by Rachel Hauck
“I take it your response wasn’t ‘Yeah, let’s go!’”
Will laughed. “No. I didn’t say anything for a long time. Too long. Finally, I babbled something about going to grad school. Never told her I loved her. Or that I would like to marry her someday. She jumped out of the car, ran inside, and the next day she was gone.”
Bobby stood next to him on the edge of the bridge, shining the flashlight across the barren treetops. “And you didn’t go after her?”
Will mumbled, “No,” then added, “I thought I would, eventually. Eventually never came.”
“You are one lucky man.” Bobby shone the flashlight on Will’s face. “Somehow, ten years later, eventually came to you.”
Taylor knocked on Will’s office door. “Taylor Hanson reporting for work.”
Will hopped up, sloshing coffee over the rim of his cup. “Good morning. Come in.”
The heels of her designer pumps thudded against the hardwood floor.
Will regarded her for a moment. “You look nice,” he said with a low whistle. “A little overkill, but very nice.”
Taylor ran her hand down the front of her five-hundred-dollar suit. “This is a professional arrangement, is it not?”
Their eyes met, and she wondered if he could see right through her to her rapidly beating heart.
Will stuttered. “Of course, but you don’t need an expensive suit to impress the bosses around here.”
She cleared her throat and glanced at the floor. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Why did it seem as if they were talking about more than her job at Lambert’s Furniture?
“Let me show you to your office.”
Taylor followed Will. He introduced her to some of the administrative and financial staff, though she already knew most of them.
“Markie, good to see you.” Taylor shook the hand of her old friend.
“Taylor, welcome home.”
“Well, home for now.” She felt shy about admitting her career failure. No matter how wonderful home might feel, it was a temporary stop.
“Here you go.” Will opened the door, and Taylor stepped into a large, windowed office with a long, polished mahogany desk surrounded by old leather chairs. And in the corner, a stone fireplace beckoned.
“Will, it’s beautiful.”
“It’s the old conference room. When we added the south wing we built a new one.”
Taylor set her shoulder bag on the desk. “Are you sure you want me in here? This looks like a CEO’s office.”
Will perched on the desk’s edge. “It’s your office now. By the way, I didn’t have time to get you any equipment.” He motioned around the room. “No computer.”
“I’m going to need one of those.” Taylor winked at him, her hands on her hips. She liked being here, though the idea of being near Will both thrilled and terrified her. How he’d captivated her heart after all these years mystified her.
“We have about five thousand in the capital budget for a computer and software purchases, so—”
“That’s a good start. But save that extra money for training. All I need is a fast computer and a connection to the Internet.”
“We can handle that.” Will pulled out a chair and sat, then brought Taylor up to speed on their business plan and how a new system fit into their strategy.
“I think HBS is a good choice, Will. I just want to make sure you don’t get stuck with a bunch of modules you don’t need,” Taylor said when he finished.
She pulled her data assistant out of her case and made a note. “I know a few businesses who use HBS. I can give them a call.”
Will nodded. “Bobby’s been talking to an HBS sales rep, so you should get with him.”
Taylor agreed, making more notes. “We should get them in here for a demo again and talk about your needs.”
“Taylor, take the lead on this. Just tell us when and where.”
Taylor tipped her head to one side. “I will. I’ll get with Markie to see how things flow in the office and design a workflow and project plan. I can do that while I’m waiting for my computer to arrive.”
Will was grinning at her.
“What?” she said.
“I like this side of you. Very in command.”
She stared at him. If only he knew her insides were quivering like cold gelatin and if she weren’t sitting in his place of business she’d want to kiss him. She cleared her throat and shook the image from her mind. “I’ll need a computer to order my computer.”
Will laughed. “My office.”
Taylor scratched Harry’s ears as she took Will’s desk chair. He sniffed her shoes and wagged his tail.
Will gathered a stack of papers. “I’ll be in the conference room.”
She swallowed and smiled. “And I’ll be here.”
He paused at the door. “Markie is drawing up your contract. I researched the going consultant rates, but if it’s too low, let me know.”
Taylor waved off his remark. “I’m sure it’s a fair wage.” Besides, she wasn’t really doing this for the money.
He nodded, grinned, and left. She slumped down in his chair, the aroma of clean soap floating around her. I can’t do this, Lord. I can’t. I’m falling in love with him.
Harry nudged her leg as if he understood her thoughts. Taylor stroked his head and sighed.
For the tenth time in ten minutes, Will read the last line of their contract with Martin Leslie & Company. Thoughts of Taylor seemed way more intriguing than a distributor’s contract.
He glanced at his watch. Ten o’clock. The coffeepot in the corner sat empty. Will shoved away from the conference table and dug in his pocket for change to get coffee from the production floor vending machine. No, no, what he needed was a cup of Peri’s rich, special blend.
He headed to his office for his keys, suspecting he wanted an excuse to see Taylor more than he wanted a cup of Peri’s best. But his chair was empty and disappointment twanged in his chest. He reached for his jacket and called to Harry. “Let’s go for a ride.”
Outside, early November snowflakes surprised him. It was too early for snow. But soft white flakes floated down over him. Then he heard screaming and … giggling?
He stepped to the side of the building, and there was Taylor, in her fancy periwinkle blue suit, catching snowflakes on her tongue with Markie.
Will guffawed. Harry barked.
“Laugh at us, will you?” Markie lobbed a tiny, powdery snowball at Will. It fell apart in midair.
Will laughed harder while Harry ran in circles, barking.
Out of nowhere, Taylor shouted, “Charge!” and ran for Will.
He tried to run, but his loafers provided no traction. Before he knew it, Taylor grabbed his collar and slipped an icy concoction down his back.
“Ahh! Cold. Cold.” He whipped around, grasping at her.
She tried to escape, but running in heels proved impossible. She slipped, arms flailing. Will scooped her up in his arms just as his feet slipped out from under him. They went sprawling to the ground.
Unable to stop laughing, Markie stood over them, shivering, her hands grasping her waist. “I haven’t done this since I was about ten, Taylor. Thanks, but I’m wet, freezing, and going inside.”
Will helped Taylor to her feet.
“Ouch. I hurt,” he said.
She laughed, adding, “I think I twisted my ankle.”
He looked into her green eyes. “Are you okay?”
She nodded, dusting white powder from her suit. Her feet slipped again, and she fell against him. With her face inches from his, their eyes met.
He cleared his throat and stepped away, holding her steady with one hand on her elbow. “Can you stand?”
She jerked her suit jacket into place and smoothed her wet hair. “I think so.” She hiccupped a giggle.
Will felt lost in time and space. He couldn’t breathe. “You need help to the door?” he croaked. The moment was charged with emotion.
“I should change my clothe
s.” She inched forward slowly. “So much for impressing the bosses.”
“I can drive you home.” He pulled his keys from his pocket and pushed the remote access button. The alarm chirped and the lights flashed.
“No, thanks. I’ll take my car.”
He started to protest, but one look told him her guard was up. “Would you like me to bring back coffee from Peri’s?” She paused at the door.
“Yes, thank you. A large fat-free latte?”
He nodded, striking the air with keys in hand. “One fat-free latte.”
ten
As the gray day faded to black, a fresh snow fell. Taylor glanced at her watch then massaged the back of her neck.
“Calling it a night?” Will stood in her doorway.
“I guess so. It’s six thirty. I’m getting a little hungry.”
“Can I buy you dinner?”
Taylor shook her head. It took her most of the afternoon to get rid of the image of him holding her, a dusting of snow on his head and shoulders. “Mom has lasagna waiting.”
Will’s eyes widened with a twinkle. “Trixie makes a mean lasagna.”
Taylor shut down her laptop, which she’d brought from home to use for the afternoon. Her parents would love to see him. But she’d made it clear they were just friends. If they kept hanging around together, everything would get confused.
But when she looked up at him, she said, “I’m sure Mom wouldn’t mind setting another plate.”
Clicking off the office light, Taylor walked with Will to her car. She dropped her laptop into the passenger seat, then regarded him for a moment. “Thank you. For the job.”
“You’re welcome.” He slipped his arm around her waist.
Her back stiffened, and she pressed her hands against his chest. Though, inside, she felt like a toasted marshmallow. “I guess we’d better get going.”
“Taylor, I …” He looked into her eyes, tipped his head, then slowly touched his lips to hers, tenderly but with passion.
The kiss ended too soon. Caught up in the moment, Taylor couldn’t speak. She cleared her throat and muttered, “Wow.”
He laughed and kissed her forehead. “Is that a good wow?”
She stepped around him and slipped into her car. “See you at the house.”
“Yeah, see you there,” Will said, shutting her door shut and walked to his truck. In the side mirror, she watched him, tears stinging in her eyes. She couldn’t love him again. She wouldn’t.
She cried for several minutes; then she pulled herself together and drove home. But by the time she parked in the driveway, her tears had given way to ire.
Will parked his truck behind her. She jerked open the car door and stepped out.
“Don’t you ever kiss me like that again,” she said, pointing at Will as he walked toward her.
He didn’t flinch. “I meant that kiss.”
In the porch light, she could see the solid lines of his face. His warm breath smelled like mints. “I don’t care what you meant, Will. Don’t ever, ever kiss me like that again.”
“I’m in love with you.” He settled against her car.
In the cold, her voice rang out like bells. “Ha! In love with me? You’re not in love with me; you’re in love with a memory.”
“No, I’m in love with you. Always have been.”
She laughed, slapping her hand on her forehead. “Oh, right, I forgot. You wanted to marry me, but I said no. Then you chased me all over New York begging me to reconsider. But finally, you gave up and came home to run Lambert’s Furniture.”
He straightened away from the car. “Good night.” He pulled his keys out of his pocket.
“Where are you going?”
“Home.”
Taylor trembled, but not from the cold or the snow gathering on her hair and shoulders. His control irritated her. Deep down, she wanted him to fight this out—to fight for her.
“I loved you.” She gestured at him with her arm.
He walked back toward her. “I was—am—in love with you, but I wasn’t ready for marriage ten years ago. Neither were you.”
“Then why didn’t you say something?”
His jaw muscle tightened. “I thought it would be better left unsaid.”
She growled and turned away, her hands balled into fists. “It took me three years to stop thinking of you night and day. Every man I dated I compared to you.”
“I never stopped thinking about you.”
She whirled around. “Then why are we here on the other side of a decade? Why didn’t you call or write or stop by when I came home for a visit? It’s not like I lived on the other side of the country or the other side of the world.”
He reached for her. “I don’t know. But, Taylor, you’re here now, and I know what I want. Let’s get it right in this decade.”
“It’s too late,” she whispered.
The front door opened, and Mom stepped into a sliver of yellow light. “Will, Taylor, come in, dinner’s waiting.”
Will touched her cheek lightly with the back of his hand. “I’ll go on home.”
Taylor touched his hand. “Don’t go.” She rubbed her forehead with her cold fingers. “If you leave, Mom will ask a million questions.”
Will chuckled wryly. “I suppose the tension between us won’t make her suspicious at all.”
“Trixie Hanson will be so glad to have you at her table she won’t notice.” Taylor reached into the BMW’s backseat for her laptop case and handbag.
Will followed her up the walkway. “This conversation isn’t over.”
Taylor murmured, “No, I guess it isn’t.”
When the hallway clock cuckooed at nine, Will stood, declared Grant the king of chess, and said, “I need to go home while I still have some dignity.”
Grant slapped his knee. “I was about to checkmate.”
Will grinned. “I know.”
Taylor watched from the chaise chair where she sat curled up with the New York Times and the Boston Globe.
“Anything interesting?” Will asked, stopping by her chair.
Grant walked past, calling to his wife, “Trixie, Will’s leaving.”
Taylor answered without looking up. “Lots of things. Mostly keeping up on the stock market.”
Will moved the folded front page of the Times so he could sit on the arm of the chair. “I’m sorry—”
“It was lovely to have you tonight, Will.” Trixie held out his coat, her perfect smile lighting her petite face.
“Thank you, Trixie. Dinner was delicious.”
“Oh, let me wrap up some for you to take home.” She handed Will’s coat to her husband and bustled out of the family room toward the kitchen.
Grant gave Will his coat. “I think I’ll get some ice cream,” he said and left the room.
Will considered his next words to Taylor since he was sure he only had a few seconds before Grant and Trixie returned. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“I know you didn’t.”
He looked across the room. “So, where does this leave us?”
“I don’t know.”
“Here you go, Will.” Trixie handed him a square plastic container.
“You spoil me,” he said, taking the lasagna and giving her a light hug. “Thank you.”
“You’ve been so good to Grant.” She stood perfectly straight, her hands clasped together.
“We like to take care of our family.”
Grant hollered from the kitchen, “I can’t find the ice cream scoop.” Trixie excused herself.
Taylor stared in the direction of the kitchen. “Dad’s addicted to ice cream. It’s his kryptonite.”
Will pulled on his coat. “I probably fell in love with you over a scoop of chocolate in a sugar cone.”
“I suppose so,” she said.
He wondered when she fell in love with him but didn’t ask. “Would you like to get some ice cream?” She looked up. “Now?” He shrugged. “Sure.”
She shook her head
. “It’s late—and snowing. I’ll pass.”
He nodded. “See you tomorrow then?”
“Yes.” Taylor flipped the edges of the newspaper.
“When are you …” He stopped.
“Going to dinner with Jordan?”
He nodded.
“Friday.”
“Good night, Taylor,” he said, turning to leave then paused. “See you tomorrow.”
She looked at him. “Yes, see you tomorrow.”
Driving home, Will prayed, sorry his kiss caused such a quarrel. But he loved her. He knew that now, and he wouldn’t give up until she loved him, too.
Jordan tried too hard, in Taylor’s opinion. He reeked of cologne, his hair glistened with too much gel, and his normally graceful gait looked stiff and robotic.
He stared straight ahead the entire movie, and when they left the theater with hordes of other White Birch citizens, they walked to his car in silence.
Where was the fun, relaxed Jordan from the football game?
“Sorry about the mess,” he said, moving more of his football gear to the backseat. A teacher, Jordan used his car as an office, or so it seemed to Taylor.
“What subjects do you teach?”
“I teach Phys Ed, of course, and I coach. I also teach a couple of history classes. I’m a little bit of a buff, as they say.”
“What’s your favorite historical time?” Taylor asked, settling in the passenger seat. The hinge moaned and squeaked as Jordan shoved the passenger door closed.
“World War One. It’s an interesting time in world history,” Jordan said when he got in his side of the car. “I’ve always loved the mystique behind Teddy Roosevelt.”
“Yes, he’s a fascinating man.”
He placed his arm between the bucket seats, his right hand on the headrest behind her, and stared at her for a second. Taylor fidgeted with her hands and wished he’d start the engine.
She thought he might kiss her, so she moved back an inch.
He touched her shoulder and asked, “Where to now?”
She shrugged and quickly glanced at the dash clock. Nine thirty. “Where would you like to go?” She hated to suggest home already.
“Peri’s Perk is a fun place on Friday nights. Lots of the town folks out, and there’s usually a guitar player.” She smiled. “Sounds good.”
