Because of Lauren: A Love Story

by Vivi Underwood

  The first one introduced his modern-day readers to yesteryear’s young athletic hero, Erik Hjellestad. Simon had done some research, she realized, as she read about her grandfather’s athletic and professional successes, many of them already familiar to Lauren. Simon Berg, she discovered, was a storyteller. He had even included her mother’s memories of growing up in Norway and later the move to America. She realized with a shock that Simon Berg must have contacted her mother for an interview, either by phone or email. It was the only way he could have known so much about the family’s private life.

  In conclusion, Simon cleverly segued into the present, younger generation: the American grandchildren of Erik Hjellestad and one Lauren Hart in particular. Lauren laughed when he referred to the charming, young Manhattan business executive he had met and written about in an earlier column, not knowing she was the late ship owner’s granddaughter. Lauren had no idea he had based a column on that meeting. No one had thought to tell her.

  The second column touched on Jonas’ grandparents, particularly his well-known and highly respected grandfather, and the close relationship that had existed between grandfather and grandson. Simon wrote sympathetically of Jonas’ horror at finding himself a target of the tabloids upon his grandfather’s death and his desire to protect his privacy as much as possible. The quote read: ‘Mr. Juul frequently makes himself available for business interviews, but unlike his gregarious grandfather, he is a very private person and draws the line at questions about his personal life, which, of course, has made the dashing and elusive Jonas Juul an even more fascinating subject to those of us who have followed his many successes in business over the years.’

  Simon covered the human side of Jonas masterfully as he shared with his readers Jonas’ curiosity about his family tree after the death of his beloved grandmother and how that triggered an interest in genealogical research. As searching out one’s ancestors had become one of the country’s most popular hobbies in recent years, Lauren thought this column might pique the readers’ interest, particularly because Simon Berg included Jonas’ years of persistent research and his surprising discovery of a large extended family in America.

  In the third article Simon related Lauren’s first visit to Norway at the age of eighteen, her love for her mother’s native land, and her subsequent visits. Seamlessly woven together was Jonas’ first contact with Nina Hjellestad Reynolds, Nina emailing her niece in New York, and Lauren’s desire to meet this unknown, distant relative.

  Lauren chuckled as she read about her impending visit from Jonas’ point of view. He had pictured a nice, motherly woman in her forties.

  And I showed up, thought Lauren, and laughed softly to herself.

  Her eyes were damp when she read, again from Jonas’ point of view, of his first reaction to her and how he had known, from the moment she hugged him so exuberantly, that she would become important to him.

  The fourth column was precious to Lauren. It was a love story—their story. Written with great sensitivity, Jonas’ love for, and pride in, Lauren simply oozed off the printed page. And she suddenly understood why Elisabeth, who had deluded herself into believing Jonas loved her, came unhinged.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Jonas was preparing to leave the office when there was a knock on his door, and Sverre Lie poked his head in. Jonas motioned for him to enter.

  “I don’t want to see you here tomorrow,” Sverre said bluntly. “I’ll handle the details. Your wife deserves more than a three-day honeymoon.”

  Jonas looked at him with gratitude. The worst of the crisis had been dealt with. He was comfortable leaving the rest to Sverre. “I deserve more than a three-day honeymoon,” he countered. “Pretend you have no way of contacting me for the next week. Unless someone decides to blow up the factory.”

  Sverre shook his head. “Don’t tempt fate. Now, go make Lauren happy!”

  Jonas smiled his thanks. “That’s the plan. See you at the end of next week!”

  He almost sprinted across town in his eagerness to get home to Lauren.

  He found her on the computer, deeply engrossed. A minute later, she leaned back in her chair and stretched her back and arms then gingerly touched the wounds on her right arm with a finger. “I can’t believe I didn’t sock her!” she muttered to herself.

  Neither could he, thought Jonas, as he watched her from the doorway. He admired her restraint at the time and wondered how she had managed it. “Hi,” he said softly, so as not to startle her. “You found a way to stay occupied. Good!”

  Lauren turned around and shot out of the chair. Throwing herself into his arms, she said, “You are back much sooner than I expected. I haven’t given dinner a thought yet.”

  Jonas silenced her with a long kiss. “I’ll take you out to dinner. Later!”

  “I love you, Lauren.” Jonas’ voice was quiet but firm, as were the arms that held her. Her head rested comfortably on his chest, and she could hear the steady beat of his heart. Heaven couldn’t be any better than this, she thought.

  She lifted her head just enough to be able to look at him. His eyes were closed, but the look on his face was pure contentment. “It’s a good thing I didn’t follow your advice.”

  His eyes remained closed, but a faint smile flitted across his lips. “Oh?”

  “You said to marry the next man who asked me. If I had listened to you, we wouldn’t be here together.”

  Lauren felt the rumble of laughter against her cheek. “My darling wife, I was the next man who asked you! I’m glad you took my advice.”

  They remained quiet until Jonas finally said, “I owe you dinner. Hungry?”

  “Yes, come to think of it.”

  “Want to get dressed up or is casual all right?”

  “Casual, please.”

  “Good. What kind of food are you in the mood for?”

  “Chinese?”

  “Chinese sounds good,” he agreed, then seeing her arms, gently fingered a scratch. “Do they still hurt?”

  “Not too bad. I’m wearing long sleeves tonight, though.”

  “Good idea. I’ll check them again before we go to bed tonight.”

  “Wear comfortable shoes,” Jonas suggested later as Lauren put the finishing touches to her appearance. “We’re walking. The restaurant isn’t far away.”

  “I will.” She slid her feet into pretty flats, the style and color perfectly complimenting her tailored slacks and the stylish, long-sleeved top she had chosen. She glanced up at Jonas and held out her arms. “Does this look okay or do my bandages show through?”

  Jonas thought she looked lovely. And she did it with so little effort. Her hair shone, her eyes sparkled, and her smile was for him alone. She had gone light on the makeup, which suited her, and the outfit screamed ‘Lauren’.

  “I can’t see a single bandage,” he said and pulled her close. “You look beautiful.”

  She looked at him. He was dressed casually in slacks and a crisp, long-sleeved, open-necked shirt. His hair was neatly combed, not tousled as it so often was on the island, and he only had eyes for her. She thought he looked beautiful, too, and told him so.

  It felt good to walk openly across town holding hands with Lauren. His heart was light, his step was light, and even his laugh was light as he chuckled at a comment she made. He wondered why he had denied himself the pleasure of just being himself all these years, why he hadn’t thumbed his nose at the tabloids. If Lauren had been in his life back then, he knew she would have laughed off the silliness of it and would have urged him to go about his life as usual. In retrospect, he wondered if that’s what he should have done.

  The restaurant was within easy walking distance. Jonas had never eaten there before. He had always thought it too public. But it had a good reputation, and Lauren wanted Chinese.

  Their meal had just arrived when a familiar voice rippled over Lauren’s r
ight shoulder. “So, this is where you escaped to. I thought you’d be on your honeymoon at some exotic spot in the Indian Ocean by now.”

  Lauren turned her head, then smiled in delight. Jonas, too, couldn’t hide a smile. The young man was obviously fond of Lauren.

  “Marius! How nice to see you! Come and meet my husband.”

  Jonas stood and shook hands as Lauren comfortably introduced the two men.

  And wondered where a rumor about the Indian Ocean got its start.

  “We were on our honeymoon but something came up, and we had to make a mad dash back,” she explained easily.

  Marius smiled apologetically at Jonas. “I hope you don’t mind the interruption. Lauren’s been our sailing buddy for over ten years, and I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but we’ve all been a little in love with her at various times. You’re a lucky man.”

  Jonas’ glance strayed to Lauren then back to Marius. He did not mask his feelings. “Yes, I am,” he agreed. “Very lucky.”

  The look was not lost on Marius. “I’ll let you get on with your meal,” he said. “Good to meet you.”

  Jonas gave him a warm smile. “Good to meet you, Marius.”

  “Nice young man,” he said when they resumed their meal.

  “Not so very young,” replied Lauren with a smile. “A couple of years younger than you.”

  “But attractive,” he suggested.

  Lauren shrugged her shoulders. “I guess. I never thought about it. To me, he was always just one of the guys.”

  “Ah!”

  She looked at him closely. “You are not jealous, are you?” she asked.

  Jonas reached across the table for her hand and stroking it gently, replied, “No, my darling wife, not jealous at all. Just very blessed.”

  As they left the restaurant, his phone rang. Jonas ignored the call and turned to Lauren. “How about an evening stroll before heading home.”

  “I’d love to,” she said. “As long as you don’t mind.”

  He leaned down and kissed her lightly. “I don’t object to being seen with my wife. In fact, I’m discovering I love being seen with my wife,” he smiled. “What I loathed was the sudden curiosity about my personal life. I was not a public figure. I was twenty-six and unattached. I should have been able to take a woman out without it causing widespread speculation.”

  “So, you started hiding?”

  “No, not hiding,” he said, “But I was careful about where I went and what I did. And with whom I was seen. I had a group of very loyal friends, and I started entertaining at home more. And during the summer, we spent a lot of weekends on the island. Eventually interest in me died down, but by then I had learned to be careful. I was never a party animal, and I had a demanding business to run, so my life didn’t change that much.” He looked down at her and smiled. “Until you came along.”

  Their walk led them along Torgallmenning Square and up Engen toward Den Nationale Scene, Bergen’s venerable performing arts venue, affectionately known simply as The Theater. The elegant old building stood majestically at the top of a gentle incline, very impressive with its prominent green roof and sturdy stone walls.

  In the shadow of The Theater, Jonas pulled her close.

  “I think we’d better make our way home,” Lauren whispered against his lips. “Before we draw a crowd.”

  His phone rang again, but he ignored it as he had all evening. Reluctantly he released her. He couldn’t believe how much he had changed in the last few weeks. Showing affection in public was something he never did, yet with Lauren, it came quite naturally. Smiling wryly, he gave her one last kiss and reached for her hand. “Let’s go home.”

  It was almost dark by the time they reached their building. Lauren missed the light nights of early summer but considering Jonas’ romantic bent this evening, it was probably a good thing August evenings turned dark sooner.

  Once inside their apartment, Jonas drew Lauren into his arms again. Just before their lips met, she said, “Shouldn’t you check your calls. You have been ignoring your phone all evening.”

  “I’ve been enjoying an evening out with my wife,” he corrected. “If it’s important they’ll leave a voice mail or try again later.”

  “Possibly. But check, okay?”

  “I’d rather go to bed.”

  Lauren giggled softly. “We can do both. Just bring your phone along.”

  Jonas pulled back and looked at her. “What is this obsession with the phone?” he said mildly.

  “No obsession. I just have a feeling you should check your calls.”

  Her gentle look and quiet voice finally reached him. “The same feeling you had the time you called me from New York?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “All right, you win.” Jonas didn’t argue with Lauren’s intuitions. He knew from experience not to doubt them.

  She started to leave the room to give him privacy, but he reached for her. “Stay here.”

  “I’ll just go change. I want you to look at my arms when you’re done.” She gave him a quick kiss and headed for their bedroom.

  Lauren spent the time getting ready for bed, washing her face, brushing her teeth and slipping into her nightgown and robe. It had been a long day and the episode with Elisabeth hadn’t helped. But she and Jonas were together. That was all that mattered.

  He was still on the phone when she returned to the living room. Sitting on one of the bar stools by the kitchen island, he was jotting something down on a pad of paper.

  Lauren stretched out on the sofa, leaned her head on the padded armrest and closed her eyes. The soothing sound of Jonas’ voice washed over her, but she paid little attention to his end of the conversation. If he wanted her to know what the call was about he would tell her.

  Eventually, she dozed off.

  Jonas glanced over where she lay. The sleeves of her robe had ridden up, and some of the bandages were visible. To think his wife had been attacked in their home, their refuge from the world, the one place he had assumed they would always be safe. That the attacker was someone he had considered a good friend still infuriated him.

  The phone call finally over, he went to Lauren and gently lifting her off the sofa, carried her to the bedroom. She stirred and her arms reached out for him.

  “Will you check my sores,” she mumbled sleepily.

  “I’ll check them,” he whispered as he leaned down and placed her on the bed. “I’ll be right back.”

  Lauren scooted up toward the headboard and leaned against the pillows to give Jonas better access to her arms. He gently peeled the bandages from the larger wounds with a frown. A couple of them looked worrisome. She winced when he touched them with the cleansing square.

  Jonas applied fresh antibiotic ointment and fastening the last bandage said, “If they are no better in the morning, we’ll have them checked.”

  Still fully dressed, he punched the pillows and slid onto the bed beside her. Putting an arm around her, he said, “I hope I’m wise enough to always listen to your feelings,” he began.

  Lauren looked at him. “The call wasn’t business?”

  “No, it was a man named Morten Viik.”

  “Viik? Is he any connection to the Mrs. Viik who owns the house?”

  “Her son. He’d been trying to reach me since last week. He contacted the office, and someone put him through to Sverre. Sverre explained I was out of the country at the time but thought the call was important enough that he gave him my private number.”

  “So, it was a good thing that you checked your calls?”

  “A very good thing.”

  Her brows drew together. “What did he want?”

  Very nonchalantly Jonas replied, “He said the house is ours if we are still interested?”

  Lauren shot up. “He said what?”

  Seeing her excited fa
ce, he asked teasingly. “Are we still interested, Lauren?”

  She was too overwhelmed to speak for a moment, then threw herself into his arms. “What happened? I thought she wasn’t ready to sell?”

  “Mrs. Viik appears to have had a change of heart. Morten said she definitely wants the house to go to us because she understands what it means to you, and she knows we would love it and take good care of it.”

  “Oh, Jonas, did he really say that?”

  Jonas nodded again. “The details will have to be worked out and a price agreed upon, but it is ours, Lauren.”

  Lauren turned shining eyes to him, then hesitated. It wasn’t just a house they would be buying, but a five-acre estate inclusive of a neglected bathhouse and a dock that needed replacing.

  Tentatively she said, “Being able to buy my family’s old home would be a dream come true, but we already have a beautiful apartment to live in. Are you sure you want to take it on?”

  “I’m sure. I wouldn’t have approached Mrs. Viik otherwise,” he assured her. “I expect us to come to an agreement on the price with a minimum of negotiations. We are very fortunate she kept her promise to offer it to us first. That means we won’t be in competition with other bidders. She must be sincere about wanting you to have the house, Lauren.”

  “I wonder what made her decide to sell so soon.”

  “An apartment I own may have had something to do with it.”

  Lauren saw the humor in his eyes. “What do you mean?”

  “I presented her with an idea that seems to have backfired a little.”

  “What kind of an idea?” she asked intrigued.

  As it so often did, his fingers sought her hair, and he began stroking it as he talked. “The day I visited her, she said she wasn’t ready to let go of the house yet. Apartment living didn’t appeal to her, and she was reluctant to give up her view, her terrace, and her flowers. I could sense the loneliness she felt with her husband gone, and I wanted the house so badly for you. An idea came to me.”