He chuckled. “Yes. I have a special dispensation.” He winked.
“Oh.” A date? With him? Not a good idea for so many reasons. “I’m not looking for a relationship,” she stated firmly.
He looked relieved. “Neither am I.”
So it wasn’t a date. A burst of irritation surprised her.
“How about if we meet at the cinema,” he continued. “Then it’s just two new friends watching the same movie. Not a date.”
Pushing aside her unsettling annoyance, she nodded, thankful he’d come up with a doable plan. “That would work. I’ll meet you there for the last matinee. I think Ross and Kelly will watch Aidan for me. Could we go see that new thriller everyone has been talking about?”
He grinned. “That’s funny. That’s exactly what I was thinking.”
A little shiver tripped down her spine. Was it coincidence or were they really in tune with each other? She wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer to that question.
As Trista pushed Aidan in the stroller back to her apartment, she couldn’t believe she’d agreed to meet a pastor at the movies. Ross was going to laugh until he cried. She’d just have to convince her big brother this was not a date.
Lynda Matthews pulled into the driveway of their large new mansion on the outskirts of town. She couldn’t park in the garage because of her husband’s many cars. Douglas collected vintage roadsters. Just one of many expensive passions.
Like the house. It was too big, showy and a bit garish. Lots of brick and columns and shiny accoutrements that screamed “look at me.” She didn’t like the place, but Douglas had insisted they buy the house when they relocated to town.
It was his money, as he loved to remind her, so she had no say in the matter.
“Come on, honey,” she said to Logan. “Let’s go see if Kay has made something delicious for lunch.”
The inside of the house was just as overdone as the outside. Cold marble flooring, a round marble table with an expensive vase filled with exotic flowers greeted them as they entered. Sometimes Lynda felt as if she were walking into a hotel rather than a home.
She took off her warm wool coat and then helped Logan out of his parka. She laid both on the table.
“Where have you been?”
Lynda froze at her husband’s question. Then with a quick sweep of her hand, she pulled Logan behind her as she turned to face Douglas.
He stood in the doorway of the library off to her right. His six-foot-one frame filled the opening. He still wore the expensive navy suit he’d worn for his TV show Afternoons with Douglas Matthews. He was a handsome man with his jet-black hair and piercing blue eyes. The camera and his fans loved him. At one time, Lynda had, as well.
“We went to story time at the new bookstore downtown,” she answered quietly.
He raised his eyebrows as anger sparked in his eyes. “You went out in public like that?” He made a sweeping gesture with his hand.
She stiffened, expecting him to berate her for showing her face in public. Showing his shame in public.
“You know how important image is. You’re my wife and I expect you to dress the part.”
Of course, her clothing was his main concern. She’d thought her trendy yet conservative long skirt and blouse were very pretty.
“And it wouldn’t have hurt to put a little more makeup on that eye,” he added.
“I’m sorry. I should have thought it through better.”
His expression relaxed slightly. “Yes, you should have. Logan, come out from behind your mother’s skirt.”
Logan tugged at her and Lynda’s heart squeezed tight. She wanted to protect her son from Douglas’s criticism, yet she knew if they defied him, criticism would be the least of her worries. She grasped Logan’s hand, giving him a reassuring squeeze as she gently pulled him forward, but keeping him within arm’s reach.
Douglas had never raised a hand to Logan, but Lynda still wanted Logan close enough that she could shield him if necessary.
Logan looked so much like his father. The same black hair and stunning eyes, but he had Lynda’s disposition, much to Douglas’s annoyance.
“Son, did you enjoy the story hour?”
Logan nodded.
“Speak up,” Douglas snapped.
“Yes, sir, I did.”
Douglas bestowed one of his charming smiles on his son. “Good. It is important to be seen in town at functions that promote learning.”
Good for your image, Lynda thought but knew better than to put voice to her sarcasm.
“Will you be having lunch with us?” she asked.
He waved away her question. “No. I’m having lunch at the country club with Helene and Neal Harcourt. They’ve been big supporters of my show.”
Relief swept over her like a cool breeze. “Very well then. We won’t keep you. Come, Logan, let’s find Kay.”
As they went in search of the housekeeper-cook, Lynda could feel her husband’s gaze on her back. She stuck her hand in the pocket of her skirt and fingered the edges of Trista Van Zandt’s card.
Tomorrow she would call her.
That night at her brother’s house, Trista watched with wry amusement as Ross laughed until his eyes watered.
“You’re going…out with Pastor Scott?” Ross asked for the umpteenth time.
“We’re not going ‘out.’ We’re meeting at the movies. There’ll be a big group of people there.”
“Group?” Kelly exclaimed. “You joined The Kingdom Room, didn’t you?”
Sheepishly, Trista nodded.
At Ross’s questioning look, Kelly explained. “It’s an online single friends group that Naomi started.”
“I think that’s great!” he managed to say between guffaws.
“Then why are you crying?” Trista asked, drily.
Kelly reached across Aidan to squeeze Trista’s hand. “Don’t mind him. We think it’s great.” Kelly gave Ross a pointed look before turning her gaze back to Trista. “Scott is a very nice man.”
“Nice, as in wimp or nice, as in well mannered?” Trista teased.
Kelly grinned. “Definitely well mannered. I can’t say about the other.”
Trista shrugged. “It doesn’t matter either way. This is just two friends seeing the same movie. It’s not going anywhere.”
Ross wiped at his eyes. “Never say never.” He gazed adoringly at his wife.
Something akin to envy twisted in Trista’s heart. Her brother and Kelly truly loved one another. Their union had come with a price, though.
Kelly’s biological mother, Sandra Lange, had hired Ross as a private investigator to find the daughter she’d given up for adoption. Ross had found Kelly but also had uncovered a web of deceit that her biological father’s wife had woven over the years. The fallout had been steep. Sandra had ended up in the hospital in a coma and Kelly’s biological father, Gerald Morrow, then the mayor of Chestnut Grove, helped to bring his wife to justice.
“So, will you be able to watch Aidan for me?”
Ross sobered. “Yes, on one condition. You come to church with us in the morning and then go see Mom with me.”
Trista