On 4/19 (On 4/19 and Beyond 4/20)

by Lisa Heaton

  “So, Chelsea, if we were to enter into a contract for the next year, how much would you anticipate I pay you?”

  “You?” Was he the older gentleman? Impossible, she thought. John was not at all what she expected, but if she indeed understood him correctly, then such an agreement would be much more bearable than she anticipated. Since completing her online profile, Chelsea had tried to imagine what it would be like to enter a party or restaurant with a really old man. She imagined it would be uncomfortable, as people would surely stare and make false assumptions. Nearly blushing at such a thought, she had to admit their assumptions would not be false at all. Truly, she’d be with the man for his money and he with her for her youth.

  Wondering at her surprise, he replied, “Yes, me.” Since entering the office, he assumed she knew he was the… He stopped mid-thought, unsure of what the proper terminology would be for parties to such an agreement. Employer was the only term that seemed suitable for his part. With that term in the forefront of his mind, he proceeded in his typical professional manner. “How much will you require me to pay you for your time?”

  Stammering a bit, she said, “Well, tuition is approximately seventy thousand. I know that’s a large amount, but any portion of it would help.”

  He had to hide a grin at her response. With such poor negotiating skills, maybe she wasn’t the businesswoman he suspected her to be. “So you’re saying you don’t want me to pay the entire amount?”

  “No. I mean, I don’t know.” When she thought this would be some filthy rich, ancient man, the amount seemed less excessive. But suddenly, she felt less certain.

  Similar to how he felt at her response to his first question, an unusual wave of compassion came over him. Before, it was her embarrassment that caused it, this time, it was the fact that she was struggling with a moral dilemma. “Let me help you settle your dilemma.” He nodded. “Seventy is agreeable to me.” Rubbing his chin, he looked at her intently. “What about other expenses? How will you live?”

  Quickly, she assured him, “Oh, I’m looking for something part-time in order to cover other expenses, food and whatever else I need. I have roommates, so that lessens what I need monthly.” Since losing her receptionist job just days before, Chelsea had already put in applications at every local business near her apartment and campus. At that very moment, she was supposed to be in an interview for a job that seemed quite promising. Having had to reschedule the interview, and based on the disapproving tone of the woman she was to meet, Chelsea had to believe the job wouldn’t likely be hers.

  “Between school, studying, and a part-time job, do you anticipate having time for a social schedule? What about travel?”

  “Travel?” A lump formed in her throat causing her to feel as if she were choking. Logistics of travel, rather the implications of what travel might mean caused her to panic. “I didn’t know travel would be involved.” Of course she knew that. It was on the news report. “Wait. I mean I suppose I knew, but I haven’t thought about it as I should.”

  “I travel often. Of course we can work around your school schedule, but if you have a job that will likely cause a problem.”

  Realizing she’d made a mistake in considering such a crazy agreement, she stood. “Mr…” She realized he never told her his last name. “John, I apologize, but I think maybe I have made a mistake.”

  Standing with her, John could hardly comprehend what had so drastically altered her disposition. He thought he detected a hint of fear in her eyes. “Are you opposed to travel? Is that your concern?”

  “No, not to travel specifically.” Hesitating, she found that she was embarrassed to voice her concern. To consider traveling with a man of John’s age rather than some decrepit old man changed everything. Of course he’d expect more than she would be willing to offer in their relationship.

  “What then?” Their talk seemed to be going well prior to the topic of travel, so her sudden discomfort had him baffled.

  “I’ve been very clear in both of my prior interviews that I’m not interested in a sexual relationship. I believe there may have been some misunderstanding.”

  Smiling at her, he assured her, “I’ve never paid for sex, and I don’t intend to start now. That’s not at all the arrangement I’m looking for.” Motioning for her to sit, he clarified. “When we travel…” Realizing they had yet to come to an agreement, he added, “If we enter into this agreement, we will most certainly have separate rooms. I can assure you, you’ll be safe with me.”

  The fact that he hadn’t flinched at such a large amount of money, actually, he already agreed to it, caused Chelsea to reconsider her reconsideration. After all, it was only for a year. Determined to set the record straight early on, she again clarified, “I want to be upfront on the matter. I will not change my mind about that. It’s non-negotiable.”

  “I understand, and once again, I respect you for your convictions.” Quietly, John studied Chelsea. Never in a million years would he have expected a girl such as her to show up for the interview. He expected sweetness certainly, but this girl was light years beyond sweet; she was truly innocent. He could read it in every expression of her eyes and each gesture of body language. Already she tugged at his heart, in that he felt true compassion for her predicament. Also, he admired her so greatly for taking such a stance, when most any other girl would likely think it par for the course. He could hardly imagine finding another girl whom he might respect as much or desire to have in his company for the next year. For some reason, that certainty both reassured him and disturbed him at the same time.

  John shifted in his chair and crossed his right leg over his left. Leaning back, he said, “And I want to be upfront about the terms that I expect you to agree to. If we do enter into this agreement, it will be for one year only. After that time, we’ll have no contact. I have neither desire nor intention of becoming involved on any romantic level. Am I clear on that?”

  Chuckling a bit, she replied, “Very clear.” Because of his good looks and certainly due to his wealth, she had to imagine he was considered quite the catch. Obviously, by the stipulations he set forth, he was protecting himself from something he must be quite the expert on. If he knew her better, he would have no fear of that. She’d been in L.A. for nearly five years, and in all that time, had not had even one date. It was by her choice. Just as he expressed, she had no desire or intention of becoming romantically involved with this man, no matter how handsome she found him to be.

  Reaching over to his desk, John picked up a folder. “This is a draft of what I will have drawn up as an official contract. Take this home and read through it. Determine how much additional money you’ll need monthly, and we can discuss it over dinner Friday night. If, after further consideration, we both feel this will be a mutually beneficial arrangement, we can sign the contract then.”

  Taking the folder, she nodded. “Will you contact me as to where to meet you for dinner?”

  “Expect a call from Irene.”

  Back in her room sitting on her bed, Chelsea read through the contract. It was what she anticipated, other than the strong terminology regarding the time after the expiration of the agreement. There was no question about it, after the end date, he’d refuse any contact with her. It suited her well anyway. As a matter of fact, the entire arrangement suited her. She would conclude her final year of school with no debt and hopefully well fed by a handsome businessman. Whatever his motives were for entering into such a deal, that caused her no concern. All that mattered was that she found relief in knowing she wouldn’t have to borrow such a large sum of money when the time came and tuition was due, or even worse, have to return home without finishing at all.

  When her roommate entered, Chelsea slid the contract back into the folder. No one could ever find out about her means of paying for school, not her roommates and especially not her family. Even the thought of her family discovering such a thing caused her stomach to lurch, almost as if she were about to be sick. This was the first time
she could ever recall being involved in something that she couldn’t be open with her parents about. She had never intentionally hid anything about her life from them. But in her defense, she’d never been in such a predicament and never had her father felt less capable of taking care of her. The last thing she wanted was for him to feel any more inadequate than he already felt. No question about it, her parents could never know.

  John sat at a table awaiting Chelsea’s arrival. It was five minutes before seven, and he wondered if she might be one who was habitually late. That would be a deal breaker since promptness was crucial to him. With that thought, he saw her enter, scan the room until she spotted him, and then to his surprise, wave at him from the hostess stand. He waved back and stood. There was something immensely innocent about the way she waved at him, and because of it, he could only smile as he watched her tentative approach. Waiting for her, he grinned even broader as a rush of what could only be described as excitement filled his chest. He felt unusually enthusiastic, an emotion he hadn’t experienced for at least a decade. When she arrived at his table, he stepped around to slide her chair out for her. His gesture seemed to take her by surprise.

  She was wearing an ocean blue satin dress with a short black sweater over it. Because of the material of the dress, it reminded him of a slip or nightgown. Whatever look she was going for, she looked beautiful in it. As she sat, she looked up at him, her large brown eyes framed by long lashes. There was something so childlike about them. Amused by such a thought, he reminded himself that from his perspective, she was indeed a child.

  Settling in across from her, he decided that she seemed a bit hurried. “Did you find the place without problem?”

  Sliding her napkin into her lap, she assured him, “I did.” She left out the part where she had to call a cab at the last minute and beg the driver to rush through traffic. “This place is lovely. I’ve never been.” Taking a deep breath to slow her rapid heartbeat, she apologized, “I’m so sorry. Usually I’m more prompt.”

  “You were perfectly on time.”

  When she opened the menu, Chelsea noticed there were no prices listed beside any of the entrees. Usually, that was how she decided what she would eat, the cheapest meal on the menu, often off the kids menu when the server would allow it. It was a rare treat to be able to simply choose a meal based on what sounded best to her rather than what she could afford.

  John watched her as she scanned the menu, wondering if she was a salad girl, the kind who only ate salad to stay slender. Biting at her lip as she read, she appeared thoughtful. “What looks good to you?” He asked.

  “I think I’ll have the petite filet.”

  “Good choice. I may have the larger one.” Behind his own menu, he smiled. Not a salad girl, it seemed. While he’d never considered it before, he found that getting to know Chelsea would be an interesting prospect. Usually, keeping himself at arm’s length, he rarely asked personal questions or took the time to discover the likes and dislikes of a woman. With her, though, he felt safe in asking such questions. After all, he would have to consider her preferences when planning evenings out. He could hardly expect her to suffer through meals that she had no taste for. “Are you a picky eater?”

  “No, not at all. There’s not much I won’t eat.” She crinkled her nose and added, “Well, okra, but I’ve seen pigs root around okra.” As soon as she said such a thing, she regretted it. Flushing in her embarrassment, she sputtered, “I am so sorry.”

  Leaning in, he asked, “Why are you sorry?” In the candlelight, it was difficult to remember she was so young. With the ease of their conversation so far, she seemed as mature as any older woman he had dated. But in that moment, obviously embarrassed, she again appeared to be nothing more than a child.

  “Farm talk is not exactly polite dinner conversation.” Chiding herself, she planned to be much more ladylike in the future.

  “Farm talk? Were you raised on a farm?”

  “I was, in Oklahoma. We raise sheep.”

  “I don’t know if I would have pegged you as a farm girl, but now that I know, I can see it.” That explained the sweetness he saw in her eyes. “I grew up on a ranch in Montana.”

  “Montana? I don’t see it. I would have guessed you to be an Ivy League type.”

  “Really? Why’s that?”

  “Your suit, your haircut, I don’t know, your attitude maybe. I mean it as a compliment. As for Montana, I’d like to go there someday.”

  Accustomed to women agreeing with anything he said, trying to impress him, or whatever they thought that accomplished, he assumed Chelsea’s interest in Montana was slightly exaggerated. Suspect he asked, “What about Montana intrigues you specifically?

  Her eyes lit up. “Other than Alaska, I guess it’s the last frontier of America. When I was home last, I watched a show with my dad about a mountain man who lives off the land there. The cinematography was breathtaking. The mountains, the endless trees and rivers, I think it would be spectacular.” She sighed. “I suppose growing up there, it’s just old hat to you.” Shrugging, she added, “I guess I’d like to see more of the world than I’ve seen so far, which isn’t much.”

  The sincerity of her answer made him regret trying to catch her in some form of dishonesty. Deciding he would stop being so cynical, he instead focused on getting to know more about her.

  For some reason, knowing he was raised on a ranch caused her to feel much more comfortable. From that point on, the conversation flowed easily. Less fearful of being herself, or at least a little less fearful in general, she simply enjoyed her time with John. In trying to get to know her, he at least pretended to be interested in her classes and asked many questions. As serious, bordering on severe, as he seemed in the office, she found him this night to be altogether different. He smiled more, laughed more easily, and said all the right things. With his dry sense of humor, oftentimes she was not sure when he was joking.

  Once though, in the middle of a sentence, noticing a ring on his finger, she trailed off, leaned in, and whispered, “Are you married?” If so, she’d never consent to this.

  Without conscience thought of it, John reached his right hand over to touch his ring, spinning it around as he’d done countless times over the years. With as much guilt burning in his stomach as in the early years, he replied, “A widower.”

  Based on his expression, she could see it was not a topic open for discussion, so she asked no more questions. There was something about the moment, though, that held the key as to why he would choose to “date” in such a way. John was not commitment phobic as she originally suspected, but more likely wounded. Based on this encounter, she could tell he must have loved his wife very much. In knowing that, she found that she appreciated him even more. Also, it gave her a specific way to pray for him.

  Once their plates were cleared and the server offered them dessert, John looked at her to see if she was interested. Grinning, she asked, “Will you split something with me?”

  “I think I can afford to get you your own dessert.”

  “That’s not the problem.” Leaning back, placing her hand on her stomach, she assured him, “I just ate so much; I wouldn’t dare eat a whole dessert.”

  “You can take part home.”

  “Oh, no,” she insisted, “if I have it in front of me, I’ll eat it all.” Looking at the server who waited patiently while they discussed it, she said, “Cheesecake and two forks.” Looking back at John, she asked, “Do you like cheesecake?”

  Nodding, he indicated he did. Something about her made him feel warm inside. Either her youth or honesty, he wasn’t sure which, but something sure did.

  As the server turned to go, she reached for his arm to stop him. “If you don’t mind, when you bring the cheesecake, sit it closer to me so I’ll have the advantage.”

  Laughing out loud, John leaned in accusing, “You play dirty.”

  “I have brothers.”

  Chelsea was like a breath of fresh air. For him, the matter was settle
d. She would be exactly what he needed. At his most cynical, and during a season of life when he found being alone was much more desirable than the companionship of others, a girl like her would likely brighten his outlook. Without question, that evening she had.

  Reaching into his jacket pocket, he pulled out the contract and sat it on the edge of the table. “So, dinner is over. What have you concluded?”

  Tucking her hair behind her ear, feeling a bit nervous, she shrugged. “I think we have a deal.”

  “And have you come up with a number for your monthly expenses?”

  All week she’d crunched the numbers. She included rent, groceries and gas, a little to eat out occasionally, and a small amount for clothing. Hesitantly, she took the piece of paper out of her purse and slid the itemized list over to him, hoping she didn’t seem greedy.

  Looking at such a minimal number, two thousand dollars, John slid the paper back across to her. “Here’s a lesson in business. Ask for much more than you really want on the front end. That will allow room for negotiation.” He didn’t intend his comment to be condescending, but rather the first lesson in teaching Chelsea how to conduct herself out in the real world. School was valuable, but actual business experience was what she truly needed.

  Sliding the paper back toward him, she countered, “Here’s a lesson in integrity. You told me to tell you what I need, not what I want. This is all I need.”

  For a moment he sat silently. Something within him began to stir, something from a lifetime ago. She sounded much like his father. With the pieces coming together, giving him a better view of her character, John determined Chelsea was as fine a young lady as he’d ever met. Finally, after studying her words, he admitted, “You’re right. I did say that. But this is not enough.” Taking out his pen, he marked on the contract and slid the document over to her.

  Looking at the number he added caused her to gasp. The amount they agreed on for tuition was typed in already, but in the blank space for monthly expenditures, he filled in five thousand dollars. “This is ridiculous. I’ll never spend that much money each month.”