The rest of the month was a blur of exciting dates with Blair. Dominique had so much fun that she nearly forgot she had ever been bored and lonely. They went motorcycle riding, fishing, dancing, bicycling, and hang-gliding. Sometimes they just hung out together, enjoying each other’s company. Whatever they did, Dominique was happy to be with Blair. He was always courteous, considerate, and exciting. The attraction between them sizzled, but they never went past the sumptuous kisses and he never indicated he wanted more. Dominique said nothing, but it grew to be a sensitive point. Blair Thomas was haunting her dreams.
Dominique didn’t know when it started, but her efficiency began to slip. The missed meetings and appointments here and there began to add up, and the reasons behind them varied from forgetfulness and stress to being ill. For so long, her efficiency had generated success and been the constant in her life. Now she couldn’t count on anything.
She was having the time of her life on a personal level, but she’d begun to get worry headaches that incapacitated her. Blair had shaken up her ordered life and she wasn’t sure it was a good thing. She was falling in love with him. The man was perfect for her, but she suspected that she was just a pleasant way for him to pass the time in Red Oaks.
Sitting with the choir in church one Sunday, she was called to the podium to give the chair reports. Somehow she muddled through. And when they asked for a chairman and volunteers for the Women’s Day program, her temples pounded so hard that she couldn’t even think of volunteering. Before she left church, she heard the whispers and rumors starting back up, and this time they hurt twice as much. She was making a fool out of herself again.
While in a ladies’ bathroom stall, she heard Cissy Slade tell her sister that Blair was dating Dominique in return for the Winston Bank endorsement, and that Dominique’s parents were worried that she was going to have a nervous breakdown when Blair left town. Both women laughed.
Dominique was so hurt and angry that she nearly threw the stall door open right then to confront the women.
Instead, she finished her business and then exited the stall with her head high. The women had already left.
In the mirror, she saw her eyes were red and her nose had a pinkish tint. She was upset and it showed. What hurt most was the grain of truth that resonated in her thoughts. Though she hated to admit it, she did have some doubt about Blair’s feelings for her. She splashed her face with cold water and patted it dry with a paper towel.
Always thoughtful and charming, Blair was waiting to walk her to her car, and he reminded her of their plans for the evening. She wanted to be with him, but physically she wasn’t up to it. With her head pounding, Dominique could barely speak. Her stomach gurgled nervously. She slumped forward. “Blair,” she managed, “I’m not feeling well. I’m going home to get in the bed.”
Concerned for her, he insisted on driving her home. Once there, he took off her shoes and jacket and put her to bed. While she slept, he made chicken noodle soup from scratch.
Blair brought a tray with a bowl and crackers into her room and sat with her while she ate. The soup was delicious and full of chicken, carrots, onion, noodles, and a flavorful broth.
“You’re spoiling me,” she said, thanking him for taking care of her.
“You deserve to be spoiled,” he said, caressing her cheek. “I’m worried about you. Maybe you should see a doctor.”
“I’m okay,” she insisted. “I’ve been a little stressed lately. I just need to get more rest.”
“I’m going to do everything I can to make sure you do,” he said. Then he sat and talked with her until she fell back asleep.
As soon as Dominique was asleep, Blair ate a bowl of the soup and put the rest in the refrigerator. He didn’t like the heavy feeling he got in his chest when he saw Dominique lying around like a wilted flower. He knew he cared for her a lot and didn’t want to think about how much. He wished he had been able to persuade Dominique to go to the doctor. Her symptoms closely resembled those of a friend who had sunk into depression.
Checking on Dominique one last time, he kissed her cheek. Then he went into the kitchen and called Scooter to pick him up.
When his friend’s car pulled up, Blair closed Dominique’s door and headed outside.
“I didn’t know what to think when I saw your car still in the parking lot after church,” Scooter said as Blair got in, shut the door, and fastened the seatbelt.
“Dominique wasn’t feeling well, so I drove her home.”
Scooter’s gaze pierced him to the bone. “There’s been a lot of gossip going around about you two. You’re not from here, so it doesn’t touch you, but she’s been taking a lot of heat,” he said, pulling off.
“I didn’t know,” Blair said honestly. “What can I do to help her?”
“That depends on you.” Scooter looked at him, looked away, and did it again. “How do you really feel about Dominique? Do you love her?”
“It’s too soon for that,” Blair said quickly.
“Do you think you could love her?”
“Of course. That’s why I like her so much, why I care about her.”
Scooter entered the freeway and changed lanes. “Look Blair, those of us who love Dominique are beginning to worry. She hasn’t been herself. I look at her and see her going down the same path she traveled with that creep she married. I know you like her, but I’ve seen you walk away from women that I could have sworn you loved. Are you going to walk away from Dominique?”
“Yeah.” Blair’s hands balled into fists. He’d had a similar conversation with Mother Maybelle before church started. “Dominique knows that I’m leaving.”
“Does she? If I were Dominique, I’d find your behavior confusing. You see her almost every day.”
Blair slammed his fist against the seat. “Why shouldn’t I? We enjoy each other’s company and we’re both adults.”
Scooter pulled over to the side of the road. “You’re not sleeping with her?”
“No, not that’s it’s any of your business,” Blair snapped.
Scooter’s eyes sparked and stuck out. Blair hadn’t seen this side of Scooter in years. The man was furious. “If you were, you’d have to go, and I’d kick your ass to kingdom come.”
If it came to violence, Blair knew he could hold his own, but he didn’t want to fight his friend, especially over Dominique. He felt frustrated. His hometown had been more liberal. He wasn’t used to living in the small community of Red Oaks and having every move scrutinized. Hurting Dominique was the last thing on his mind. “Look man, chill. I’ve been holding back on purpose. I’m not at a place in my life where I can even consider marrying anyone.”
“Tell Dominique that,” Scooter said, working the car back into traffic.
After a difficult appointment where Dominique and her accountant audited the books of one of the town’s oldest department stores, Dominique was elated when Blair called and asked her to lunch. She needed a pick-me-up, and seeing Blair always lifted her spirits.
He waited for her outside the department store and drove her to the restaurant. She was still so wrapped up in what had come out during the audit, that she initially failed to notice the change in Blair.
Sitting across from him in a booth at Paradiso, a Mexican restaurant, she didn’t know what to think. Blair was so deep into himself that he wasn’t really there with her. Minutes went by when nothing was said. Dominique had never seen him like this. She tried to draw him into the moment by asking questions, but his short answers required little thought.
She ordered taco salad and a glass of sangria, noting that he opted for nachos and coffee.
“Blair, what’s the matter?” she asked finally. “You seem distracted. Is there a problem? You can tell me anything.”
He studied her, his eyes telling her that he needed her statement to be true. “You know I’ve been worried about you,” he began.
“I’ll be fine,” she said quickly. “I’ve had a few headaches, but I’m taking better care of myself.”
“I know there’s been a lot of gossip about us. The last thing I want is for you to get hurt by it.”
She shrugged with a casualness she didn’t really feel. She wondered if she was about to be dumped for her own good. “I’m a big girl. I can handle it. Is there something else?”
“Yes.” He reached out to clasp her hand. “Dominique, I like you a lot. I think you know that.”
“Yes, I do.” She gave him a reassuring smile. “I like you a lot, too.”
He didn’t seem reassured. The warm affection she was used to seeing in his gaze was missing and so was the easy flow of his conversation. Dominique held her breath and waited.
“Remember the picnic?” he continued. “When I told you where I was in my life? How I’m not ready to settle down?”
Moistening her dry lips, she leaned forward. “I remember.”
He rubbed the space between his brows and stumbled through his words. “Well I, um, wanted you to know that it’s still true. I’m not ready to marry anyone, and I don’t want to lead you on.”
Removing her hand from his, Dominique set her back straight against the cushioned booth. Blair hadn’t led her on, but until he’d actually repeated what he’d told her at the picnic, she’d been hoping deep inside that he’d fall in love with her and want to marry her. When had she become so naive?
Her gaze locked with his. He sat across from her, waiting uncomfortably for her response. She expelled the air from her lungs with a loud sigh. Then she laughed out loud. “You haven’t led me on. I’m not expecting you to suddenly declare your undying love and marry me,” she lied. “And for the record, I haven’t asked you to marry me, either.”
He ran a hand over his eyes and sighed. Then he chuckled, too.
“What brought this on?” she asked.
He shrugged. “This is a close-knit community. The people who love you are worried about you.”
She shot him an incredulous look. “Did my parents—”
“No.” He reached across the table to gently massage her hand. “Your parents had nothing to do with this.”
“Then who?” She glanced up as the waitress placed her sangria and salad, and Blair’s nachos, on the table.
“Does it matter who?” Blair asked when their server was gone.
“I guess not.” Dominique sipped her sangria and suspected Mother Maybelle and Reverend Avery, maybe even Deacon Jones. Her initial anger dissipated. Someone had made sure she got a wake up call. They’d done her a favor because what she’d suspected all along was true. She was just something pleasant for Blair to do while he was in town.
Now that he’d cleared things up with her, Blair relaxed and put in an order for his usual beef and cheese enchiladas.
Dominique ate the food she usually loved without tasting it. Focusing on Blair’s handsome face, she wondered what it took to really touch his heart, to earn his love. She managed to laugh and joke with him like always, but deep inside she knew that things would never be the same between them.
When Blair drove her to her car, she leaned across the seat and pressed her mouth to his in the deep, heartfelt kiss she’d been dreaming about. She threaded her fingers through his soft hair, caressed his face, and tangled her tongue with his. He groaned and his heart pounded beneath her fingers. Behind her closed lids, she savored all that he was and told herself that the love, the warmth, and the happiness she felt with him were temporary. He wasn’t really hers and would never be.
She turned to gather her purse and briefcase when the kiss ended. Blair came around and opened her door. He helped her out and stood there, suddenly reluctant to let go of her hand.
“I’ll see you later,” she said as she gently tugged her hand from his.
Blair hovered. “I’ll call you.”
“Okay,” she agreed, certain that he wouldn’t and not sure how she would react if he did. She opened her car door and climbed in. He stared as she closed the door, clicked the seatbelt, and started the engine.
Driving home, Dominique went over all her business appointments in her head and all the things that required some action on her part. She had a lot to do. Inside her condo she cleaned the kitchen and bathroom to keep her mind off Blair.
It wasn’t until she sat at the table, alone with her glass of wine, that the first tear fell and hit her linen placemat. Dominique slumped forward on the table and cried.
She was angry with herself for being naïve enough to fall in love with Blair and hurt that he didn’t have the good sense to love her back. She wasn’t headed for the public humiliation she’d had with her ex-husband, but the pain in her heart overwhelmed her.
When the telephone rang, she checked the caller ID display and saw the name “Jones.” Dominique’s throat clogged up at the thought of talking to Blair. With her shoulders straight, she turned off the ringer and headed into her bedroom.