Adversaries and Lovers Read Free Page B

what time I do have is usually filled with wine, women and song. So what's it going to be?"
    He was toying with her and he was enjoying it. He was also boxing her into a corner. But if she wanted to plead her case, she had little choice. "Very well," she said, "but I warn you, I know karate." Which she didn't. But it seemed appropriate to tell him.
    Ben laughed heartily. "So, the lady can defend herself. I look forward to that."
    Kate had no idea how to interpret that but she definitely did not like the sound of it.
    ***
    "What are you up to, girl?"
    Kate’s hand jerked, dislodging the photo she'd been attempting to covertly replace in the album. She looked around to find her grandmother standing behind her. Offering her a contrite smile, she said, "Just replacing some old photos that had… uh… fallen out." She knew Grandma would not approve of her recent visit to Ben Stassen's office, or of her upcoming meeting with him on Saturday.
    Before she could retrieve the other photos, a narrow shoe pinned them to the floor. Grandma slipped the photos out from under her foot and looked at them. "You're up to something," she said. "What's this all about?"
    Kate looked up. "Nothing. I was just replacing the old photos."
    "Well, don't go getting tangled up with this bunch—" Grandma waved the photos of Henry Stassen "—over the zoning change, because you won't get anywhere. The lot of them are a bunch of unscrupulous, unprincipled, nincompoops."
    Kate eyed her grandmother, knowing there was more to the story than she was letting on. "You've always said that but you've never said why. What happened between Grandpa and Henry Stassen?"
    "Nothing that concerns you." Grandma snatched up the photo album, shoved the photos inside and snapped the book shut. "You'd think a person could have a little privacy around here." She replaced the album and closed the trunk.
    "Privacy. All you have in there is a raccoon coat, some old clothes, a photo album, and a bundle old love letters, not addressed in Grandpa's handwriting," Kate teased. "At least I assume they're love letters, judging from the pink ribbon tied around them. Come on, Grandma, fess up. Was there a young buck in your life before you met Grandpa?"
    "Don't be ridiculous," Grandma huffed.
    Kate studied her grandmother. The wiry little woman was truly disturbed. "I'm not being ridiculous. I know you loved Grandpa, so what difference would it make?"
    "It doesn't make any difference," Grandma snapped. "Now go wash for supper."
    Kate started to tell her that she no longer needed to be reminded to wash before eating, then decided against it. Grandma was in a dour mood, and Kate suspected it had to do with Henry Stassen and the old photos.
    At dinner, Kate asked, "What happened at the committee meeting today?"
    Grandma's eyes narrowed, and she waved her fork as she replied, "We're working on the appeal and it's coming along. We'll be ready for that bunch when the time comes. We're also planning a protest march. We're meeting on Saturday, so you plan to come."
    Kate swallowed hard. "Saturday?"
    "Saturday morning. About eleven."
    "Eleven?"
    "It's the only time we can all get together. We're meeting here."
    "Here?"
    Grandma slapped her fork down and stared at Kate. "What in the world’s wrong with you, girl? You're acting like an old woman, repeating everything I say."
    Kate gave a nervous little laugh. Attempting to shrug off her odd behavior, she said, "I was just preoccupied. I have an appointment on Saturday to go over some advertising layouts with... umm… a new client, and I was toying with some ad ideas."
    "Then change your appointment," Grandma said. "One of the reasons we set the meeting for Saturday was so you could be here."
    "I'm sorry, Grandma, but this is pretty important," Kate replied. "If I thought I could change it I would. But, when I get back from my appointment, you can fill me in on what happened at the meeting and I'll be sure to read over the appeal."
    "Who's the