No Turning Back (The Traveler) Page 2

  Taylor eyed the small black gadget and told him, “Gary, you’re insane. Don’t let that fancy phone get you into trouble.”

  “It’s too late for that, dude,” Gary commented. He never seemed to run out of incredible stories to tell. He said, “That’s why you’re jealous of me now—I do the things that you only think about.”

  He looked at his watch and said, “Now, let’s go open my store. It’s ten of ten already. My guys are there waiting for us.”

  Chapter 2

  In the Kentucky state capital of Frankfort, Gabrielle Stevens perused a brunch buffet bar inside of a large conference room at the Civic Center. Dressed in a navy blue business suit with matching heels, she moved past the scrambled eggs, seasoned potatoes and cooked ham to collect a few strips of bacon and a blueberry muffin. Maintaining a superb physique in her forties, Gabrielle preferred to eat light over heavy. And while surrounded at a well-attended event of politicians, social climbers and do-gooders, lustful eyes followed her every move.

  “Hey, Gabby, how’s that precocious son of yours doing?”

  She turned and faced Carl Feldman, who had been admiring her figure from across the room. Carl was a well-respected attorney, tall with broad shoulders in a dark, pinstriped suit and a solid royal blue tie. In his mid-fifties, his brown hair was just beginning to turn gray at the temples. He could no longer conquer the obvious signs of time, but after a recent divorce from his second wife, the man was still vibrant.

  Gabrielle acknowledged his presence and his question with a pause, while munching down her blueberry muffin. She swallowed her food and cleared her throat to speak.

  “He’s fine. You know, he’s just doing what he does.”

  Carl observed her patiently as she wiped her mouth with a napkin. He assumed she was slightly embarrassed at being caught with her mouth full. He enjoyed that he had caught her off guard, anything that would ruffle her impeccable feathers. He figured an unraveled woman would be more vulnerable, particularly to a striking professional and an old tiger.

  “Is he headed back to school any time soon?” he asked of her son. That was a more arduous question.

  Gabrielle squirmed to negotiate her answer. “Well, you know, Carl, school is not everyone’s cup of tea. And I didn’t feel comfortable trying to force it on him anymore.”

  She had returned to school late in life to finish her own degree in political science before moving into public service in her thirties.

  “I heard he opened a record store downtown,” Carl mentioned. Obviously, he knew more than Gabrielle was comfortable with. Carl was a discriminating man who would engage friends and foes alike with his acquired facts about them, as if they were all in a public courtroom. That served to put everyone on the defensive when he bothered to speak to them.

  There was another pause before Gabrielle answered. She felt she was being interrogated. “Yeah, he’s downtown in the revitalized corridor of Fourth Street. That counts for something, right?”

  Carl conceded as much with an easy grin and a nod. “Well, if he can manage to hold on to it long enough, it just might pay off for him when Louisville finishes redeveloping downtown. But that’s property you secured for him, am I right?”

  His probing inquiries were beginning to aggravate her. Men like Carl weren’t subtle about their ulterior motives. But what were his motives?

  Gabrielle studied the attorney’s posture and asked him, “Would you rather I not help my son to pursue his interests? I’m only doing what any supportive parent would do for their child.”

  Carl shrugged. “Yeah, I guess if the average parent could afford it.”

  He marveled at how Gabrielle was able to stretch her income. She had seemingly worked miracles through her lobbying position. And suddenly, Carl’s wantonness had transformed into curiosity and envy. How could a single mother with no known divorce settlement afford to compete so impressively with the big boys? She and her son had also resided in Louisville’s affluent east side neighborhood of St. Matthews. So Carl assumed she had some serious connections working for her.

  Finally, Gabrielle asked him, “What exactly are you trying to get at, Carl? How could we afford it? Well, let’s see. If I have only one child, and he doesn’t finish school—an education that I’ve saved up for—then obviously, we’d have something left over for him to use in whatever way he chooses. But instead of you being so concerned about me and my son, I would advise you to save your energy to think about your own three kids. They aren’t exactly setting the world on fire these days themselves!”

  “Asshole,” she huffed as she walked away.

  That’s exactly why his second wife left him. He’s so damned belligerent! she thought.

  “What was that all about?” asked Anne Carthon, a longtime friend and associate in Louisville politics. She was slightly older than Gabrielle and had been involved in Kentucky politics a few years longer. Wearing a deep-purple suit with a white blouse, Anne had witnessed her friend’s striding from across the room.

  Gabrielle shook her question off. “It’s just your typical damaged male ego, that’s all. He’s in here trying to find someone to piss on this morning, but I pissed back.”

  Anne grinned and nodded. She was very familiar with Carl’s contentious reputation as well as with Gabby’s fire. They were equally matched, enough to cause fireworks.

  However, as Gabrielle took her seat in the crowded room to listen to the introductions of speakers, Carl Feldman’s unexpected scrutiny forced her to reflect, with honesty, on how she had been able to bankroll her son’s exorbitant preoccupations. Her voyeuristic child was physically gifted but emotionally adrift. Although he had not been raised in a typical blue blood family, Gabrielle made it possible for her son to experience everything from polo, skiing, rafting, karate, bungee jumping, surfing and skydiving. He had raced horses, mini stock cars, ski boats and had taken private lessons in tennis, golf, fencing and chess. About the only sport he stuck to was lacrosse. At sixteen, he nearly quit that, deciding instead to start his own recording band, collecting drum sets, guitars, keyboards and mixer equipment, only to sell it all to friends, musicians and pawn shops before going off to college.

  However, his high school lacrosse coach wouldn’t give up on his star player, even with Gary regularly missing practices. And with the coach’s recommendations, Gabrielle pulled a few strings and had her wandering son in line to receive a lacrosse scholarship to attend Duke University. Gary’s high school grades were only average, but his above average SAT scores suggested much more potential. But after studying liberal arts for a year, with no serious dedication to lacrosse or academics, Gary walked away from Duke, then Louisville, and now appeared to be a directionless collage of idle talents. He was all potential with no delivery.

  Maybe I have overdone it, Gabrielle considered. Maybe she should have restricted her son to commit to one interest. So she wondered how long his downtown record store would last herself.

  As the speakers continued to address the crowd about their state’s health policies, she began to question every objectionable opinion about her son.

  Carl might be right … and a bunch of other folks, Gabrielle admitted. I need to put my foot down with Gary.

  Her family members back home in Tennessee had been concerned about her son’s development from early on. They wanted Gabby to be much more than just firm with him. They wanted her to give her son a normal family household. They wanted her to settle down, get married, and have more kids. Either that or tell her only child the truth about his absent father.

  Those candid family opinions—more than two decades ago—had led to a fierce argument that sent Gabrielle packing from Jackson, Tennessee, before her son was even born. So she settled down in Louisville, Kentucky, while six months pregnant, and she had never looked back.

  But can I ever tell him the truth about his father? she pondered.

  Maybe she should have gotten married and given her son a normal family. She was a grown and professional w
oman now. She remained unattached. She had never even thought much about marriage. She didn’t trust it.

  Gabrielle was amazed she had been able to hide the truth about her son’s father for so long. After a while, her son had stopped asking. All of her spoiling had been her way of placating his natural desire to have a steady father figure. So she had helped to create her own monster, and now the mold had hardened; it was too late for her to change him.

  Nevertheless, the anarchy had to stop. Gary was a full-grown man in desperate need of developmental maturity—the same maturity adults need to gain independence.

  So as soon as she received an extended break from her long day of events in Frankfort, Gabrielle decided to call her son and begin administering some tough love.

  Chapter 3

  Downtown 4th Street in Louisville, Gary boogied up the aisle of his Psychedelic Records store. Surround sound speakers pumped the thick bass line and the snapping percussion of a Canadian reggae song.

  “This song is hot, man. It sounds like something I would have come up with,” Gary told an early morning customer. The tall, young blonde grinned and fingered through the rack of country music CDs in front of her.

  “Umm, where can I buy one of those shirts?” she asked Gary of his tie-dyed tee.

  Gary stopped and asked her, “What, you want to work here? These shirts are for employees only, but …” He paused and thought about it. “How much would you pay for it?”

  She studied his colorful T-shirt and shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess twenty bucks.”

  Gary looked down at her perky breasts in a tight orange top. “Make it twenty-five, and I’ll give you a small that fits you just the way you like it.”

  The young woman grinned wider as she considered it. She reached for the straw summer bag that hung over her right shoulder. “All right.”

  Gary stood absentmindedly for a second before he realized what he had negotiated. He didn’t know if he had any shirts left, let alone a tight-fitting small.

  “Wow, you’re serious,” he responded.

  The young blonde nodded. “Yeah, I like it. It’s different.”

  A tall, curvaceous African-American woman standing in the next aisle overheard Gary’s banter with the blonde and shook her head with a grin. She was in her early thirties and an eyeful herself in black-and-white workout sweats from Nike. In fact, Taylor had been watching her from behind the register at the front of the store since the moment she had walked in. She had him captivated with her confident gait.

  Wow, she’s a knockout! I wonder if she dates younger guys, Taylor mused.

  She was aware of Taylor’s gaze, but her mind was focused on Gary at the moment.

  “Yeah, I told my friend that,” Gary said to the blonde. He was excited to hear her glowing opinions. “Do you like the curved Scooby Doo font for my company name too?”

  She laughed. “Yeah, I like everything about it.”

  That made Gary consider her breasts again. “I like your shirt too. Maybe I’ll use more orange next time.”

  The African-American woman laughed out loud. He’s a real piece of work, she thought of the young store owner.

  Taylor shook his head from behind the register. “Unbelievable,” he mumbled of his friend’s flirtations.

  The tall beauty reached the counter with a Mary J. Blige CD in hand. “Is he like that all the time with the ladies?” she asked Taylor curiously.

  He laughed. “I’m afraid so.” Then he noticed her. Her smooth auburn face looked very familiar. “Haven’t I seen you before at Louisville. In the weight room, right?”

  She smiled and nodded, displaying a deep dimple on her right cheek.

  “Yeah, I’ve worked out there a few times.”

  Taylor nodded back and rang up her purchase. He then checked out her biceps in her form-fitting shirt as he received her cash.

  Man, she’s ripped, he told himself. She must have played ball at some point.

  “What did you major in?” he asked her.

  “Sports management.”

  She collected her change and CD and didn’t say much else.

  Gary arrived to join them at the register with the young blonde hot on his heels.

  “Hey, I know you,” he announced to the shapely sports manager on her way out. He even held up his palm to high-five her. The woman smiled, slapped his hand and moved on without another word.

  “She’s ripped,” Taylor commented in her absence. “Did she play any ball?”

  Gary shrugged. “I don’t really know. She doesn’t talk much. I just know her from the weight room.” Then he turned to face the busty customer. “I’ll be right back out.”

  He eyed Taylor and smirked as he walked by him toward the storage room in the back. “She wants one of our shirts,” he gloated.

  As soon as Gary disappeared in the back, Taylor asked the customer, “He didn’t pay you to do this, did he?”

  She laughed and denied it. “No.”

  Taylor grinned and was skeptical of everything. He watched the young blonde when she walked in too, and he doubted she was buying the colorful T-shirt without any extra benefits in mind. She was outright flirting with Gary.

  Yeah, T-shirt my ass! he told himself.

  Inside the back storage room, Gary dug through his box of company-designed T-shirts and was overjoyed to find a couple of smalls at the bottom.

  “Thank God,” he gasped.

  When he returned to the register out front, Taylor was answering the store’s telephone.

  “Yeah, he’s right here,” he spoke over the line. He then slid the phone to Gary.

  Gary looked at him and frowned, denying the hand off.

  “I’m taking care of a customer right now. I’ll call them back.”

  As he handed the blonde her Psychedelic Records T-shirt, Taylor informed him, “It’s your mom.”

  Gary was stumped. He wouldn’t deny his mother’s phone call for anyone. So despite her miserable timing, he took the call.

  “Hey, Mom,” he answered cheerfully. Once he heard her out, his smile evaporated. She blasted her son with an unexpected and unprovoked rant about responsibility.

  “Whoa, whoa, Mom, what’s this all about? What’d I do?” he asked her, confused.

  She said, “It’s not about what you did, Gary. It’s more about what you need to do. You need to learn how to be more accountable. You need to grow up, Son.”

  His mother was so passionate in her words that Taylor and the young blonde were both able to hear her over the line.

  Gary was slightly embarrassed by it. “What brought this on?” he asked her.

  She said, “I’ve just been thinking about it, Gary, and I’m very disturbed right now.”

  Gary frowned and said, “Well, I’ll have to call you back on this. I’m right in the middle of my day.”

  “There you go again, putting me off,” she told him. “You’re constantly running away from things. I just stopped in the middle of my day too. I walked out in the middle of an address from the state’s health department.”

  While listening to his mother’s heartfelt rant, Gary watched the busty blonde pull her hair back and try on the tied-dyed T-shirt right in front of them. She removed her tight orange top and pulled the record store shirt over her bra.

  Oh my God! What is she doing? he asked himself as he watched, surprised by her boldness. Taylor and two of Gary’s record store employees watched as the young woman dazzled them all in front the register. She was making an obvious spectacle of herself in the middle of the phone call from his mother.

  Once she pulled the shirt on, she twisted the lower back of the tee into a knot and flattened out the front for a flat stomach with scintillating curves.

  Damn! Gary thought to himself, enchanted by her. Suddenly, his mother’s words blurred into meaningless chatter. He looked over at Taylor, who remained speechless. Taylor had already assumed the young blonde was there to hook the boss, and she had succeeded. Gary’s nose was wide open fo
r her.

  “Gary, are you listening to me?” his mother persisted over the phone. A lack of a response always meant a loss of attention for Gary. His mother knew him like any mother would know her child at twenty-six.

  Gary stammered, “Ahh, yeah, Mom, you know. I mean … You just caught me in the middle of my work.” With music still playing in the background, Gary had a point. Unless he took her phone call in the storage room, it was the wrong place and time to lock in and listen to a stern lecture.

  His mother got the point and quickly aborted her mission. “I’ll call you back later. And answer your cell phone.”

  When Gary hung up, the provocative blonde placed her twenty-five dollars on the empty counter in front of him.

  She said, “You need to order cotton mixed with spandex for your next order, and have it tapered on the sides for a better fit. Then I’ll come back and buy another one.” She hadn’t even bought any music.

  Before she walked out, Gary asked her, “Well, what’s your name? I may need to talk to you about helping me to sell my shirts with modeling. Do you do party promotions or anything?”

  He grabbed a business card from the counter and a pen from behind the register. “Come on, let me walk you out.”

  Taylor knew better than to believe his friend’s fake business talk. Business my ass! he thought. Gary doesn’t know the first thing about business. This is just a big pussy shop.

  Gary’s two staff members were skeptical as well. The busty customer had been practically begging for Gary’s attention from the moment she walked into the store.

  He escorted her out and changed his tone from business to playboy as soon as they arrived outside.

  “My name is Valerie,” she told him.

  Gary wrote his cell phone number on the back of his business card.

  “Well, Valerie, if you’re ever downtown and you want to hang out or whatever, just give me a call. I actually have a loft apartment down here on Main Street.”

  She smiled. “I’m only interested in your T-shirts,” she said. “I have a boyfriend, and I don’t think he would appreciate me hanging out downtown with you.”