âI deserved that promotion. I worked hard for it.â
Still holding the glossy portrait of her parents, Louise crossed the imported-tile floor of her fourteenth-story grossly mortgaged condominium. âYou need to mellow out and become one of the good guys,â her boss had told her when sheâd questioned why her promotion had gone to someone else. A bark of bitter laughter came from her throat at the inanity of his advice. Louise was a powerhouse in the courtroom. Aggressive, unyielding. Wasnât that what a lawyer was supposed to be?
If not, maybe sheâd chosen the wrong profession. But she loved the law. She couldnât give it up now. So where could she go to learn to be a nice, people-person kind of lawyer?
Suddenly she had the answer. Bayberry Cove. The homey little burg on the edge of Currituck Sound near the Outer Banks where her best friend lived.
Louise walked toward the phone. âIf Bayberry Cove canât turn you from a lioness into a pussycat,â she told herself, âI donât know any place that can.â
Dear Reader,
I have always admired and been a little bit envious of strong women. I am awed by females who enter politics or bravely insinuate themselves into occupations that traditionally have been considered a manâs venue. Admittedly Iâm from the generation that had to learn through experience that women could achieve whatever they wanted, be whomever they chose. Now I do believe it, wholeheartedly, and if Iâd had a daughter instead of my dear son, I would have told her to strive for whatever her heart desired.
But since I didnât have that daughter, I created Louise, a woman you may have met in The Husband She Never Knew, and who now has her own story in this book. Strong, independent and bold, Louise stands for all that is good about being a woman in the twenty-first century. But more important, she also has a soft center, a pure heart that makes her compassionate, caring and vulnerable in the ways of love. I hope you enjoy Louiseâs journey to her heartâs desire.
Cynthia Thomason
P.S. I love hearing from readers. You can write to me at P.O. Box 550068, Fort Lauderdale, Fl 33355 or e-mail me at [email protected].
This book is dedicated to the memory of Amanda Sue Brackett. Dear sister, sweet angel, your flame still burns brightly in my heart.
And a special thank-you to Florida attorney Adam Chotiner, writer Zelda Benjaminâs son-in-law, whose expertise in the field of labor law kept me on the right track.
Any mistakes are entirely mine and not his.
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
LOUISE DUNCAN, who regularly apologized to friends and business associates for being late, was fifteen minutes early this morning. The Fort Lauderdale legal firm of Oppenheimer Straus and Baker didnât officially open until nine, but when Roger Oppenheimer had called her at home the previous evening and told her to be in his office at eight, Louise knew sheâd be on time. Sheâd been waiting ten years for this call.
She exited the elevator on the top floor of the Moroccan-style building that had graced Las Olas Boulevard since the 1940s. Continuing down a wide hallway flanked with offices, Louise stopped outside Mr. Oppenheimerâs door. She knocked lightly and responding to Rogerâs request, stepped inside.
He turned from the bank of windows and smiled at her. âRight on time, I see, Louise.â He gestured for her to take a seat in a deep-tufted green leather chair, and he sat in a similar one on the other side of a mahogany coffee table. He lifted a chrome serving pitcher from a silver tray. âCoffee?â
Louise smiled back at him, growing even more confident in the cordial atmosphere. âI donât know. Did you make it yourself?â
Roger chuckled and poured a cup for himself and one for Louise. âYes, I did.â He set his mug on a coaster and molded his thick fingers over the edges of the chair arms.
Louise peered at him over the rim of her mug. It wasnât her imagination. The good humor of the last moments was fading from his features. His eyes had narrowed, the lines around his mouth deepened. The time for small talk was over. That was fine with Louise. She was ready to hear the good news.
âPerhaps you know why I called you to the office so early, Louise,â he said.
She set down her mug. âI think I have a pretty good idea.â
âI wanted to speak to you in privacy, without the interruptions of normal business hours.â
And so the others who have been considered for the promotion wouldnât be around when you tell me Iâm the one who got it. Louise allowed herself a bit of mental gloating. âI think that was a good idea, Roger.â
He moved his hands to his knees and leaned slightly forward. âAs you know, since Harker Pen-wright left, the firm has been considering moving someone from inside the organization to his position of junior partner.â