, curled around the handles of her purse, were white.

  Surely their conversation hadn’t made her that tense. “You hiding a wad of cash in there?” He tried to lighten the mood with a joke.

  Becky let out a tense laugh. “The contents of a lady’s purse are private.”

  Silence possessed the next few minutes as Houston maneuvered them along local streets to the divided highway. He eased his way back to the topic at hand. “I don’t think we’ll ever reach a consensus. I am in complete agreement with the doctor. Joe thinks Dad will be fine without medication, and Cindy’s in the middle—at least according to Travis.”

  “Do we have to decide this tonight?” Becky took off her glasses and rubbed her nose.

  “We’re going to have to make a decision sooner or later.”

  Becky turned the radio on. Classical music filled the car. “Let’s sleep on it. Maybe tomorrow you can speak directly with Cindy and see what she thinks.”

  Houston nodded and dropped the subject. They traveled the next several miles absorbed in their individual thoughts. As they passed Castalgia’s restaurant, his grip on the wheel tightened. Vinnie Fernandez. The mere thought of the man raised his blood pressure.

  He slowed the car, unconsciously scanning the parking lot. A familiar truck caused his heart to skip a beat. Travis’s truck has that same bumper sticker on the rear fender. “That’s strange.”

  “What?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “I think I just spotted Travis’s truck parked outside Castalgia’s.”

  “I thought you said he had a meeting with a client. Could that be where they’re meeting?”

  “That’s not a typical meeting place. At least not for the type of meeting Travis would be having.”

  “I’m not sure I’m following you.”

  “Vinnie Fernandez owns that restaurant. We’ve been investigating him for years, but every time I accumulate enough evidence to go before a judge, something mysterious happens and the case dissolves.” Houston waved a hand in the air.

  Becky pointed her fingers at Houston as though they were pistols. “Are they the Mafia?” she joked.

  Houston didn’t respond, and the silence grew.

  “Okay, now you have me worried. You don’t think Travis is involved in something illegal, do you?”

  “No. Of course not. I’m just tired. It probably wasn’t even his truck. If it would make you feel better we can turn around and I’ll double-check.”

  “I think we’re both a little overtired. Let’s just go home, have dinner, and go to bed.”

  “I like the sound of that. Especially the bed part.” He winked.

  She laughed. “I thought you were tired.”

  “You know me, honey, I’m never too tired.” Houston let out a sigh. Although the conversation hadn’t erupted into an argument, Becky’s behavior troubled him. He couldn’t shake the feeling she was keeping something from him.

  * * *

  Travis leaned back in the booth and pushed his empty plate to the side. One carafe of wine, a thoroughly delicious meal, and polite conversation. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d experienced such a relaxing dinner. Perhaps Vinnie’s reputation was built on nothing more than vicious rhetoric.

  After the waiter cleared their plates and left, Travis grabbed the portfolio from the seat next to him. He placed the folder on the table and slid it across to Vinnie.

  “I see you’re ready to talk business.”

  “Yes, sir. I’ve prepared a proposal for your review.”

  Vinnie’s gaze flicked to the file before returning to Travis. “I don’t need a written proposal. Tell me how much you need, and I’ll arrange it.”

  Warning bells went off in Travis’s head. Although his friend John had referred him to Vinnie, Travis’s own research had turned up mixed reviews. Houston swore the man was the devil, but he’d never been convicted of a crime. When he checked back with John, he waved it off and said people always spoke poorly of rich, powerful men because they’re jealous. Travis had never paid much attention to the gossip, but now he wished he had.

  “I’m looking for a short-term loan to help me pay off debt and meet payroll for the next few months. A supplier went belly-up and left me with a lot of unpaid bills and projects I still need to finish.”

  Vinnie took a sip of his wine. “That doesn’t sound like good business to me. I would never allow someone to leave their obligations unfulfilled. What are you doing to rectify the situation?”

  “I’m not sure there’s anything I can do. He went out of business. He was a close friend, but now he won’t even return my phone calls.” Travis drummed his fingers on the table. “My attorney said it would be tied up in court for years. I can’t afford that.”

  “Travis, I like you. Because I like you, I’m going to give you a little business advice. Pay attention, because this is something you can’t learn at a fancy university like Harvard or
Oxford. Over the years, I’ve found that when I extend a little courtesy to someone, they take advantage of me. In order to prevent this, I’ve had to develop some stalwart business policies.”

  Travis swallowed the tumbleweed of doubt rising in his throat. “I had penalty terms in place, but they’re no good if the other party refuses to acknowledge them.”

  Vinnie sneered. “When I make a business deal, the other party fulfills their obligation or faces the consequences. Sometimes these consequences aren’t so pleasant, but I’ve found they’re very effective.”

  Travis’s heart pounded. Houston was right. He was the devil. There was no way he could ask Vinnie for a loan. “I’m sorry, Mr. Fernandez. I’m afraid I may have wasted your time. Thank you for meeting with me, but I think I’ll look over some different options for a business loan.”

  Vinnie’s right cheek twitched. He pushed the file back to Travis. “I think I understand you, Travis, my boy. But before you leave, let’s get a few things straight. Number one, I don’t like having my time wasted. Number two, if I find out you’ve disclosed any part of this meeting to anyone, I’ll be extremely disappointed. I don’t tolerate betrayals of any type. Are we clear?”

  “I would never even think of betraying your confidence.” Travis fumbled over his words. He grabbed the proposal and stumbled out of the booth, and his first several steps were unsteady from the wine. He needed to sober up before he left. Instead of heading toward the door, he walked to the bathrooms at the back of the restaurant.

  Vinnie followed close on Travis’s heels. “If you change your mind, Travis, you know where to find me.”

  Vinnie’s laughter followed Travis down the hallway. Travis entered the men’s room and splashed cold water on his face. What am I doing? I have to get out of here. When he left the restroom, he turned toward the red exit sign at the end of the hall.

  As he burst through the door, the cool night air rushed over him. He took in a deep breath and slowly let it out. The relief was fleeting. He still had four kids to support, a mountain of debt, and a failing business. He sprinted down the dim alley, around the only vehicle, a white cargo van parked at the end, and rounded the corner to the parking lot at the front of the restaurant.

  The space where he’d parked his truck was empty. He pulled out his key fob and hit the unlock button. Nothing. Where was his truck?

  He pulled out his cell phone. Six missed six calls—all from Cindy. But he couldn’t call her back. Not until he figured out what had happened to his truck.

  He pressed the alarm button on the fob, maybe it was parked nearby. Silence. His cell phone chimed to indicate he had received an email.

  To: Travis Montgomery

  Re: Notice of Redemption and an Affidavit of Defense.

  He swiped a finger across the screen to pull up the full message. It described the year, make, and model of his truck and what he needed to do to get it back. Travis swore under his breath. What now? Cindy’s Land Rover was sure to be next on their list.

  He looked over his shoulder at the restaurant. Maybe he should go back and strike a deal after all. He’d probably have his truck back first thing in the morning. He’d be able to make payroll and start turning his personal finances around. No! I will not make a deal with the devil.

  He walked the length of the parking lot, ignoring the heavy feeling in his chest. His choices were to fess up to Cindy or turn around and make the deal. Both left him with a pit in his stomach that wasn’t from the effect of the wine.

  He needed to make his decision with a clear head. He called for a taxi and waited in the far corner of the parking lot for it to arrive. On the ride home, he mulled over his options. Cindy would be so disappointed; he couldn’t let her down. But did he really want to be under Vinnie’s thumb?

  When the cabbie parked in the driveway, Travis paid the fare and shuffled to the front door. It opened before he had a chance to put his key in.

  “Where have you been?”

  “Can we take this inside? I’d rather the neighbors not hear us arguing.”

  Cindy turned around and stomped through the living room and into Travis’s office. “I tried calling you several times. You had me worried. Where were you?”

  “I told you I had a business meeting.” Travis shut the door, walked around the large cherry desk, and dropped into the black leather chair. He gestured for Cindy to sit across from him.

  “I’m too upset to sit.” She paced the width of the office. “Why did you take a cab home? Have you been drinking?”

  “I had some wine with dinner.”

  “So you left your truck at the restaurant?”

  Travis met Cindy’s glare. Trepidation filled her eyes, and her expression radiated a mixture of anger and concern. He longed to hold her and reassure her that everything would be okay. Maybe he could talk with a few more banks and see if something would work out. “I don’t want to argue. Not tonight. Let’s call a truce.”

  Cindy crossed her arms over her chest. “We’re far from a truce, Travis. I know you’re tired, but that doesn’t let you off the hook. The least you could have done was call and let me know you were running late. We have things we need to talk about.”

  He stiffened. “What’s so important that it can’t wait until tomorrow?”

  Cindy’s expression softened. She was almost beaming as she rubbed the slight expanse on her belly. “I’m pregnant. We’re going to have a baby.”

  The joy on her face only fueled his anger. “You’ve got to be kidding!”

  Cindy frowned. “Not exactly the reaction I expected.”

  He spun the Montblanc pen on his desk. “How could something like this happen?”

  Cindy smiled. “I would think you’d have figured that out by now.”

  “You know what I mean. I had surgery so this would never happen again.” He waved his hand in the air. “How can you be pregnant?”

  “Just what are in insinuating, Travis?” Her eyes darkened. “Are you accusing me of having an affair? Just when would I have time for that?” Her volume grew with each question she threw back at him.

  “I don’t know what I’m saying. I just know I paid the doctor a lot of money to prevent this from happening.” He leaned back as far as the chair would go. “When did this happen? Are you absolutely sure? You’re telling me in the middle of a nationwide pregnancy crisis you’re pregnant … after I’ve had a vasectomy?”

  Cindy ran her hand over her belly. “I’ve been in denial for some time. I just took the test yesterday morning. If my calculations are correct, I’m way past my first trimester.”

  Travis rubbed the stubble across his jawline. “Have you been to the doctor yet? Those home tests can be wrong.”

  She pulled her shirt tight and showed him her profile. “That doesn’t explain my growing belly. And don’t go placing all the blame on me, Travis. After your vasectomy, the doctor left you several messages asking you to come back in for a final check. If I remember correctly, you never went.”

  His temples throbbed. How in the world could he support another child? He took a deep breath. “I can’t talk about this tonight. I’m going to bed.”

  “We’re going to have to talk about it sometime. We have a lot of things we need to decide.”

  “We’ll talk later.” Taking the stairs two at a time, he reached the top floor and walked down the hall. He didn’t even stop to check in on the kids. He went straight to the master bathroom. Maybe a hot shower would clear his mind. He needed to come up with a plan. If he didn’t, he’d lose everything.

  Chapter Six

  Dominique ran her hand along the side of the smooth, mahogany table, enjoying the quiet atmosphere of the restaurant after a long, hard day.

  “Are you a Christian, Dominique?” Joe asked.

  Her hand stopped with a glass mid-way to her mouth. Where had that question come from? But, deep inside, she had known the question would come up. He’d not made a secret of his faith. Now the dreaded question hung in the air.<
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  She didn’t want to discuss religion, or Jesus, or anything spiritual with anyone. She knew what God had against her. It was unforgivable. She knew the popular Christian lingo. Her mother had hounded her long enough that she had all of the correct responses memorized. She could get away with lying. But the guilt of pretending to be a licensed social worker hounded her enough. Lying about her faith, or lack thereof, was a different story.

  No, she couldn’t lie to him, not about this. “Let’s just put it this way: I have a mother who’s a religious fanatic, so I’m not sure what that makes me.”

  Joe burst out laughing. “I take it you’ve been asked this question before.”

  “Yes, and to be honest, I never quite know how to answer it. I believe Jesus existed. Does that make me a Christian? I don’t know, Joe. I guess I’m not a very religious person.”

  Joe pushed his plate to the center of the table. “I’m sorry, Dominique, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. My relationship with Christ is a large part of my life, but I don’t consider myself a religious person either.”

  “Now you have me confused.” Weren’t all Christians religious?

  “Religion is a strict set of rules and regulations. Being a Christian is about your relationship with Christ. In the book of John, he tells you the truth, and I believe him.”

  “You make it sound so simple. My mom usually gives me a laundry list of what I’m doing wrong and how I should change.”

  “That’s religion at its best— ” The ring of his cell phone cut off the rest of his words.

  “You’d better get that. It could be the hospital.” Guilt stabbed at her. He didn’t deserve to be toyed with. She should end this relationship before it began. She should never have accepted his invitation in the first place.

  The candlelight hit Joe just right as he rose while pulling out his cell phone. It bounced shadows across his handsome face before he walked to the lobby.

  But how could she resist someone so handsome and kind?

  The waitress stopped next to Dominique and set a leather case containing the bill in the middle of the table. Joe returned just as the woman returned. “I’m sorry about that. Interruptions are part of the job.”