Adversaries and Lovers

by Patricia Watters

  Though she struggled to remain unaffected by his kiss, as Kate peered into Ben's dark, compelling eyes, she found herself prattling a string of nonsensical words, "Well... yes. No. That is… we won't continue this... I mean… it's the ads. Umm… tomorrow then…" Her composure shattered, she pulled her hands from his and made a hasty exit, the taste of his kiss still lingering.

  For the first few miles while riding in Henry Stassen’s truck, Kate silently reflected on Ben's kiss. After finding the futon unfolded and two pillows waiting, she would have expected a hot and heavy kiss that bordered on outright seduction, which she could have handled with a slap across his face. But Ben's slow, sweet kiss stripped her of her defenses, leaving her with a strange, unrequited yearning. Determined to quell the unwanted feeling, she said to Henry Stassen, who seemed absorbed in thought, "Does Ben have siblings?"

  After a moment, Henry said, "Huh?"

  Wondering if the man was always this distracted, she repeated the question.

  Henry glanced at her. "He's got a couple of sisters. Doesn't see them very often though. Spends most of his time hiding out at that place of his when he should be getting on with his life. What's he up to now?"

  Kate shrugged. "I don't know. We just met and I don't know him very well."

  "Not many people do," Henry said. "He’s easy to talk to and hard to know. Tends to keep the world at arm's length."

  Kate frowned. Hiding out and keeping the world at arm's length didn't fit the Ben Stassen she'd only barely begun to know, which made her even more curious about the man. "Why do you say he should be getting on with his life?" she asked.

  "Because he should," Henry groused. "He's well past thirty and it's not good for a man to stay single too long. He'll get set in his ways and be so hard to live with no woman'll want him. But you can't tell him. That boy's always been too headstrong for his own good. His father about gave up on him more than once. Think it's in the blood."

  "Him staying single so long?" Kate asked, puzzled.

  "No, him being so damn headstrong. His father's the same way."

  Kate slipped him a rueful smile. "But not his grandfather?"

  Henry picked up on her humor, and replied, "Maybe Ben got a little of it from me. You'd think a couple of generations would make a difference though. Just don't try to change his mind once it's set on something because you'll just be spinning your wheels."

  Kate contemplated that. Till now she probably had been spinning her wheels. At least it seemed that way. Still, she refused to abandon her mission before she'd barely begun. Somewhere there was a chink in Ben's armor, and she intended to find it. Everyone had a soft spot. No one was as impenetrable as Ben held himself to be.

  "You have designs on the boy?" Henry said pointedly, interrupting her thoughts.

  Kate looked at him with a start. "Heavens no! I hope I haven't given you that impression."

  "Can't say as you have," Henry said. "But if you did, the best thing you could do is beat him at his own game."

  Kate laughed lightly. "Well, I definitely do not have designs on your grandson, so whatever his game is, it’s a moot point."

  "He likes to control things," Henry said, ignoring her comment. "He needs a spirited woman who can raise a little havoc in his life, give him a run for his money."

  "I can assure you, I'm not that woman," Kate said.

  The remainder of the ride was filled with idle chatter, mostly Henry talking about his winery, with an occasional mention of Ben. Kate was surprised to learn, however, that Ben owned an abandoned town of vacant, boarded-up buildings downstream from his house. What he intended to do with the motley collection was the mystery in the family.

  Just before arriving at Kate's house, Henry asked, "Is your grandmother in good health?"

  "Physically yes, but emotionally, she's kind of stressed out right now,” Kate said. Deciding to float a trial balloon his way, she added, “She's worried about losing her home."

  "Losing her home to what?"

  "Your grandson."

  "What does Ben want with her home?"

  Kate explained the situation, and Henry listened. But when she'd finished her pitch for the old folks, Henry shrugged. "Like I said, once Ben's set his mind to something, there's no point trying to change it. If Sellwood's where he wants the corporate office, that's where it'll be."

  "Not as long as I have one last fighting breath in my body it won't," Kate said, determined to set the record straight. "If raising havoc in Ben's life is what it takes, I'll give him more havoc than he's probably ever known." Friend or foe, Henry Stassen might as well know what was in store for Ben. And it wasn't to lay down her arms and walk away.

  Henry gave her a broad smile. "I'll look forward to that."

  It came to her then that having Henry Stassen on her side might not be an asset. It was bound to raise Ben's hackles, not to mention Grandma's. But the idea of causing havoc in Ben's life was oddly appealing. It was also dangerous, she realized. Playing games with Ben Stassen could definitely have serious repercussions. But tomorrow he'd be on her turf, and that gave her an advantage.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Ten minutes later, Henry pulled to a halt in front of Kate’s grandmother’s house. The truck back-fired several thunderous retorts, sputtered and died. Kate hastily said her thanks and climbed out, hoping Grandma hadn't heard. Kate definitely did not want her to know who sat behind the driver's wheel. But already it was too late.

  Grandma flew out the front door. "What the devil's going on out here?" she asked.

  "It's just me, Grandma." Kate started up the sidewalk, hoping Henry would be on his way.

  Henry didn't budge.

  Grandma braced her hands on her hips, a dish rag dangling from her fist. Her eyes on the truck, she said, "Who's that?"

  "Just someone who gave me a ride home."

  A slow frown gathered between Grandma's brows. As she stared, eyes unblinking, the truck door slammed and Kate turned to see Henry Stassen standing tall, looking directly at Grandma. Kate looked from one to the other. From the shocked look on Grandma's face, it was clear she recognized Henry. A silence that was almost palpable stretched between the pair. Henry was the first to speak. "You look well, Rosie."

  Grandma folded her arms. "What's going on?"

  Kate knew she should go inside and mind her own business, but her feet seemed fixed to the porch step. Henry didn't smile as he said, "I brought your granddaughter home."

  "I have eyes. I can see." Grandma’s gaze kept returning to the truck.

  Henry said, "It's the same truck, Rosie. I'm sure you remember it."

  A faint flush rose in Grandma's cheeks. "Well, Kate's home now," she snapped, "so you can be on your way."

  "I've thought about you over the years, Rosie."

  "Goodbye, Henry, we have nothing to talk about." Grandma stalked into the house.

  The whole next day Grandma was as prickly as a nettle, and Kate knew there was far more to the riff between Grandpa and Henry Stassen than she'd been led to believe. She also concluded that the riff included, perhaps was even because of, Grandma. Electrical sparks seemed to buzz and sizzle between the old pair. But Grandma wasn't talking. She hadn't so much as asked how Kate happened to get a ride home with Henry. And Kate wasn't prying. She knew better than to try. She also had her mind on other things, like her upcoming visitor. She hadn't told Grandma that Ben was Henry Stassen’s grandson. Instead, she told Dora and Thelma, not the details about Grandma's connection to Ben's grandfather, only that the man who intended to build the office complex would be coming by, and that they should prepare for the performance of their lives.

  Sharply at five, Ben arrived. Kate hadn't heard his motorcycle, and when she opened the door, she saw parked in front of the house, a candy-apple-red truck, about 1940's vintage, restored to showroom condition. The man was certainly full of surprises. She'd never have pegged him as an antique auto buff. But then, she hadn't the vaguest idea how to peg the man at all. He was unlike any
male she'd ever met. "Another project pieced together from river debris?" she said, but her eyes had left the truck, and were focused instead on his snug, black tee-shirt and the muscular physique beneath.

  "Are you referring to me or my shirt?" he asked.

  Raising her gaze from his strapping chest, Kate looked into eyes dancing with amusement. Heat rose up her face and settled like hot spots in her cheeks. Biting back a retort, she said, "I was referring to your truck."

  Ben grinned. "Another product of junkyard dregs."

  "And, of course you have no attachment to it," Kate said, annoyed.

  "None whatsoever."

  "Kate!" Grandma's voice cracked like a whip. "Where’re your manners, girl? Ask the man in." Without waiting for Kate's invitation, Ben stepped inside. And Kate realized at once what a mistake this whole idea of meeting at Grandma's house was.

  Ben gave Grandma a heartfelt smile. "It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Galbraith. My grandfather spoke highly of you."

  Grandma's eyes narrowed. "Who's your grandfather?"

  "Henry Stassen."

  Grandma said nothing, only turned and headed down the hallway to her bedroom, shutting the door behind with uncharacteristic force. Kate started after her, then halted. Maybe it was best this way. Whatever Grandma might have to say to Henry Stassen's grandson would definitely not help their case. Besides, Thelma and Dora were the consummate actresses, not Grandma.

  Kate introduced the women to Ben, who greeted them courteously. Ben propped Kate's portfolio against the sofa and sat down, and within seconds, the performance began. Ben listened attentively as the old pair acted out a pitiful scene, wringing their hands and dabbing their eyes while describing the repairs they so desperately needed. Voices wavered as they lamented over how to pay for the repairs, what with taxes sure to rise, and social security only just covering the bare necessities. But thankfully they all had each other, which made life worth living. When they were finished, they waited for Ben's response.

  Ben clapped enthusiastically, and said, "A fine performance, ladies. I applaud you."

  The women looked at him, stunned. Thelma pursed her lips. "You are a rude, impertinent, insensitive young man."

  Ben smiled. "Yes ma'am. I've been told that."

  Thelma's thin nostrils flared as she drew in a sharp breath. Saying nothing, she turned and headed for the front door, Dora trailing behind, and moments later, the door opened and closed with a thud. Infuriated by his callousness, Kate looked at Ben and said, "Thelma's absolutely right. You are rude, impertinent and insensitive!"

  Ben looked at her soberly. "Only with people who try to manipulate me."

  "Or try to control you," Kate added with a challenge. “But I didn't need your grandfather to point that out. I’d already figured it out on my own.”

  Ben walked over to where Kate stood. "Gramps is right about that," he said. "I do like to be in control. When you're at the helm, the sharks can't get to you." He moved into her circle of safekeeping until his nearness made her heart thump in dismay. Peering down at her he said in a low voice, "You should practice a little control yourself. You operate too much on emotion."

  Of all the egotistical... "You presume to analyze me," Kate said, attempting to hide the shakiness in her voice, "when in fact, you know nothing about me."

  "I don't have to know anything," Ben replied, "you're as easy to read as a deck of cards laid face up. I'm reading you now." He cupped his hand under her chin and traced her bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. "Your eyes are dilated, your cheeks are flushed—" his gaze moved across her face, settling on her mouth "—and your lips are parted in breathless anticipation while you're trying to figure out what I'm going to do next."

  Kate stared at him in bewildered silence, captivated by the light that flared in his eyes. Then pulling together her scattered thoughts, she tipped her chin from his hand, and said, "If you do what I think you're about to do you might find yourself walking bowlegged for quite some time."

  Ben laughed. "I'll chance it." He bent down and pressed his lips to hers, teasing, tasting, moving against them. Oddly, it wasn’t his lingering kiss that held Kate's attention, but the feel of his hands moving idly up and down her arms. It was some time before she had the presence of mind to push him away. Angry with herself for allowing him to manipulate her again, she said, irritably, "I wish you'd stop doing that."

  Ben gave her a disarming smile. "If you'd wanted me to stop you would have carried out your threat. Instead you kissed me back, and I'm wondering why."

  "You caught me by surprise," Kate said, which he hadn't, and as soon as she’d said the words she realized how ridiculous they sounded.

  "Do you have a problem with men in general," Ben asked, "or me in particular?"

  "Definitely you. I don't like being kissed by someone who means nothing to me."

  Kate felt the tingle of his warm breath on her forehead as he said, in a quiet voice, "I intend to change that." He stepped closer.

  "What are you doing?" Kate said, edging backwards.

  "Relax. I'm not going to kiss you again," he said. "I just want you to look into my eyes and tell me you didn't enjoy my kiss, even though you responded to it."

  "Fine. I didn't enjoy your kiss. Why should I? I barely know you."

  "But you will soon." Seeming to be done with their bantering, Ben tapped her portfolio with his fingers and said, "I like your ideas, they're innovative, and I want to go forward with the AirFlo ad campaign, and others. We have a new line of swim fins that we'll talk about later."

  Kate looked at him, stunned. "Just like that? You're giving Boswell your business?"

  "No, I'm giving it to you," Ben said. "We'll work together to develop what I want. You'll spend time at my office, get familiar with our line of products. I'll also want you to test them. We'll have you fitted in all four AirFlo helmet styles and road-test each, and after that—"

  "That's not necessary," Kate cut in. The thought of meeting with Ben behind the closed door to his office was bad enough. Clinging to his muscular torso while straddling the seat behind him on his motorcycle set her nerves humming.

  "If you want the account," Ben said, looking steadily at her, "it is necessary."

  Kate folded her arms, and replied, "And maybe I don't want the account that bad."

  "But you do want to be art director," Ben said, "and that comes with landing my account."

  Kate eyed him, dubiously. "How did you know about that?"

  Ben shrugged. "I always do my homework. So, what's it going to be?"

  Kate eyed him with vexation. She didn't like being backed into a corner, especially not into a corner with the enemy. And she'd better not forget that Ben Stassen was the enemy. He was also the means by which she'd land the job as art director of Boswell Advertising, so it seemed she had no choice. Inhaling a long, steadying breath, she said, "Alright, you win."

  "This isn't supposed to be a win-lose situation," Ben said. "I was hoping we'd be on the same side."

  "Maybe with your advertising campaign we will be," Kate said, "but we're definitely on opposite sides of the zoning issue, which is a win-lose situation. Only for you there's nothing to lose. Either way, you'll have your new office. But a whole neighborhood of wonderful old folks stand to lose everything they love if your zoning change goes through."

  When she'd finished her diatribe, Ben said, "I'll be out of my office for the next few days, but I’ll plan to see you there next Friday at four."

  "Is that an order?" Kate said, miffed that he'd ignored her plug for the old folks, while issuing orders like a platoon leader.

  Ben chucked her under the chin. "No, it's an invitation. I'll buy dinner afterwards."

  Kate didn't like the warm cushy feeling she got when she looked into Ben's amused eyes. It broke down her resolve. "I'll come at four, but we'll skip the dinner," she said. She glanced down the hallway at the closed door to Grandma’s bedroom, and added in a hushed voice, "And I'd appreciate it if you didn't say anything
to my grandmother about the photos. She doesn't know I showed them to you."

  Ben arched a brow. "That's interesting."

  "Yes, well, she has enough problems in her life right now without being burdened by ghosts from the past."

  Ben slanted her a cynical, one-sided smile. "Ah yes. The poor, helpless widow is about to lose her beloved home to the evil tax collector because of the wicked capitalist."

  Kate glared at him, and said, "I don't know how you can be so completely insensitive."

  Ben shrugged. "I'm insensitive because I know that if my corporate office goes up in Sellwood, your grandmother and her friends won't be out on the street like you imply. They'll be able to sell their old houses, buy new ones, and have money to spare."

  "That's not the point!" Kate said, incensed. "My grandfather built this house with his own hands and my grandmother's help. Don't you think that means anything?"

  "Your grandmother needs to face up to reality," Ben said. "Your grandfather's gone, and staying in this house won't bring him back."

  "I don't understand you at all," Kate said, her temper hovering on the brink of eruption. "Nothing seems to touch you. But everyone isn't like you, thank goodness. Most people own possessions they cherish and don't want to lose."

  "Owning possessions is an oxymoron,” Ben said. “One can't own possessions, but one can be possessed by holdings. There's a subtle difference. When one's holdings become crucial to maintaining happiness and well-being, one becomes possessed by them."

  "And you refuse to be possessed by anything or anybody," Kate said. "You do have a problem."