CHAPTER ELEVEN
The cold liquid and ice shocked him less than the realization that he had been about to kiss his subordinate. Not only kiss her, but do it in a public place. He must have unknown masochistic tendencies. Kiss Fern, and he could probably kiss his career goodbye. The career that meant so much to him. Ultimate took such a hard line on sexual harassment that company policy forbade any fraternization between co-workers.
When Fern regained the ability to think, she excused herself and hurried to the ladies' room. She managed to wipe away most of the gravy, but she couldn't eliminate the memory of what had just happened. Dragging her shirt through the gravy didn't embarrass her nearly as much as the fact that she almost let Pen kiss her-in the middle of a busy coffee shop, no less. Let him? If she were honest with herself, she'd admit she was fully prepared to kiss him back. In fact, she was tempted to do much more than kiss him.
She'd vowed to herself she'd never give her body to a man unless she'd already committed her heart and life to him. It had been easy to keep her vow because she'd never felt a strong desire to give her body to a man. Now she faced the challenge of keeping her pledge in spite of a physical attraction stronger than she could have imagined.
She remembered her relationship with Kevin. As much as she cared for him as a friend, she'd never felt the desire for him that she felt for Pen. How could she have developed such desire in such a short time? She'd always believed that she would have to love the man for whom she felt such desire.
She couldn't possibly love Pen already-she'd known him less than a week. That wasn't enough time-
"Fern, are you all right in there?" Loud knocking accompanied Pen's voice outside the ladies' room.
"I'll be right out," she called back. Smoothing her hair and blotting her blouse one last time, she walked out into the corridor where Pen stood waiting.
"Sorry if I embarrassed you. It's just, well, you were gone an awfully long time."
"I was trying to get the gravy out of my shirt." She looked at his face rather than his lap. "Did you get dried off?"
"I'm okay." He took her arm and led her back toward the table. "I wouldn't let the waitress take your plate. Do you want me to have it warmed up for you?"
"No, I was through." She stood by the table. "I'm ready to leave if you are."
Pen nodded, picked up the check from the table, and strode to the cash register, still holding Fern's arm.
As soon as they were in the car heading toward his hotel, Pen said, "Fern, you don't need to help me move. I'll call a cab. All I have is my luggage anyway." He turned to look at her. "I'm sorry I asked for your help. Thank you for going with me today. I didn't mean to be dictatorial."
Guilt stabbed her heart. She still regretted her treatment of Kevin, and now she regretted her outburst to Pen. "I really didn't mind taking you today. And I'll be glad to haul you and your luggage to your new place." She couldn't bring herself to apologize for her tantrum, but she hoped he recognized the apology implicit in what she did say.
He protested. "It's really not necessary. I've already taken enough advantage of you."
Why, she didn't know, but his protest made her determined to help him the next day. "You haven't taken advantage of me. I really want to help you tomorrow."
"I said no thanks." Pen's voice reflected a determination equal to her own.
"Still playing Mr. Important Boss, are you?"
"What? I told you I appreciate your offer, but you don't need to help me tomorrow."
"That's because you have to have the last word. If I had said I didn't want to help you, you'd insist I do it. Because I offered, you don't want my help anymore." She didn't know why she continued to argue. She didn't want to help him anyway, did she?
Their laughter rang out in unison. Pen shook his head. "I can't believe this. We're acting like a couple of preschoolers fighting over a toy-neither of them wants it, but they're not about to let the other one have it."
"Does that mean you really want my help?" Fern asked.
"Of course, I do." That killer smile lit up his face. "You probably really don't want to help me, but I'd appreciate it if you would."
When he flashed that smile and gazed at her with those incredible eyes, she really did want to help him. "Okay, I'll help you. It's not like I need a moving van for you and a couple of suitcases."
"Did you say you go to church in the morning?"
"Yeah. I'll be out about twelve-thirty or so. Then I'll go home, change clothes, and eat lunch. I can pick you up about two o'clock. Is that all right?"
Pen waited for her to pull into the hotel driveway and stop before he answered. "Would you be offended if I suggested I go to church with you?"
"How could anyone be offended that someone-even you," she said with a laugh, "wants to go to church? That would be a real example of Christian charity, wouldn't it?"
"My pastor in Chicago says the church is a hospital for sinners, not a hotel for saints. You probably think this sinner really needs to be in a hospital," he teased. "Can I go with you tomorrow? We can have lunch after church."
"That's fine." She hesitated before she continued. "But I did want to change into jeans before the move."
"No problem. Just carry a change of clothes in the car, and you can change at the hotel." Her face must have registered shock at this suggestion, because Pen looked at her and said, "For heaven's sake, Fern, I'm not suggesting anything improper. I know I said I'm a sinner, but I wouldn't try to seduce you right after we leave church."
Her face flamed red. She knew he didn't mean to suggest anything provocative. Her own thoughts embarrassed her. "I never thought you would."
"Well, you sure looked shocked. Enough of that. What time will you pick me up for church?"
"Ten-thirty. The service starts at eleven."
"Okay. Goodnight, Fern."
Her mind reeled with thoughts, as it always seemed to do after she had been with Pen. She didn't know why she was so determined to help him move. He could call a cab to drive him and his two bags-three bags-mustn't forget that ubiquitous computer.
Fern felt confused. If he told her-or asked her in a way she couldn't refuse-to do something, she resisted with all her might. But if he said he didn't need her help, she insisted on giving it to him. Maybe she had the problem, not him.
As Fern dressed for church Sunday morning, she wondered why she felt so jittery. Surely Pen would behave himself at church. Surely she could control her own thoughts in church.
He was waiting for her when she pulled into the hotel driveway, just as he'd been every morning before work. She'd thought he'd looked as good as a man could in his casual work clothes, but in his suit he took her breath away.
When they arrived at church, Fern realized that, for one of the few times in their acquaintance, they had carried on a comfortable conversation. Had Pen been less abrasive in his comments or had she just become accustomed to him? Perhaps they were both on their best behavior because they were on their way to church.
"Believers' Community Chapel," Pen read the sign in front of the church as Fern pulled into the parking lot. "What denomination is it?"
"It's nondenominational. We use music and rituals from several different denominations."
"I've been to a lot of different churches since I travel so much. When I'm on a trip, I usually attend whatever service is the most convenient from the hotel." He turned toward her and smiled. "It's nice to know someone in the congregation."
When Fern observed Pen during the service, she realized she might have misjudged him. Could a man be so attentive and appear so sincere in church if he were as obnoxious and self-centered as she had convinced herself he was?
She introduced him to the minister and several members of the congregation after the service.
"I'm moving to San Antonio, and I'll be looking for a church home. This certainly feels like a good possibility to me," Pen told the minister.
When they arrived at the car, Fern asked, "Do you want to go
back to your hotel now?"
"Yeah," he answered, pulling at his tie. "I can't wait to get out of this." Suddenly he stopped untying his tie. "But I promised you lunch, so I guess we'd better do that while we're still dressed."
Fern laughed. "I assume you mean while we're still dressed in our Sunday go to meetin' clothes, don't you?"
"You're right." Pen joined her in laughter. "We'd better stay dressed all day. I don't want to get evicted from my new apartment for indecent exposure before I even move in."
He forced away the images that rose to his mind at the thought of their being undressed. That line of thinking was unacceptable at any time. He was still her boss, and the company still had a strict policy regarding sexual harassment.
"We don't need to go anywhere fancy. Why don't we go by the hotel to change clothes and pick up your things? By that time, we might miss the after church crowd at the restaurant." Fern climbed into the car as she spoke.
"Good idea," Pen answered as he opened the car door.
"What did you think of the sermon?" he asked in an attempt to take his mind off indecent exposure. "I thought it was excellent."
A lively discussion of the fine points of the sermon followed, and they were at the hotel sooner than he expected.
He carried Fern's bag and motioned her into the bathroom when they reached his room. He took off his coat-his tie had come off as soon as Fern had said they didn't need to stay dressed for lunch. Hanging his coat and tie allowed him to resist the temptation to follow Fern until he heard the click of the lock in the door.
Resisting her was becoming more difficult with each passing moment. He could handle the physical reaction, as strong as it was. His emotional reaction to her made him feel as if he were gasping for air.
He had never before attended church with a woman. Pen had always considered his spiritual life to be intensely personal, not to be shared with anyone. Why had it felt so right to sit beside Fern in church? Why had their spirited discussion of the sermon given him such pleasure?
He felt so in tune with her. He desired her, he respected her, and he enjoyed being with her. The combination of desire, respect, and liking had always been Pen's definition of love.
He'd known Fern less than a week. He couldn't be in love with her already. Love at first sight happened only in movies. He knew he couldn't love her, but what name could he give his feelings toward her?
The creak of the bathroom door opening broke his reverie.
"Your turn," Fern announced.
He nodded and hurried into the bathroom carrying his jeans and T-shirt. In only a few minutes, he returned. He hung his pants on a hanger, placed them in the garment bag, and zipped it.
"Do you want to wait here while I make the first trip?" he asked.
"What do you mean, the first trip? We only need to make one trip." She picked up the garment bag. "You take your computer and the other bag."
"Fern, you ... Never mind. No use in me saying you don't have to do that. It won't do any good, will it?" He placed the two bags by the door and walked around the room, opening drawers and closets.
"Nope. It'll just waste time. I don't know why you seem to keep forgetting what I do for a living. I'm not the boss. I'm just one of the peons."
"You're not-"
She took a deep breath and interrupted. "Forget I said that. It's been a lovely morning, and I didn't mean to say anything to spoil it." She stepped into the hall with the garment bag. "I don't mind carrying your bag. It's not heavy."
After Pen checked all the drawers and closets for any forgotten items, they rode the elevator to the lobby in silence. Fern carried the garment bag to the car and returned for the other bag before Pen completed checking out of the hotel.
Lunch was magic. Fern resisted the urge to pinch herself. If she was dreaming, she didn't want to know it. Either Pen had turned on the charm or she had changed her reactions to him. The happiness she felt inside was probably reflected on her face in a goofy grin.
"That must have been the most original excuse I've ever heard for missing work." Pen smiled as he concluded his anecdote about dealing with an employee attendance problem at one of the branches.
"I've heard some strange excuses, but I've never heard that one. Imagine missing work because you had to bury your dead goldfish."
Pen swallowed the last of his iced tea. "Ready?" he asked.
Fern nodded and picked up her purse. In only a few minutes, they had arrived at Pen's new apartment. Pen carried his bags into the bedroom while Fern waited in the living room.
"I'd offer you coffee or soda, but my cupboard is bare," Pen said on his return. "Do you know if there's a grocery store in walking distance?"
"Yeah, there's an HEB in the next block."
"HEB? Is that a store?" he asked.
"Yeah, the H. E. Butt family has been in the grocery business here forever." She rose from the chair and stepped toward the kitchen. "What about dishes and cookware?"
"I have everything back in Chicago. I'll pack it all when I go back the week after next and have it shipped. In the meantime, I was just going to get some sandwich stuff and paper plates. Maybe a couple of frozen dinners to pop into the microwave." He shrugged. "It'll be only a few more days till I have everything down here."
"I'll drive you to the store." Fern didn't know why she made the offer. She'd done her duty. She could go home now and relax. "You'll probably have more than you can carry in one trip."
"Thanks for the offer," Pen said, "but you've already done enough. Go on home and enjoy the rest of your weekend. I won't impose on you any more." He started toward the kitchen.
"I said I'll drive you," Fern insisted. "You can't impose when I'm the one to make the offer. Do you need to buy groceries or not?"
Pen laughed and held out his hands in a gesture of defeat. "Okay, you win. We're back to squabbling like two-year-olds. Thank you, Fern, I'd appreciate your help," he said with a smile.
When they reached the store, Pen took a cart and headed for the bakery. He selected bread, crackers, and cookies. Then he went to the deli and selected several kinds of meats and cheeses.
"Where are the chips?" he asked.
After he chose two kinds of chips, he pushed the cart to the frozen food section. He tossed a couple of frozen pot pies and a package of frozen burritos into the basket, and said, "That should do for a week. Now for some paper goods."
"Do you call all that junk you picked out food?" Fern took a firm hold on the shopping cart. "Where are the fruits and vegetables?"
"I'm not going to cook much till I bring my kitchen things."
He pushed the cart, but Fern stood directly in front of it. When he tried to go forward, she pushed back against it.
"You don't have to cook fresh fruit. If you don't want to make the effort to cook fresh vegetables, at least buy some canned veggies." She took her hands from the cart and placed them on her hips. "You can heat them in the microwave on a paper plate, so don't give me this business about not wanting to cook."
Pen pushed the cart forward, and Fern jumped out of the way. "What are you-a dietitian? My mother always made me eat my vegetables when I was kid. I'm a grownup now, so I decide what I eat."
His raised voice attracted interested glances from other shoppers. Fern didn't like to be the center of attention, but she ignored the other shoppers and grabbed Pen's arm.
"You may be a grownup, but you're sure acting like a kid. All I did was suggest you moderate your diet of junk food with a piece of fruit or a bowl of veggies, and you act like I've committed the crime of the century." She whirled around and walked away.
She was acting as childish as Pen had. He'd been right when he'd said they were like bickering children. Why did she overreact to everything he said or did? She had no business caring if he wanted to subsist on sandwiches and burritos. Why was she worried about his health?
Just because his body exerted a magnetic pull on hers-just because his mind intrigued her-just because he s
hared her sense of humor-just because he could charm her when he wasn't antagonizing her didn't mean she should become involved in his personal life. She walked around the store a few minutes before she found him loading paper plates and plastic utensils in the basket.
"I see you found the paper goods and soap," she said, inclining her head toward the paper towels, bath soap, and dish detergent in the cart.
Pen didn't answer right away. He picked up a package of napkins and placed them in the cart. "I think I have everything I need, unless you have any more suggestions to offer."
"No more suggestions." She took a deep breath and nibbled on her lower lip. "I'm sorry. Your eating habits are none of my concern." The thought that she wished all of his habits were her concern startled her.
Pen pushed the basket forward and spoke without looking at her. "Where would I find the fruit? I'd like some bananas and apples."
Fern knew that Pen would not apologize easily, so she decided to take his comment as an apology and a peace offering.
"This way."
She was pleased to see him buy a prepackaged salad as well as the fruit. Either his eating habits weren't as bad as she thought or he was trying to make amends.
Fern's Fancies Page 11
