“Aren’t you supposed to be resting that?” He asked gently and she jumped, so lost in her thoughts she hadn’t heard him come in.
“Yeah I am. It just aches. Sorry.”
He grinned. “Don’t apologise. I wasn’t telling you off yet.”
Humour quirked her lips. “Yet being the operative word there. Before long you’ll be snapping at me every time I twitch my fingers.”
He pretended to be offended. “Do you really think I’m that much of a control freak?”
“Well I couldn’t put it in your dating profile because it would scare people away, but yes...I think you have to be for your job.”
“Oh yes, the profile.” He gestured for her to take a seat at the table as Sam came in to serve up the dinner. “How did you get on with it?”
“I don’t know.” She replied honestly. “I think I made some educated guesses that could be totally off the mark. If it’s all correct I should go into a career as a psychic.”
“I was going to wait until after dinner but now I’m intrigued.” He put down his soup spoon. “Where is it? Can I read it now?”
Suddenly shy, Elise shrugged. “The laptop is in the living room. I left it up on the screen.”
He went to fetch it and sat back at the table to read it while Elise ate her soup and tried not to watch him too obviously. For a really long time he just stared at the screen and Elise started to worry. It was only a couple of paragraphs...surely it hadn’t taken him that long to read it?
“Did I get it right?” She ventured eventually when he didn’t seem inclined to speak and he blinked at her.
“I don’t even...how...?” He seemed at a loss for words.
“Damn, I got it all wrong didn’t I?” Elise sighed. “I’m sorry. I’ll try again tomorrow.”
“No it’s not that at all.” He seemed a little dazed. “Totally the opposite in fact. How did you know this stuff? We’ve never talked about surfing. It’s so weird, all the hairs are standing up on the back of my neck.”
“The surfing was an educated guess.” Elise tried to downplay it for fear of freaking him out. “It’s all about observation. When you came home for lunch today you were wearing a T-shirt with a Fat Face logo on it. There’s a pair of flip-flops peeking out from under your bed which I noticed on the tour of the chalet yesterday. And when we were outside last night you were playing Tom Petty. A lot of people who are into skiing are also into surfing.”
“And the volunteering?”
“Okay, I confess that wasn’t even an educated guess.” She blushed. “You just seem like a generous kind of guy. Not everyone would put a total stranger up in such luxurious surroundings for three days and you seemed to know your way around the hospital pretty well yesterday.”
“Ok.” He blinked. “I know I told you I couldn’t cook but how did you know I’m into wine?”
“There are two empty bottles of vintage Chateau Musar and an empty bottle of Chateau Margeaux waiting to go to the recycling. They’d only be chosen by somebody that knows more about wine than how much it costs. If you were going by price alone there’d be more expensive bottles sitting there.”
“How do you know I’m looking for someone that will challenge me?” He had totally forgotten his soup by now and was staring at her as though she was the oracle.
“Because you laugh at me every time I answer back. I imagine you get a little fed up of everyone kow-towing to you all day every day at the office. It’s not too much of a stretch of the imagination to think you’d want a woman that would keep you grounded when your world is threatening to turn you into a megalomaniac.”
“The old-fashioned dating?” He shook his head. “I’m pretty sure I’ve never opened a door for you.”
“True, but you did stand up when I left for bed last night. That speaks of ingrained gentlemanly manners. If that’s what you do when you’re not trying to impress someone I suspect that you on a full-scale charm offensive would be terribly proper. I bet you expect girls to wait for you to come around and open their car doors for them too.”
“Is that a bad thing?” He didn’t mean it to sound snappy and she didn’t take it as such.
“Not at all. On the contrary, it’s very charming.”
He grinned. “Right answer. Who says I’m not trying to impress you? And the kids? I know for a fact we haven’t talked about that.”
“Also a total guess on my part.” She shrugged self-consciously. “I think guys from wealthy families are almost expected to pass the name on. In your case it’s doubly important because you’re an empire builder and that attitude nearly always extrapolates to daily life. Guys who have made something of their life want someone to pass it on to.”
He stared at her in silence for a long time again. Feeling uncomfortable for reasons she couldn’t fathom, Elise returned to her soup and tried to ignore his scrutiny. He waited until she had finished and their bowls were cleared away before he spoke again.
“You are one very scary woman. You’re also hired.”
They spent the evening watching a movie and both went to bed early. The following morning Elise’s wrist was still stiff and aching so she spent most of the morning soaking in the swimming pool masquerading as a bath, pampering herself. By the time Taylor got back for lunch she was settled on a sofa in the living room reading.
“You’re looking much happier today.” He commented. “Is the wrist better?”
“Not really. I just haven’t done any typing today.” She smiled at him. “I figured it would help in case you decided to give me another challenge for the afternoon. You know I’m perceptive but you don’t know if I can write a blog.”
“Sure I do.” He went straight for the coffee. “You write your columns like most people would write a blog. You just have to submit three a week instead of one. You think you could manage that?”
“I don’t know.” Elise frowned. That would certainly be hard work in between visiting her projects. “It’ll be different when I have the theme given to me. Usually it takes me a couple of days a week to find something I want to write about. I also don’t know how much editing it’s going to need.”
He poured her a coffee and placed it on the table in front of her. “Fine. I have every faith that you’ll be excellent at it but if you want a challenge then I’d like you to write a blog entry about coming here. I’ll read it when I get in this afternoon.”
I have always thought that I’m not very photogenic. It grieves me when I see pictures of my friends looking all glossy and glamorous. It’s a sharp kind of envy, like the way it feels to be the ugly teenager standing by the wall watching everybody else on the dance floor. It wasn’t until the day before yesterday that I finally understood why I’m not photogenic. No, it’s not a result of bad genes or frizzy hair and terrible clothing choices. It’s because my life is such a disaster when you break it down into its constituent snapshots.
The day before yesterday I arrived for an interview. Literally within twenty seconds of meeting my prospective employer I had sworn at him, accused him of sneaking up on me, broken my wrist and made myself out to be directionally challenged. As failures go it was pretty epic. I can laugh while typing about it now (one-handed obviously) but at the time, if somebody had been snapping candid photographs, they would have captured a whole range of bizarre facial expressions from fright to pain to rage and then to monstrous embarrassment.
If the same photographer had followed me only moments later he would have captured any number of facial expressions from awe to raging envy on the tour of Chateau Stone. Who doesn’t envy a bath tub big enough for a rugby team? You could swim laps in this thing it’s so huge. And the bubble jets? I have a sneaking suspicion that if you put your head underwater while they’re going you’d hear the Hallelujah Chorus in six part harmony. Any and all subsequent photographs would have had me looking like a prune from the hours spent lying in the bath conducting the bubble jet orchestra. Actually the photos of me lying in the bath conducting the or
chestra would go a long way towards getting me sectioned and nowhere near the direction of getting me to look photogenic.
Having managed not to freak out my prospective employer with my antics on day one, day two continued with a challenge. I had to write a profile for him for a dating site. I was torn between horror and amusement. I bet that was a pretty weird facial expression. I suspect my lip was curling like a dachshund with a sleep-smooshed face. There might have been a twitch in my eye. Thinking about it now I probably resembled that squirrel from Ice Age except with a dating profile instead of an acorn.
I wrote the profile and, while I think it was successful, I may have come across as the stalker type rather than the observant type when it came to explaining my reasoning. Cue a range of I-swear-I-noticed-them-on-the-tour-and-I-haven’t-been-rummaging-under-your-bed/in-your-recycling facial expressions. I don’t even want to think what they looked like.
Having developed this theory past a necessary point to prove it, I have now moved on to trying to fix it. I strongly suspect that Botox is the answer. I’m never going to be any less accident-prone and my face is a little like an etch-a-sketch – emotions come and go on it with nary a shake in between. If I had Botox I might assume an expression of ‘permanently startled chimp’ but it would be an excellent poker face. Yes, if you are wondering, I really did just try and make a face like a startled chimp, further proving my point.
Unfortunately Botox involves the injecting of toxins into my face and I don’t think I’m ready for that quite yet. In truth, there’s more to life than being photogenic and maybe being this way isn’t always bad. My friends know that I am always honest with them because my face totally gives me away when I’m lying. The path of honesty isn’t always the easiest but it’s certainly the least complicated in the long run and there’s a lot to be said for that.
I guess when it comes right down to it I’d rather be openly trustworthy than a poker face full of poison. But I would really like the job.
“You are completely nuts but there’s no doubt about it – you can blog.” Taylor had laughed all the way through reading her writing as they sat at dinner. “Where do you even come up with this stuff? Really? Conducting in the bath?”
“I don’t know. I just start writing and the words follow themselves.” Elise didn’t know whether to feel embarrassed or amused.
“But how did you start with it? I asked you to write about your visit here and the first sentence is about how you’re not photogenic. It’s the leap of logic that I don’t get.” He shook his head in amusement. “I’d love to know what life is like from your perspective. Your thought processes must be extraordinary.”
“Not really.” She could feel herself blushing again. “I just take something from my day and run with it. I go over it in my head before I start writing. I was thinking that your first impression of me probably couldn’t have been any worse and that anyone watching it would have thought you were the one that’s nuts for still giving me a chance. That naturally progressed to the realisation that anyone watching me through my life would realise I was a hopeless case and that’s probably why I don’t photograph very well. I’m constantly doing something clumsy or off the wall. That said, I think when it comes to the feature, if I take you up on your offer, I’m sure it’ll be about internet dating. That’s weird enough all on its own without me having to add any humour.”
“Ok, two questions for you.” He sat forward in his chair and sipped his wine. “One – why would you consider not taking the job? And two – why were you internet dating in the first place? You’re funny and attractive and outgoing. I can’t believe you’d have too much trouble finding a guy.”
Elise suddenly became very interested in her plate. “It’s a big thing to move to London for 3 months or more and it’s going to be hard work. I don’t know if I’ve got what it takes to help these guys. What I like might not be what other women are looking for. We also haven’t discussed any of the details of it. I know the expenses will be generous to cover the cost of living down there but we still need to hammer out contract details and salary. Anything could go wrong between now and...” She blinked.
“June.” Taylor supplied with a smile. “The blog will start in June. I see your point. And question two?”
“I’ve been single for two and a half years and I live in a tiny village in the middle of nowhere. Apart from the local pub where, let’s face it, I’m only going to meet hardened drinkers, there is nowhere to meet guys. There are no evening classes to attend, no clubs to join. I gave up hanging out at the cafe when my jeans started getting too tight from all the cakes I felt duty bound to buy for occupying a table. There’s not even a library and I’m not shallow enough to go to church for the sole purpose of meeting men.”
“But you’ve thought about it?” His eyes were twinkling wickedly and Elise burst out laughing.
“It’s been a long time. Yeah I thought about it.”
He joined her laughing out loud. “You weren’t lying about the honesty thing were you?”
“Not at all. But I’ll be horribly disappointed if you take advantage of it.”
“Oh now! That’s not fair! Now that you’ve said it I’m dying to ask all sorts of questions!” He levelled a steady look at her with a broad grin playing on his lips. “Oh Elise...that was a foolish thing to say. Now you’ve done it.”
“Okay.” Elise set down her knife and fork. “I am going to remind you at this juncture that you want to employ me. I beg of you not to ask anything that will make our potential working employment awkward.”
“I don’t know that I can resist the temptation!” He laughed.
“Well you’re going to have to.” Smiling to cover her unease Elise got up to take her plate to the kitchen.
“Elise, stop. Look at me.” He was aiming for teasing but there was a darker undertone to it and Elise didn’t stop.
“No.” She told him firmly, heading for the kitchen. “You’re about to cross a line that we can’t back over.” She pushed through to the kitchen to the relative safety of company.
“You didn’t have to bring your plate through.” Sam told her with a touch of surprise. “Was everything okay?”
“Yes it was delicious, thank you.” Trying to calm the fire in her cheeks Elise took a deep breath and began to rinse her plate at the sink.
“Ladies, can we have a moment alone please.” Taylor said quietly from the doorway and the girls left immediately without a word. “I’m sorry Elise.” He told her sincerely. “Please look at me.” Elise rinsed the suds off her hands and turned round to face him. “Why did you run away?” He asked and she sighed.
“You were going to ask me if I found you attractive. I could hear it in your voice. It’s in your nature to want to be in a position of control but it’s not appropriate to the situation. It would have started out jokingly and ended up as a terrible mess.”
“I won’t deny that’s what I wanted to ask but I see where you’re coming from.” He leaned against the door frame. “I don’t know what got into me. Actually I do. I find you attractive, I already told you that.”
“But you were just being nice at the time.” Elise pointed out and he sighed.
“No, actually I wasn’t. I find it bizarre that someone as pretty and funny as you has to use a dating website to get a guy. If you weren’t so determined to be responsible I’d be trying really hard to get you into bed right now.”
“You told me yesterday you never mixed business with pleasure. I don’t think sleeping with your employees is a great way to demonstrate that.” She couldn’t look at him and grabbed a dish cloth to dry her hands on, twisting it in her fingers. “I know we’re not going to see that much of each other, even if I did come to London, but don’t you think that a holiday fling would make it a little awkward on the occasions when we do have to meet?”
He seemed amused. “It’s just sex! You think we couldn’t sleep together and just be friends afterward?”
“Why are you
so sure we’re going to stay friends?” She protested angrily. He was stirring up all sorts of emotions. “We might as well be on different planets when you look at the social circles we come from. Up here and alone we’re getting on fine after 2 days together but down south, when you’re back in your manic office life surrounded by the beautiful people, you won’t have time or enthusiasm for a simple country girl like me. I don’t have style or polish. I couldn’t tell the difference between Versace and Florence and Fred. I don’t belong in your world as a friend or as an occasional winter lover whenever you fancy a one night stand. And the fact that you think sex is just sex without any emotional attachment just goes to show what different worlds we come from. I value people too highly to assume I could just use their body when I fancy a tumble, but the world you live in? Even your friends are disposable.” She shook her head in disgust. “I’m going to bed. I guess I’ll see you at lunch.” She stormed out without giving him any chance to defend himself and he stared after her in disbelief.
She took her time coming downstairs the following morning but he hadn’t headed out to the slopes and was waiting for her in the living room staring moodily out of the window. For a moment she thought about trying to sneak past but then gave up on it.
“I’m sorry about last night.” She told him softly. “I said some things I probably shouldn’t have said.”
“Not at all.” He looked like he’d barely slept. “I deserved every word of it and probably a few choice ones that you didn’t say. Do you want breakfast?”
“Yes please.” She followed him through to the kitchen and they sat at the small table looking out across the hills.
“I feel terrible.” He admitted as she slathered jam on a croissant. “You’re right about my world in London. It is completely superficial and people are very promiscuous and shallow. I had no right to assume the same about you and I’m ashamed that I did, even for a moment, because you are clearly different.” He sighed. “You were more right than you knew when you wrote that profile for me. I do need somebody to challenge me. Last night was a prime example of what I turn into when everybody says yes to me all the time.” She opened her mouth to say something but he hushed her. “No, please let me finish. I do think you’re very pretty Elise but the more I thought about it overnight the more I realised that I didn’t really want to sleep with you...I was just horny as hell and you were here and I dealt with the situation exactly as I would have done if I had been with some shallow and vacuous bimbo back home instead of an intelligent, charming and funny woman whose friendship I really don’t want to lose. And there is the truth of it. We’ve had such a laugh that when I picture you in my head it’s as a friend first and then as a woman. I just don’t find you attractive in that way and you stopped me from making a really big mistake last night. I’m hoping that my arrogance and stupidity hasn’t totally blown the job offer into smithereens because I really do think you’d be a great asset to our web team. I’m sorry and I hope you’ll forgive me.”
Summer Loving Page 3
