“I doubt it. We only met a few days ago.” Fascinated by the woman’s proprietary attitude after Jonas had assured her he was not involved with anyone, Lauren asked casually, “Have you and Jonas been seeing each other long?”
The beauty warmed a little more. “Oh, we’ve known each other forever. Jonas occasionally invites me out when he needs a partner, but I have never been able to talk him into letting me stay the night,” she confided.
Imagine that! Lauren’s admiration for Jonas soared. The woman was stunning, yet he had turned her down. Her voice still friendly, she said, “Jonas is in the den. Why don’t you have a seat, and I’ll let him know you are here.”
Lauren walked sedately down the hall. She entered the den, closed the door deliberately behind her, and holding both hands over her mouth, collapsed on the sofa. Her eyes were dancing.
The pained look on Jonas’ face was almost her undoing. The door into the den had been wide open. He must have heard every word. “Your turn,” she managed to get out.
He gave her an indescribable look.
“You knew who was on the doorstep, didn’t you?” she accused with a strangled giggle.
“I suspected. That’s why I instructed you to say I wasn’t available.” And with that he left the room, leaving the door ajar.
Lauren had no qualms about eavesdropping. She heard him say in a pleasant voice, “Elisabeth, what a pleasant surprise.”
The man had impeccable manners.
Before long, he came striding into the den. Lauren grinned. “That was quick. She couldn’t stay for dinner?” She had heard him politely invite Elisabeth to stay.
“I told her we were having crab. Elisabeth loathes crab.”
“Are we having crab?”
“No,” he answered succinctly and dropped down beside her. “But I was so anxious to get rid of her, it was the first thing that popped into my mind. So now, unless you want to go out for crab, on top of everything else, she has managed to make a liar out of me,” he said in disgust.
Lauren did not want to go out for crab. Being here with Jonas, especially when he looked so mortified, was far more appealing.
“Oh, Jonas, you should see your face. You look like you wish you were anywhere but here.”
“That obvious, huh? It is not cool for a man to tell a woman he loves her one minute and the next minute have another woman show up on his doorstep, uninvited, saying ridiculous things!”
“When the other woman is as gorgeous as Elisabeth, it’s hard to disagree,” Lauren said with humor. “It’s intimidating to find you know someone that beautiful, and who made it very clear she has a proprietorial interest in you.”
Jonas stared at her. Elisabeth gorgeous? In his opinion, Lauren’s enchanting face and intoxicating smile put her miles ahead of the ultra-sophisticated Elisabeth.
With a light shrug, he said. “Elisabeth is an old friend, a widow. Her husband was killed in an accident after just two years of marriage. She was devastated, as you can imagine, and because we were such old friends, she turned to me to help her through it. Then my grandfather died, and in an instant, my whole life changed. Elisabeth suggested we become more than friends.” He shrugged again. “I wasn’t interested.”
“Why not? She is beautiful.”
“She was more attracted to the inheritance than to me,” he said dryly.
Stupid woman! Lauren thought and asked, “When did your grandfather die?”
“About ten years ago.”
“And you were his heir?”
“Yes. I was his only grandchild.”
“And he was not a poor man,” Lauren guessed, remembering Elisabeth’s remark.
“No.” Jonas did not elaborate.
“Well, I won’t tell anyone. Your secret is safe with me.”
“It’s not a secret. The media made sure of that.”
“The media? Whatever for?”
Jonas sighed. He preferred not to talk about that period of his life. It had been a difficult and painful time. With the responsibilities of Juul Enterprises suddenly thrust upon him, there was hardly time for grieving. And inexplicably, he became the darling of the tabloids, resulting in his privacy being shot to pieces. Being a private person, he found it all thoroughly distasteful.
“My grandfather was quite well known in business, social, and sailing circles,” he explained. “He had accumulated a certain amount of wealth, and his death was sudden and unexpected.”
“That must have been a burden at twenty-six,” said Lauren softly. There was empathy in her voice, and he wondered where she had gained such wisdom at her age.
“It was hell,” he admitted. “In addition to running the business I had to deal with the tabloids. According to a criminally incompetent reporter, I had suddenly become one of the country’s most eligible bachelors.”
He sounded so disgusted Lauren couldn’t hide a smile.
He gave her a reluctant grin. “I’m glad you find it amusing. I didn’t see the humor in it at the time. I consented to an interview about my grandfather’s life and passing. I even agreed to discuss the future of the business and my role in it. But walking past a magazine stand and seeing my face plastered on the front cover of a prominently displayed rag, and with that ridiculous caption . . .” Jonas shook his head in remembered disgust.
“And what about now, all these years later? Is it still a problem?”
“I learned to keep a low profile, and eventually they lost interest in me. I haven’t made the tabloids in years, so my face is pretty anonymous these days.”
Yet he felt a need to protect her from speculation.
Half teasing, she said, “I don’t think so. Some of the church members knew who you were.”
He seemed amused. “You introduced me, remember? My name is more familiar than my face.”
“No, they recognized you before that,” she insisted. “I wondered why everyone was staring at me when we arrived for sacrament meeting. It wasn’t me they were staring at, it was you!”
With a lopsided grin, he said, “Was it?”
She gave his arm a playful tap. “You know it was. You are not as anonymous as you seem to think.”
“Apparently not.”
“Does that bother you?”
Again, he shrugged lightly, but he smiled. “I rarely think about it these days. But ten years ago, at the height of the tabloid idiocy? I was definitely paranoid.”
“My grandfather could probably relate. My grandmother told me when she and my grandfather were dating, people would often approach him and ask for his autograph. He was shy, and the attention made him uncomfortable.” Lauren laughed softly. “Sound familiar?”
“I can relate to feeling uncomfortable, but no one asked for my autograph. That would have been beyond ridiculous. I was a businessman, Lauren, not a celebrity.”
“Were you shy?”
He laughed. “No. Irritated. Severely irritated. The stories about me were so exaggerated I hardly recognized my own life, especially when they began speculating about my social life. They had me romantically linked to women I had never heard of or barely knew. I didn’t read past the first couple of articles.”
“Were there many?”
“A series of them over a period of time.”
“Well,” said Lauren philosophically, “look on the bright side. Your early adulthood was chronicled for you.”
When Jonas rolled his eyes, she clarified. “Our family has a huge, ancient scrapbook full of news clips, pictures, and fawning articles about my grandfather’s athletic career. There are also dozens of medals and silver cups he won over the years. I spent hours going through the scrapbook and looking at the medals and cups when I was younger. It helped me get to know the grandfather I never met.”
When he didn’t say anything but simply wrapped his arms around her, she sai
d with a smile in her voice, “When you are old and crotchety, you can scroll through those ancient, hated tabloids online and chuckle while you reminisce. Your grandchildren will love it.”
Jonas didn’t join in her laughter. Instead, he buried his face in her silky, fragrant hair, amazed at her ability to find something positive, something to smile about, in what had at the time been a humiliating experience for him. With just a few simple words, she had helped heal old wounds and made everything seem right in his world. He wondered what he had done to deserve her, what fates had brought them together at this time.
He must have spoken the last few words aloud because in the softest of voices Lauren said, “It wasn’t fate that brought me here, Jonas. It was God.”
He didn’t respond for several moments, just held her. Finally, in a low voice, he said, “What did you say?”
“I said it wasn’t fate that brought me here, it was God. He wanted us to meet.”
Jonas’ lips curved gently at the certainty in her voice. “Did He? How do you know?”
“If I tell you, will you promise not to make fun of me?”
“I won’t make fun of you,” he promised solemnly.
“When my Aunt Nina first emailed all of us about you, her information was very sketchy. She didn’t include any personal details, only that we were very distantly related. So, even though I knew little about you, I had a strong feeling that I should come and meet you. I hadn’t planned a trip here this year. I was going to explore coastal Maine with a couple of friends. But I canceled and came here instead because I had to know why God wanted us to meet.”
He did not laugh, but gently cupped her face, and seeing the love in her eyes, said, “You are the most remarkable person I have ever known.”
“My Aunt Nina said you found us because you had an interest in family history, so I thought you were probably an older man, perhaps a grandfather around my parents’ age. I hoped you had children close to my age and that we’d hit it off. That would give me the perfect excuse to return to Norway more often.”
Laughter rippled through him. “Grandfather? Is that why you looked so uncertain when we first met?”
“Probably. You didn’t fit my image of you at all.” She looked at him with melting eyes. “Not that I am complaining. After all, I now have the best reason in the world to return.”
Chapter Seven
Late afternoon slipped into evening. After a pleasant, leisurely stroll along the harbor Lauren and Jonas headed back to the apartment for an evening meal.
“This is very good,” Jonas said as he spooned out a second helping of the salad Lauren had put together.
“And the meat is perfect,” Lauren complimented him. “We did all right, didn’t we?”
“We make a good team,” he agreed and took a sip of his drink. “Not bad!”
“Fake wine,” Lauren grinned. She had made sparkling grape juice for them by mixing white grape juice and Sprite, a favorite drink of the Hart family.
Jonas smiled and took another sip. “I’ll have to remember to request this the next time I’m in a restaurant. Maybe they would consider keeping a couple of bottles on hand for me.”
They laughed at the improbability of that and chatted companionably throughout the meal until Lauren said, “So, can we talk about Elisabeth?”
Jonas’ eyebrows shot up. He hadn’t given Elisabeth a single thought since she left the apartment. “What more do you want to know?”
“I think she is probably a nice person or you wouldn’t take her out.”
He nodded, amused by her interest. “Elisabeth and I have known each other since we were sixteen. There hasn’t been a special lady in my life for some time, so when I’ve needed a partner for business or social functions, she has been kind enough to accompany me.”
“She may have been influenced by the inheritance in the past, but she is in love with you now,” said Lauren delicately.
Jonas looked mildly interested. “And how did you reach that conclusion?”
“From talking with her. At first, when she thought I was a rival, she was rude. But when I explained I was family, she no longer saw me as a threat and became much friendlier.”
“And from that you deduced she is in love with me?”
“Jonas,” said Lauren patiently, “a woman who looks like Elisabeth wouldn’t spend years of her life settling for crumbs if she didn’t love you. She is beautiful.”
Dismissing her remark, Jonas leaned back in his chair, folded his arms and looked at her. “When I knew you were coming here,” he said, “I entertained the idea of inviting you, along with a few friends, to a weekend on the island.” He paused a moment, his eyes never leaving her face. “And then we met. I realized I didn’t want to share you with half a dozen of my friends, I wanted to get to know you one on one. The invitations were never issued.” He reached across the table and ran a finger gently down her cheek. “Remember when you felt sorry for me because I don’t have a wife and family?”
Lauren looked at him. “I didn’t say exactly . . .”
“You didn’t have to,” he cut in. “The expression on your face said it for you. I tried to picture Elisabeth in that role as she was the only woman I had taken out in a while. Then I looked at you and I couldn’t remember what Elisabeth looked like.”
Lauren’s eyebrows furrowed.
“Yours is the only face I see, Lauren,” he said gently. “You’ll have to learn to live with that. It isn’t going to change.”
“Poor Elisabeth,” was all she said.
Jonas struggled to keep a straight face. Only Lauren would worry about his lack of feelings for another woman. He knew Elisabeth had no illusions about him. She knew he cared about her, but only as a friend. It was time to change the conversation.
“Ready for dessert?”
Lauren shook her head and patted her tummy. “No. I’m too full, but you go ahead.”
“I’ll wait.” He pushed his chair back and stood up. “Will you play the piano while I clean up?”
“You don’t want help?”
“There isn’t much. I’d rather listen to you play.”
“All right,” she said, getting to her feet. “Any special requests?”
“No, you choose something.”
Lauren glanced through the music. Most of it was old and well-used. Then she spotted a familiar looking, spiral-bound little songbook. Inside was an inscription in a childish hand:
To Jonas!
I got a new one for my baptism so I thought you might like to have this one in case someday you have kids and want to teach them Primary songs.
Love from Nora
She pulled the book out and looked at Jonas. There were so many layers to him. With songbook in hand, she got up and crossed to the kitchen. Leaning on the counter, she asked, “How do you come to have this little number in your music collection?”
“Oh.” He grinned. “Courtesy of Nora Andrews, oldest daughter of Jake and Allison. She’s twelve now. I attended her blessing when she was a baby, but I couldn’t make it to her baptism so she included me this way. She’s a sweet girl.”
Lauren looked at him thoughtfully. He accepts invitations to blessings and baptisms. He attends church and is perfectly comfortable there. Who are you, Jonas?
Still thoughtful, she took the songbook and returned to the piano. Skimming through its pages, she chose one of her favorite numbers and began to play.
As he watched her fingers move effortlessly across the keys, Jonas knew he would never look at the piano again without seeing her there. He wiped his hands on a towel and walked across the room.
Lauren felt his arms come around her from behind. She stopped playing, tipped her head back, and smiled into his eyes.
“Hi!”
He buried his face in her hair. “Hi.”
“Is it time t
o take me home?”
“Is that what you want?”
“No. But we have spent the last thirty or so daytime hours together, and you must be a little tired of me by now.”
He kissed the top of her head. “I’m not tired of you,” he said, his arms still around her. “Come into the den while I check my messages, then we can decide how we want to spend the rest of the evening.”
While Jonas checked his emails, Lauren perused his wall of books. His collection catered to every taste in several different languages. She had covered almost three shelves when next to the Bible she spotted a familiar-looking little blue book. She pulled it out. It still looked brand new, and when she opened it, the pages were crisp and pristine. The book had never been read.
Unobtrusively, she borrowed a sticky note and a pen from Jonas’ desk, and with book, note, and pen in hand settled on the sofa. She wrote a short note and placed it inside the front cover before skimming through the book. She located the passage she was looking for and underlined it. Then, waiting for Jonas to finish, she began reading.
Jonas spent more time than he intended catching up on emails. Glancing across the room to see how Lauren was doing, his heart turned over. She had fallen asleep, her hands neatly folded over an open book. Could anything be more precious than Lauren asleep, he wondered, unaware of the tender smile touching his lips.
He forced himself to return to the screen but gave up after a while. How could he concentrate on business when his heart and mind were filled with her? He walked over, sat down by her side, and simply looked at her. Wasn’t it something, he thought, that she was so unaware of her own beauty? His eyes ran lovingly over every feature, beginning with her eyebrows—medium brown and gently curved. Perfect. Her eyelashes, so long they cast shadows on her cheeks, were more than perfect, and her eyes? Well, no one had eyes more beautiful than Lauren’s. Her flawless complexion, the shape of her lips, her pretty chin. He wouldn’t change a thing. But what captivated him most of all was the essential Lauren: her joyful spirit, her natural affection, her sense of fun, her goodness, and her graciousness.
Because of Lauren: A Love Story Page 8
