Read Online Unforgivable by Tina Wainscott - Free Book Online Page A

be fruitless. As the suds slid down her hands and down the drain, she felt the first impish glimmer light in her stomach. She pushed it away.
     
    Ben preceded Katie into the diner that served as the hub of town despite its non-central location. Dinah Simpson had bought the ailing diner with the money her late husband left her. At forty, her short, black hair and stylish outfits, along with her lucrative business, garnered her more marriage proposals in one week than a woman got in two lifetimes, Katie suspected. The menu was an eclectic mix of down-home and nouveau cuisine that Dinah copied from Atlanta restaurants. Every night the specials were something interesting, like salmon with mango salsa and grits or trout with dill and wine sauce. She’d classed up the joint with fancy wallpaper borders and a European décor, then sold out to greed by displaying area advertising everywhere one looked, even in the bathrooms. 
    “Hey, Ben!” Dinah greeted with a warm smile. “How’s it going?”
    “For a man going to the dogs, as good as can be expected,” he answered.
    Dinah and two men at the counter laughed, even though they’d heard the reply every time Ben walked in. 
    Dinah’s smile cooled considerably when she laid eyes on Katie. “Hey,” she said, then turned to wipe down a section of counter that already looked clean.
    “Hi,” Katie said warmly, then turned to the men. “How are you?”
    They nodded, then resumed their conversation.
    She joined Ben at a booth, and Linda sauntered over. “Hey ya, Ben. Katie,” she added as an afterthought. “Ice tea?” She waited for Ben to answer, though he nodded for Katie to order.
    “People don’t like me,” Katie said when the waitress left.
    “Sure they do.”
    “You didn’t notice the difference in response we get? It’s so obvious.”
    He glanced over her head to see the specials written on a blackboard in florescent marker. “You’re imagining things.”
    “Am I, Ben?”
    He set his menu down and looked across the slate table at her. “Katie, what possible reason could anyone here have to dislike you?”
    “I don’t know, but they do. I’m not imagining it.” 
    She glanced around the diner. Those who met her gaze nodded briefly—no smile—before returning to whatever they were doing. Maybe the problem was that they didn’t know her. She’d been born in Flatlands but had participated in very little in town. A pink flier in the window asked for volunteers to help at the County Fair. Then Ben would be by himself, and she’d feel guilty all day and more for it.
    Harold Boyd walked over and planted his beefy hands on their table. “Hey, ya’ll. How’s it going?”
    Katie was pretty sure it wasn’t just the pulsing tic on Harold’s right eyelid that made her uneasy. He couldn’t help that just like she couldn’t help the wine stain on her neck. She nodded before returning her attention to the menu. Maybe it was his bear-like physique or the way he liked to hover just a little too close. 
    The men talked over some small-town gossip for a minute, and then Harold rapped his knuckles on the tabletop. “Got to head back to the barn.” She was unnerved to find him looking right at her. “I’ll see you around.” He even touched her arm in an affectionate gesture before heading out.
    “See, he’s friendly toward you,” Ben said.
    When she drove home an hour later, she was convinced that she was nothing more than a selfish, dissatisfied woman. Everyone worshipped Ben, and he was a wonderful man. She, on the other hand, had leached off of him from the time she was nine, eagerly taking the security he offered. 
    When she passed her own driveway, she chastised herself again. 
    What are you doing, Katie ? 
    Just going to see why he ’ s back in town, that ’ s all. 
    That was her thought as she turned down the long-unused driveway that led to Silas’s house. The drive wasn’t as long as it had seemed to her that awful day. A warm breeze