Page 4 of Evan

Chapter 2

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Is that going to be the sum total of our conversation?” Jerry asked wryly, mopping his sweaty face with a large white cooling towel that had been made available for the members and their guests at the end of the tennis game because Evan Davenport mopped the floor with him.

The man had played as if he was being chased by a demon, a very persistent one. The man was sprawled in the chaise lounge, barely winded, a brooding expression on his face.

“I thought we already had our conversation on the court.” Amusement tinged his silvery gray eyes as he stared at his friend. “And you are as red as a beet and sweating like a pig.”

“Thanks for that, by the way.” His friend grabbed a glass of freshly squeezed lemonade and took several large gulps. “What on earth is bugging you anyway? If I drop dead of a heart attack, you would only have yourself to blame.”

“You need to work out more.” Reaching for his own lemonade, Evan took a sip. “You have packed on a few pounds around the middle.”

“Oh, just shut up.” Taking another sip of his drink, Jerry glanced at his friend, concern evident on his broad attractive face. “It’s that article, isn’t it?”

“What article?” Evan’s face was expressionless even though his heart was racing with anger and frustration.

He could not get a break. Whenever it seemed as if the public was focused on something other than his family’s history, something would stir it up again. He had been trying ever since he took over as CEO of Davenport Industries to quell the nasty rumors, but he seemed to be going backwards.

His head of PR had suggested something, and he was using the weekend to mull it over. It seemed ridiculous and extreme and downright immoral, but he was at his wit’s end.

“I am your friend…”

“I know.” Evan assured him quietly. “And I am dealing with it.”

“The entire thing is so unfair.”

“Is it?” With a shrug, Evan put away his glass and ignored the tiny sandwiches that had also been provided. It was the middle of August and the heat; the humidity was making itself obvious.

The Elite Club was humming with various activities at this time of year. There were sounds of laughter and people splashing in the nearby pools. A hectic game of basketball was being played to the sound of strains of classical music playing over the surrounding sounds.

Dragging his fingers through his tangled and slightly damp ink black hair, he tilted his head back and closed his eyes. He was tired, not just physically, but emotionally as well. He was followed by the press constantly and was so sick and tired of the publicity that he was tempted to just disappear.

But he had until tomorrow to try and figure out if what he had been advised to do was a good idea. Today, he just wanted to have some fun, exert some energy and forget about the quandary he was involved in.

If it was just him, he would weather it, brush it away until it went away, but it involved his company and the nasty rumors, conjectures could not be ignored. It bothered him a lot. He had cleaned up his ‘act’ as a result and had been without female companionship for almost six weeks. It was getting to him.

“What will you do?” His friend’s voice filtered through his mind and interrupted his thoughts.

“For now, I am going to enjoy the lovely weekend and participate in as many games as I can. You up for another round?”

“Not a chance buddy. I am wiped out.”

“Catch you later.” Pushing himself out of the chair, Evan finished his drink and picked up his racket.

*****

“Pastor William! Hi.” Dragging off her gardening gloves, she rose in surprise. Despite the plan to laze the morning away and stay in bed for most of the morning, her mental clock had kicked in at precisely six as it always did. She had stayed in bed for another half an hour, before getting up.

She had attacked her laundry first and foremost, because it was her least favorite chore and then cleaned the place from crevice to corner. Breakfast had been a bagel and coffee and leaving the clothes in the dryer, she had decided to take care of her favorite pastime. Gardening.

“I hope I am not disturbing you. It is your day off…”

“You can never disturb me.” Taking off the straw hat, she dumped it along with her gloves on a bench next to the rose bush she had been tending.

“And it’s time for a break,” she declared, brushing her hands over the khaki knee length capri she had donned for the job.

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