by Tamie Dearen
“You need to come and catch us up on everything that’s happened. George is pouting because he didn’t get to talk to you the last few times you dropped by,” said May.
“I promise to come soon. We also need to chat about Spencer. But today, I have a favor to ask. Can we sit in the back room? Mr. Gherring is coming.”
“No problem.”
“One more thing. Mr. Gherring doesn’t know Ellen is with me. I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t mention that fact to him.”
May lifted her eyebrows high and gave Ellen the once over. “So I’m guessing you’re trying to make a match with Mr. Gherring and your friend, here?”
Ellen’s cheeks reddened. “It’s not my idea—I think she’s crazy.”
“I tend to agree with you,” chuckled May. She turned back to Anne. “Honey, I won’t breathe a word.”
Anne’s palms were sweating as they waited for Steven to arrive. Perhaps if she were casual enough, he might think it was an accidental meeting rather than a planned setup. After all, this was the first time she’d actually tried to introduce him to someone. He might not be suspicious.
May led him into the back promptly at twelve fifteen. His pleased expression fell when he noticed Anne had company at the table.
“Hi, Mr. Gherring. I hope you don’t mind, but I ran into a friend of mine outside.”
“Hi. Steven Gherring. Nice to meet you.” He held out his hand and presented a forced smile.
Ellen shook it firmly. “Sorry for imposing, Mr. Gherring. My name is Ellen Dean.”
“Ellen’s an actress.”
“How is it you have so many friends? You’ve only been in New York for a few weeks.” His voice betrayed his irritation.
“Ellen was the only person on the subway who would talk to me.”
He glanced at his watch. “You know, I have a pretty busy afternoon. Why don’t you just bring something up to me, and let me leave you both to a peaceful lunch?”
He started to turn, but Anne put out her hand. “Oh you should stay. Ellen is very interesting. Like I said, she’s an actress. She’s got the leading role in a play that starts next week.”
His brows flew for a moment, and then understanding dawned on his face. His expression turned fierce and dark. Anne felt her fingers trembling. Perhaps this hadn’t been such a great idea.
“May I speak to you privately for a moment, Ms. Best?”
She followed him to the door, scrambling for a cover story. “I’m sorry Mr. Gherring, I didn’t think you’d mind—”
“I know exactly what you’re doing. This is just part of your little plan with Gram, right?” His voice was quiet, but left no doubt of his anger.
Anne’s face was burning. “I, uhmm. No, I—”
“Give it up. We both know you can’t tell a lie.”
“But you can’t leave now. It would be rude.”
“I can’t believe you still want me to… After all that’s happened…” His eyes hardened into cold blue slits. “Fine! I’ll meet your friend, if that’s what you really want.”
Striding back to the table, he slid into a chair next to Ellen. “It turns out one of my appointments has cancelled this afternoon. I have plenty of time for lunch, after all. Tell me about yourself, Ellen. You’re in a play?”
“Yes, it’s my first role. I’m trying to break into the business. I have the lead, but we’re a really small production.”
“What’s it called?”
“Rainbow Junction. Have you heard of it?”
“No, I’m afraid not. But that’s no matter.” He flashed his deep dimples at her. “What’s that fragrance you’re wearing? It’s intoxicating.”
“Oh. It’s called ‘Rain’. Do you like it?”
He picked up her hand and lifted her wrist to his nose. “That’s really nice. It’s light and sweet. It suits you.” He held her hand a moment longer before he released it.
Anne kept a smile plastered on her face as she observed their interaction.
“Thank you, Mr. Gherring.” Ellen’s blushed, a pretty rose color rising to her cheeks.
“Please. Call me Steven.” His smile was devastating. “You know Ms. Dean, I just might be interested in supporting this play of yours financially. We should get together and talk more about it.”
“Oh, thanks Mr. Gher—I mean, Steven. We could really use some financial support. It’s a great play, but it’s so far off Broadway no one knows about it.”
“Ellen, I have a terrific idea. I have a benefit dinner tomorrow night. Why don’t you accompany me? We could talk more about your play.”
Anne jumped into the conversation. “Wait. You have a dinner tomorrow night? I didn’t know about that—”
He pinned her with cold, angry eyes. “No, you didn’t. That was not an accident. I purposely left it off your calendar.”
He turned back to Ellen. “Can you believe that Ms. Best has been plotting with my dear grandmother to set me up with a potential wife? Yes, it seems she’s even resorted to meddling with my dinner escorts. Unbelievable, right?”
“Uhmm, y-yes. That’s, uhmm, that’s pretty crazy…”
“Yes, indeed. It seems she’s working overtime to get me hitched. To someone. To anyone who’ll have me I suppose. Despite the fact I specifically forbade her from interfering. So are we on for tomorrow night?”
“Uhmm, sure.” She glanced nervously at Anne.
“Great.” He smiled, his sky blue eyes studying Ellen. “Your hair is really striking. Do you do something to straighten it?”
“No… Uhmm… I’m one quarter Asian. It’s naturally straight.”
He reached out and lifted a lock of her long hair in his hands, gazing as the silky strand slipped through his fingers. “I hope you’ll wear it down tomorrow night. I really like it.”
“Sure… okay…”
“Ms. Best,” he said without taking his eyes off of Ellen. “I’ll need Ellen’s contact information.”
The waitress arrived with their orders, but Steven stood. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience ma’am, but I’ll need mine boxed to go.”
He turned to Ellen, and lifted the back of her hand to press it against his lips. His clear eyes caught hers in their trance. His voice was low and resonant. “Mademoiselle… Until tomorrow night, ma jolie fille.”
Anne barely touched her lunch. She supposed her stomach was upset because she knew Steven was angry with her. Still the meeting seemed to have gone extraordinarily well. Ellen was excited the show might be getting some much needed funding and chatted with great animation throughout the rest of the meal. But instead of the elation she ought to be experiencing, Anne felt a gnawing pain in the pit of her stomach. Why wasn’t she thrilled? Steven appeared to be enthralled with Ellen? If his date went well on Tuesday night, Steven might never try to kiss her again. Wasn’t that what she wanted? More importantly, she wouldn’t have to worry about what that kiss might lead to. She pushed her food around on her plate until she finally gave up and asked for a doggy bag.
Steven's office door was closed, so Anne decided to Skype with Henri.
“Hello Anne.” Henri’s smiling face appeared on the screen. Still sporting the scruffy look, he smiled with tired eyes.
“Hey Henri. I missed hearing your voice. How is Anna-Laure doing?”
“She has had a rough time today, but hopefully the worst is over. But she loves the book you sent her. Where did you find it?”
“I ordered it online. A seven-year-old with cancer wrote it, and it’s been translated into three languages. I wanted to do something. And since I couldn’t come to Paris, I had it sent straight to you. So she really likes it?”
“I think so. She has read it four times already.”
“So will you be able to come this weekend?”
Henri hesitated. “Yes… I am planning to go to Chicago for business on Wednesday. I will be in New York for the weekend.”
“So if you’re here on Saturday, would you like to go to the company Christmas party with me? I’m
kind of expected to go, since I planned most of it.”
“Well… maybe… But I am not feeling much like a party.”
“It’s okay if you don’t want to go. We can just wait and see how you feel.”
“Okay, that’s a good idea.”
“So, when will I see you? That is, assuming Anna-Laure is fine and you get to come over here.”
“Uhmm, I am not sure. Probably, we will get together on Friday night. That is when I first come into the city.”
“That sounds great. I’m excited to finally see you again. I’d better get back to work before I get caught. Bye for now.”
“Goodbye, jolie fille.”
Back at her desk, Steven addressed work issues, not mentioning the lunch incident except for retrieving Ellen’s contact information. Still, Anne couldn’t relax in his presence. He chose the afternoon for a lesson using his email correspondence. He was constantly brushing his arm against her while leaning over to identify specific terms on her computer screen. At one point he stood behind her and leaned across her shoulder, his face almost touching hers. For his part, he seemed totally unaware of the casual contact, but Anne felt a growing discomfort. He’d ruined her. Now his close proximity stirred memories of just how good his kiss had felt. She tried to concentrate on work, but was frustrated at her lack of progress and grateful when it was time to leave.
Arriving at the apartment building after her long subway commute, Rayna hurried out to stop her before she got on the elevator. “Hey, Anne. Uhmm, what are your plans tonight?”
“Well, not much. I’m planning to change clothes and go for a run on the treadmill right now. But I’m free later if you want to get together and talk. Is something up?”
“No, uhmm… I just feel like we’ve lost touch. I like to know what you’re up to.”
“Should I call you later?”
“Sure. That’d be great.”
Anne changed quickly and headed for the gym. She needed a good run to release some tension and get all thoughts of Steven out of her head. She chose a treadmill and started her run. She planned a forty minute run, but she might go forty-five or fifty if she was feeling strong. She’d been running for about five minutes when Steven Gherring walked in front of her treadmill, blocking her view out the window. He was shirtless, of course. He leaned his elbow on the front of her treadmill, his biceps flexing.
“Hey, Anne. Just thought I’d say hello before I start my ride.”
Anne made a vain attempt to keep her eyes locked on Steven's face. “Hello.”
“I’m planning to ride for an hour. I’ve gotten behind on my training.” He stretched his arms above his head, flexing every sinewy muscle in his chest and arms. Anne watched him, mesmerized, and stumbled a bit on her track.
“Is there something wrong with the fancy exercise bike in your apartment?”
“Yes, it’s broken.”
“Should I call someone for you to have it fixed?”
“No, that’s okay. I don’t mind coming down here.” He stretched again. “Well I’d better get started on that long training ride. You could come and talk to me when you’re finished if you’d like.” He bent over to touch his toes and did a lunge stretch on each leg. Every individual strand of his clearly defined leg muscles seemed to dance and flex. Then he sauntered over to mount an exercise bike.
Anne felt faint. It was probably a lack of food. Surely it had nothing to do with Steven's effortless but effective assault on her senses. He did have an amazing body. And she’d seen him in nothing but a towel. Unbidden, an image invaded her mind. Steven was bending over the breakfast table, his body still damp from his shower, muscles flexing, straining the limits of the towel tucked low around his hips. She missed another step on the treadmill and barely caught herself before falling. She’d better cut her run short before she broke something.
She turned off her unit and dashed out of the gym quickly, avoiding eye contact with Steven. It wasn’t until she reached her apartment she realized she’d left her cell phone and keys upstairs in the gym. She returned to retrieve them, hoping to slip in quietly and escape another encounter with him. But when she arrived, his bike was empty, and he was nowhere to be seen.
She had to escape… to get away from everything that reminded her of Steven. It was dark outside, but still early. There were plenty of people on the streets. Surely it would be safe to go visit Mr. Hamilton. She hadn’t even run on the treadmill long enough to break a sweat, so she changed quickly and hurried out the front door, waving at Rayna who was busy talking to another resident. Antonio stopped her at the door.
“Hi Beautiful! Where’re you off to? Should I get you a taxi?”
“No thanks, Antonio. I’m just going a few blocks. And I’ll be back in an hour.”
“Are you sure? It’s already dark.”
“I’ll be fine. Tell Rayna I’ll call her later.”
She walked rapidly, but she didn’t feel any danger on the busy New York City street. Mr. Hamilton’s light was on, but the door was locked. So she rang the door and waited. Soon she heard footsteps and he appeared at the door.
“Come in, come in!” His eyes crinkled in a huge smile. “I’m so glad you came by. I was just making dinner. Would you like to join me?”
“Oh, I don’t want to impose,” she said, but her stomach gurgled at the scent of food drifting down the stairs.
He laughed out loud. “Your stomach says ‘yes’, so come on up.”
She followed him to his friendly kitchen and flopped into a chair at the table. He dished up two plates of spaghetti with meatballs and put a large bowl of tossed green salad on the table. Then he opened the oven and removed a pan of broiled garlic and cheese bread.
“If you don’t like Italian food, you’re out of luck.”
A loud growl answered him before Anne could speak. She giggled. “My stomach and I both love Italian. Thanks!”
She felt the tension melting from her shoulders as she chatted with Mr. Hamilton over dinner. She told him all about the stress of learning about the accident, and not knowing the outcome until arriving in Fort Worth. They discussed her new job and her misgivings about her abilities. But she purposefully avoided the subject of Steven Gherring, the source of a great deal of her anxiety at the moment.
After dinner, they went downstairs and he pulled out a vinyl record of The Lawrence Marable Quartet, entitled Tenorman. The sweet sounds of jazz filled the shop. He carved while Anne browsed through the shop. Once again, she was thoroughly fascinated, examining the precise fit where each of the puzzle-like carved figures intertwined. She went back to her favorite carving, Inseparable Love, marveling once again at the intricate pieces carved from a single piece of wood. A new sign, Not For Sale, had replaced the seventy-five hundred dollar price tag.
“How come you took the price tag off this one?”
He smiled. “A man actually tried to buy it from me last week. I had to make up a story about saving it for someone else. So, I decided to play it safe, since I don’t really want to sell it anyway.”
“Just out of curiosity, how much would it take for you to sell it? A million? Not that I’m planning to buy it or anything,” she chuckled.
“I don’t think I could ever sell it. I might give it to my granddaughter someday.”
“Wow—lucky girl.” Her cell phone started ringing, and she ran to dig it out of her purse.
“Hey Rayna. What’s up?”
“Oh great, you answered your phone. I called thirty minutes ago, and you didn’t answer. I thought something might have happened. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine—I must’ve left my purse downstairs during dinner. I just had Italian food with Mr. Hamilton. He’s the one I told you about. You know, he lives above his woodcarving shop. You should come and see it sometime.”
“Okay sure. But are you coming home soon?”
“Yes, I didn’t realize I’d been here for two hours already. I’m leaving right now.”
Anne heard muffled
voices in the background and Rayna came back on the phone. “You really should take a taxi. It’s dark outside.”
“Maybe. But I’ll probably just walk. I need the exercise. I didn’t manage to finish my run tonight. Anyway, it’s a beautiful clear night, and I have a warm coat and hat and gloves. I’ll see you in a few minutes.”
Rayna started to protest again, but Anne disconnected the call. She turned to Mr. Hamilton. “I guess I need to go. My friend Rayna has suddenly gotten very motherly.” She bundled up and gave Mr. Hamilton a big hug before dashing out the door.
Making her way down the deserted street, she had some misgivings about her decision. She would have hailed a cab, but there were no cars to be seen. She began to get a little nervous when a man across the street seemed to slow down as she came his direction. He was probably just looking at the street sign, but it appeared he was studying her, instead. She scolded herself for being paranoid and picked up her pace a bit, slipping her hand into her purse to find the comfort of a can of mace she’d had for ten years. Who knew if it even worked after this much time? The streetlights made shadows under the awnings, and she began to imagine someone hiding in every darkened doorway. Perhaps it would have been wise to get a taxi after all.
She saw a figure coming toward her on the same side of the street. He was making rapid time, although he didn’t appear to have on running attire. She stepped into a sheltered doorway to remain undetected as he passed by. But when he got closer, she recognized his face.
“Mr. Gherring?”
“Anne!” He almost fell down as he skidded to a stop. He darted to her hiding place and pulled her into his arms. She sank into their safety and comfort, holding on as if she were drowning.
“You can’t be this stupid. You’re a grown woman—a mother! What would you tell your daughters about being alone on a deserted street in New York at night?”
“H-how did you know?”
“Because Rayna… She happened to be talking to you when I was walking out the lobby door.”
“Well, you didn’t have to come,” she said stubbornly. “I only had another block or so. I would’ve been fine.”
