man’s pain. Their problem is that
they don’t understand our pain.”
He wasn’t bluffing, was he? The man actually intended to go through with this.
“I will leave Ahmed with you for six hours. Then I will return and kill him, unless you are willing to sacrifice your child’s
life for his. And then”—a tear formed on the edge of Kahlid’s eyes and slipped down his cheek—“then we will bring in the second
one. A girl named Miriam. You’ve killed thousands, but I beg of you, don’t make me kill even one more.”
6
THE ATMOSPHERE AT Truluck’s steak and seafood restaurant in downtown Austin reminded Bethany of success, with all the clinking
silverware and wineglasses, the murmur of important people reviewing what they’d accomplished this day and planning the next.
The fact that the district attorney, Burt Welsh, had joined her and her mother, two days after her selection to be on the
cover of
Youth Nation,
only solidified the impression.
Problem was, she was quite sure she didn’t belong.
Everywhere she looked, waiters in white aprons served customers heaping plates of broiled lobster tails and crab legs while
a piano player filled the dimly lit room with music.
“A toast?” The DA held up his wineglass with an infectious grin.
Her mother lifted her glass and Bethany followed suit, raising her own, never mind that it was Dr. Pepper.
“To the next cover girl of
Youth Nation
,” the DA said.
“To the most wonderful daughter a mother could ever hope for,” Celine chimed in, beaming.
Her mother was certainly in her element. Bethany smiled graciously. “Thank you.”
They clinked their glasses and took sips.
“I have to say, I’ve been around the block a few times, and I admit I have an eye for those bound for glory. You, young lady,
are one such person, I could see it the moment you walked in tonight.”
What did you say to that?
The DA continued before she could say anything. “Like mother, like daughter.”
Her mother’s eyes sparkled with pride. “Thank you, Burt.”
It was the first time Bethany had actually met the DA, and thinking of him by his name seemed strange to her. Her mother,
on the other hand, wasn’t nearly so reserved. Only a blind man wouldn’t see the chemistry between them. Didn’t they care that
half the restaurant probably recognized the DA and was wondering at this very moment why he was sitting at a table with a
married woman and her daughter, with more than food on his mind?
“Thank you,” she said.
They talked about the upcoming trip to New York and the modeling business while they waited for their food. She was surprised
to learn that the DA—Burt, he insisted she call him—that Burt Welsh had modeled himself once, while attending law school at
the University of Texas. He’d quit when they’d asked him to do an underwear shoot.
Honestly, she wasn’t quite sure what to make of the man. He certainly had the look of a model, with large square shoulders
and a closely shaved jaw, but she found him oddly repulsive. A perfect fit for her mother maybe, with his compelling, confident
demeanor, but that didn’t make him God’s gift to all women.
They’d come to celebrate; when Celine suggested they take up the DA’s offer to take them to dinner, she’d agreed. Clearly
something was going on between them; maybe it was time to meet this man her mother spent so much time on the phone with.
But half an hour in Burt’s company reminded her why she didn’t think she could stomach the modeling business as more than
a passing gig.
She began to regret her decision to let him join them. It was fine for her mother, who deserved some love in her life—her
father had failed miserably on that front. But that didn’t mean Bethany had to like the man who was sharing her mother’s bed
when it suited them.
In fact, sitting here with him in the lap of luxury, Bethany felt oddly sick. Here the rich partook of the spoils of
they don’t understand our pain.”
He wasn’t bluffing, was he? The man actually intended to go through with this.
“I will leave Ahmed with you for six hours. Then I will return and kill him, unless you are willing to sacrifice your child’s
life for his. And then”—a tear formed on the edge of Kahlid’s eyes and slipped down his cheek—“then we will bring in the second
one. A girl named Miriam. You’ve killed thousands, but I beg of you, don’t make me kill even one more.”
6
THE ATMOSPHERE AT Truluck’s steak and seafood restaurant in downtown Austin reminded Bethany of success, with all the clinking
silverware and wineglasses, the murmur of important people reviewing what they’d accomplished this day and planning the next.
The fact that the district attorney, Burt Welsh, had joined her and her mother, two days after her selection to be on the
cover of
Youth Nation,
only solidified the impression.
Problem was, she was quite sure she didn’t belong.
Everywhere she looked, waiters in white aprons served customers heaping plates of broiled lobster tails and crab legs while
a piano player filled the dimly lit room with music.
“A toast?” The DA held up his wineglass with an infectious grin.
Her mother lifted her glass and Bethany followed suit, raising her own, never mind that it was Dr. Pepper.
“To the next cover girl of
Youth Nation
,” the DA said.
“To the most wonderful daughter a mother could ever hope for,” Celine chimed in, beaming.
Her mother was certainly in her element. Bethany smiled graciously. “Thank you.”
They clinked their glasses and took sips.
“I have to say, I’ve been around the block a few times, and I admit I have an eye for those bound for glory. You, young lady,
are one such person, I could see it the moment you walked in tonight.”
What did you say to that?
The DA continued before she could say anything. “Like mother, like daughter.”
Her mother’s eyes sparkled with pride. “Thank you, Burt.”
It was the first time Bethany had actually met the DA, and thinking of him by his name seemed strange to her. Her mother,
on the other hand, wasn’t nearly so reserved. Only a blind man wouldn’t see the chemistry between them. Didn’t they care that
half the restaurant probably recognized the DA and was wondering at this very moment why he was sitting at a table with a
married woman and her daughter, with more than food on his mind?
“Thank you,” she said.
They talked about the upcoming trip to New York and the modeling business while they waited for their food. She was surprised
to learn that the DA—Burt, he insisted she call him—that Burt Welsh had modeled himself once, while attending law school at
the University of Texas. He’d quit when they’d asked him to do an underwear shoot.
Honestly, she wasn’t quite sure what to make of the man. He certainly had the look of a model, with large square shoulders
and a closely shaved jaw, but she found him oddly repulsive. A perfect fit for her mother maybe, with his compelling, confident
demeanor, but that didn’t make him God’s gift to all women.
They’d come to celebrate; when Celine suggested they take up the DA’s offer to take them to dinner, she’d agreed. Clearly
something was going on between them; maybe it was time to meet this man her mother spent so much time on the phone with.
But half an hour in Burt’s company reminded her why she didn’t think she could stomach the modeling business as more than
a passing gig.
She began to regret her decision to let him join them. It was fine for her mother, who deserved some love in her life—her
father had failed miserably on that front. But that didn’t mean Bethany had to like the man who was sharing her mother’s bed
when it suited them.
In fact, sitting here with him in the lap of luxury, Bethany felt oddly sick. Here the rich partook of the spoils of
Similar Books
