by Nancy Radke
He had to do something to keep from losing her. Maybe if he saw the optometrist and Ellen heard there wasn't anything wrong, she would keep trying to teach him. After all, he was learning more words every day. Something should click into place, someday, and he'd be able to put them together.
With reluctance, he admitted that his strong attraction for Ellen was as a woman and not a teacher. He didn't want her to leave, ever. If only he could get her to view him as a man: capable in all ways, making decisions. Not someone she needed to mother.
There must be some way to talk her into staying longer. He just needed leverage.
Ellen drove to Jared's home Tuesday afternoon, having spent the morning poring over books on reading in an attempt to discover what was causing his problem. By now she was even more certain something was physically wrong, but did not see how she could convince him enough to overcome his refusal to see an optometrist.
She had never felt so discouraged. Honesty had forced her to speak up, while her heart told her to continue the lessons, trying to teach him in any way.
She had become emotionally involved with this man, so much that she was willing to try anything to teach him—and therefore continue their relationship. If Jared refused to see a doctor, she would be forced to end their reading sessions.
Of course, she could continue to teach him just to stay close to him. But it would give him false hope and his frustration would probably carry over to their relationship, destroying their friendship.
Jared stood at the top of the drive, opening her car door before she came to a complete stop. She could tell he was agitated, and immediately became concerned. It was impossible to stay professionally distanced from him.
The furrowed lines of worry covered his forehead. "Donna insists I get someone in so she can train a replacement. Right away."
"That's okay," Ellen's voice clung to the teacher's professional calmness as she followed him inside the house. "We'll do what we can—"
Smashing one hand against the other, he said, impatiently, "It's not okay. She's written an ad. Wanted to place it today. I told her to wait."
Ellen's voice was still soothing, as to a recalcitrant child. "I can see her point. Hire someone now, while she's there to train her. Otherwise, your office will be a mess."
Ellen couldn't understand why he had delayed this long. She had told him, from the beginning, that she wouldn't be able to teach him very fast.
He stopped in the foyer and turned towards her. A sudden gleam appeared in his eyes, filling her with alarm. If she read him correctly, he had made an instant decision and was at this moment deciding how to talk her into being his new office manager. The grin that crossed his face was one of confident satisfaction... in her he saw the answer to his problem.
"Oh, no!" she shrilled, holding her hands out to stop him. “Don’t look at me like that.”
"Why not? You could still tutor me in the afternoon and evenings."
She could have told him why not. Besides the fact that she had never worked in an office, she was already emotionally involved—out of control where he was concerned. Now he wanted her to be with him eight hours a day plus nights.
"I absolutely hate computers," she sputtered, trying to give him a reason he'd accept.
"That doesn't matter. You will be my new office manager." He spoke slowly and with the utmost conviction, his expressive brow arched with decision.
"I'm a tutor... a teacher," she protested.
"And an office manager,” he said with a soft laugh.
"I’m committed to teach this fall. I’ve signed a contract. I can’t take a permanent job with you."
“It won’t be permanent. Just until I learn to read.”
“No. I can’t.”
"No?" he drawled out the question, his eyes challenging her. "Who else am I going to get?"
"Anyone." She could be just as stubborn as he.
"Who?"
"Your sister."
"Never. She wouldn't have time, even if I did ask her, which I won't."
"Your mother?"
"No way. You."
This was impossible. She wasn't trained for this. She chewed on her lower lip, trying to think of a reason he'd accept. "Jared—"
"Afraid?" he challenged.
"Terrified. And smart enough to know I'll render your letters unreadable with errors. I don't even know what an office manager does," she wailed.
"We'll survive." He tilted his head back slightly, so that he was looking at her through half-opened lids. His eyes stayed focused on hers, as if he could will her to agree.
"No. Absolutely not. Never. Nada. Get someone else. Now, while Donna can train her."
"She can train you."
"Oh, no. She doesn't expect to train someone from scratch. And I would have to start lower than that. I've never worked in an office at any position. She'll think you're out of your mind. Nuts."
"Surely it can't be that hard," he persisted. "You're very intelligent."
"It's hard enough," Ellen grumbled, sorry she had ever complimented him in that area. "I'm all thumbs." She held out her hands as if to show him how incapable they were. "Do you know, I hired someone to type my term papers. I went without meals so I had the money to pay them. That's how much I hate computers."
"I'll double your wages," he offered.
"It's not the money. Having me there would be like hiring someone to bomb your place. I'd mess up your files... everything. You are talking complete, total disaster."
"I can live with that.”
“Your company couldn’t. Your crew would quit.”
“I don’t think so. I don’t think you give yourself enough credit. After all, you can read.”
Ellen glared at him, silently railing against his stubbornness. He wasn't about to let anyone know he couldn't read. If she didn’t agree to take Donna's place, he'd go without. His world would come crashing down. And he'd probably blame her for not trying.
"You can be my office manager during the day and my tutor at night. We'll work in some days off, of course." He sounded confident.
Perhaps she should just ignore his request. "Are you going to see an optometrist?" she asked, trying a different tack.
"No."
She crossed her arms and stuck out her chin. "I can't teach you until we find out what's wrong."
"What does that have to do with working in the office?"
"Nothing. But I don't know how I can tutor you if you don’t. I told you that yesterday. And if you don’t, then that office job would turn out to be permanent."
He looked down, shaking his head, then raised his eyes to hers again. In them she read a final desperation. "I need help at the office." He opened his hands for emphasis. "Now. Otherwise, my brother will have to come back. He shouldn't be working. It could kill him. I'll be the joke of Seattle. Are those enough reasons for you? You're my only hope."
"I'm sorry, Jared." Ellen hadn't wanted to make him beg. His inability to read forced him to depend upon others for information, leaving him vulnerable in a way she could not imagine. She needed to help him, yet at what cost to her? "I... I'm just—"
"You're really scared of this, aren't you?" He sounded amazed, as if her fear had finally sunk in.
"Yes. Very."
"I'll tell you what. I’ll make a deal with you. You be my office manager, and, and..." He paused, staring at her grimly.
"Yes?" Ellen asked warily. There was nothing he could possibly say to convince her to take Donna's job. Nothing.
*10*
Ellen stared at Jared, the large foyer in his house closing in on them, the marble floors unyielding to their dilemma. She wondered what kind of deal he was considering, for she could think of no reason strong enough to make her work in an office. With no training, it would be a disaster.
He struggled with his words, almost as if they were being forced out against his will. "If you help me, I... I'll go get an eye exam. A complete one, like you want."
It was the
last thing Ellen had expected him to say, as she hadn’t linked his request with hers. He looked speculatively at her and Ellen’s defenses began to crumble.
"You will?" she asked slowly, fighting against wanting to agree. She would be crazy to do so.
"Yes. But only if you take Donna's job."
Ellen rubbed her hand across her eyes. It meant she would be with him all day, get to see where he worked, learn more about him... the pull to do so was irresistible. With the doctor's findings, she could focus on the real problem.
Her help in the office might take some of the pressure off him. Maybe he could relax more during their reading sessions. Maybe his office could survive in spite of her. Maybe she could cause all his employees to leave, throw him into bankruptcy, burn the place down, and give his brother another heart attack.
The last was more like it. She could mention it to him, but the determination in his voice told her he wouldn’t listen; he was set on having her take Donna’s place.
Ellen didn’t know the first thing about office procedure. After she got through messing things up, he would be as glad to get rid of her as he would a stray dog digging up his roses... but at least he’d get his eyes checked.
She stared at him; sighed. “You manipulate people, you know. You really ought not to do that.”
“It’s the way I survive. You, on the other hand, allow people to manipulate you. You shouldn’t do that.”
“Only with,” she started, then caught herself. She had started to say, ‘only with people I love,’ but since she had just allowed him to talk her into working in his office, that didn’t sound right. “Only when I want to be,” she corrected herself. It sounded better, but she knew it wasn’t true either. She should just keep quiet.
“What’s the verdict?” he asked.
"I’ll do it. You've got yourself an office manager for a couple of months.” A wide smile spread from his eyes to his mouth to his ears. “I hope we both don't live to regret it," she added, trying to warn him, but he looked like a kid in an ice cream factory, hired as a taster.
"Great. Be there tomorrow at eight. I'll give you the address."
Having achieved his goal, he waved her into the study, where they had one more frustrating session. Jared now knew how to use phonics to sound out words; but once they joined others on a page, he became lost. Unable to accomplish much more, they worked out for an hour in the weight room, then called it a day.
Ellen drove home feeling depressed, trapped... and inclined to turn around and tell him to forget the whole idea. Only his promise to see an optometrist—and the chance to work with him—kept her going.
The next morning rain clouds hung in a heavy gray mist, reducing visibility and making the roads slippery. It did nothing to lighten Ellen's mood as she fought through traffic, trying to reach the Lake Union address Jared had given her.
This was like having a toothache, but dreading to go to the dentist. She did not want to go, yet had to, to help Jared. She knew trouble lay ahead. His solution could only cause more problems.
She had spent last night practicing on her neighbor's computer, desperately trying to learn more. It had been time wasted. She didn’t understand the commands, and the keys and her fingers did not match. The harder she tried, the more errors she produced.
Ellen had gone to bed tired, but anxiety kept her awake until almost five. Consequently, she had staggered out of bed this morning, exhausted before she began.
Her stomach cemented itself into a hard ball; sick with worry. She hated taking on any task without being first trained for it. She felt doomed to failure.
Even allowing for the standstill rush-hour traffic, Ellen had not given herself enough time, pulling into the parking lot thirty minutes late. Rain trickled between the back of her light jacket and white blouse, and puddles soaked her medium-heeled shoes as she sprinted to shelter. She felt lucky she didn’t fall full-length into a puddle—but that could have given her an excuse to go home, and she almost wished she had.
The wooden building was the size and shape of a large warehouse, a full block in length; its tall, weather-beaten exterior exuding a rustic charm. The smaller office building, adjoining it on the street end, had a showroom in front displaying boat models and interior photos alongside photo collages of various yacht designs.
The thought of trying to do office work made Ellen sick, and she paused as she reached the door, dreading to go in. What had she agreed to? And why? She reminded herself of the benefits once more, resolutely turned the knob and stepped inside onto thick pile carpeting, a dark silver gray.
Jared had said the offices lay behind the showroom, and further back lay the manufacturing area. The smell of fresh-cut wood hung in the air, and a faint, high-pitched whine came from power equipment.
Crossing the carpet, Ellen looked through the open doorway into the main office. Utilitarian in layout, it nevertheless maintained an atmosphere of elegant good taste.
The middle-aged lady at the desk smiled warmly, the laugh wrinkles beginning to deepen around her mouth and eyes. A small, but competent-looking woman. No wonder Jared hated to lose her—she probably ran the entire operation.
Ellen stepped forward. "Hi. I'm Ellen Craig, here to work for Jared Steel," she announced, surprised that her voice had any volume at all. She even managed to sound confident.
"Hello. Good to see you. I'm Donna Petersen. I was hoping Jared wouldn't wait until the last minute to find someone. You can spell, can't you?" she asked with a look of hope.
"Oh, yes." It was probably the only thing she could do.
"Good. Jared doesn't like to have to correct anyone's spelling. It's one of the things he's insistent about."
"What else doesn't he like? I might as well learn right off."
"He doesn't like to be bothered with little things, but he won't mind you asking at first. He told me to take care of things and to only ask him if I'm uncertain."
"I'm afraid he'll get asked a lot of questions, then."
"Not too many. I've been sticking little notes on everything. They should help a lot. I'll show you where to put your things." Donna bustled across the room. "You'll have your own restroom. There are no other women in this outfit right now. We have plenty of female clients, though, so keep it sparkling."
She opened a door to a small but elegant washroom, complete with gold fixtures. "Jared knows how to make a woman happy. He had this redecorated soon after he joined the company. Richard never noticed."
"It's nicer than in many homes."
"Yes. The coat closet is behind this door."
Ellen hung her jacket beside Donna's. "I bet you hate to leave."
"Actually, I'd like to leave sooner, if I can. I'd forgotten how much trouble planning a wedding is. This is my second, but I have the same jitters I had the first time... and no mother handy to do all the extra running around for me. Clyde—that’s my fiancé—wanted me to turn it over to a wedding consultant and let them do all the work, but I like to do things myself. I gave Jared as much notice as possible, since I wanted to leave him in good hands before I left."
Good hands? Not hers. They alienated every machine they touched. Cringing at the knowledge, Ellen put her purse in the closet and followed Donna around the office.
"First, the copier. We use this model because we need duplicates of blueprints for our crews. It's a little more complicated than the ones you’re probably used to. It has a book of directions... here, which you may have to refer to now and then. I'll show you what to do. Jared has this down pat, so if you can't run it, ask him."
Ellen nodded, happy to hear that. Maybe machines liked him.
Donna pointed out the switches. "This thing takes time to learn, so don't expect to get it right for awhile. Now, the telephone switchboard is simple," she said, pointing to a console full of buttons. Each one had a location written next to it. "Here's a list of personnel, so you'll know where people can usually be found."
"Thanks. You look completely organized.
"
"I have to be. Even then, when I go on vacation, the temps manage to drop something or other."
Ellen mentally shuddered. If the temps had problems, she was dead. How much chaos could she create before Jared gave up and fired her?
Donna pointed to a stack of audio tapes. "These are blank. Richard usually gave me direct dictation, but Jared uses the Dictaphone for all correspondence."
"Good." She could use that machine to help her with the computer; stopping it at the end of each sentence—or more often—while she typed.
"You'll need to keep track of all his appointments. Even social engagements. He'll want you to remind him several times daily, as he doesn't bother keeping a duplicate in his office. Whenever he arranges anything, he checks with me first. It’s awkward, but I can’t get him to use one himself. Richard always took care of his own appointments."
Ellen nodded, then shuddered with trepidation, as Donna stopped at the filing cabinets.
"What method of filing did you learn?" Donna asked.
Oh, oh. First hurdle. "Uh... I don't remember the name."
"Well, I expect you'll shift things around if you have to."
"Could you, like, show me your system, just so I can see if you do it any differently?"
"Of course. Just don't let Jared file anything. You'll never find it again."
Will I do any better? Ellen wondered as Donna opened the top file drawer. She scanned the tops of the labels. "Customer names?"
"Yes. Customers in this cabinet, sub-contractors in this one and suppliers in these two over here. These contain contracts and other paperwork. Everything else is on the computer."
Ellen turned with dread towards Donna’s desk. The one-eyed instrument had always defied her. This one had two long narrow stacks—like little towers—sitting on the floor next to it. She didn't have a clue what they were for.
At that moment Jared opened the door of his office. Ellen felt a rush of pleasure as she met his gaze. A colorful necktie accented his suit—a dark charcoal. Drop-dead gorgeous. No wonder he sold lots of yachts.
"You can stop worrying," Donna told him cheerfully. "She's here."
He smiled brightly, said, "Great," and promptly closed the door.
