A Calculated Romance (14 page)

"You're really spoiling me today, Bernard," she said, lowering her eyes to examine her lunch.

"I think you are spoiling me.  It's not every day someone wants to listen to me drone on about art.  It's been a real treat for me, and I hope I didn’t bore you."

"Not at all.  I don't know much about painting.  I appreciate your spending the time to explain things.  I can go on and on about rocks, crystals, and gemstones, but not much else."

"Katrina said you were taking classes at the Gemology Institute.  That's impressive, Ireland."

The girl blushed.  She wasn't used to hearing such compliments.

"Thank you.  I grew up a rock hound, so it seemed the place for me."

"Maybe you can give me a tour over there, sometime.  I'd like to see what you're learning.  You know, we had a big exhibit of Russian jewels here not too long ago.  That's what brought Katrina and me together," he said.

Ireland watched as Barry's face turned a pale shade of pink.  She knew he'd briefly dated her boss before Kate and Robert got serious.

"I read about it.  I wish I'd had the chance to see it, but that was before I moved to LA."

"What sounds good for dessert?" he asked, changing the subject.

After sharing a peach crumble with caramel ice cream, they finished their coffees.   Barry asked her if she had any plans for the rest of the day, and she explained that she hoped to spend the afternoon away from home, that she needed a change of scenery.  He suggested they hit up some shops in Century City and see a movie.  A new spy flick came out recently, and he hadn't had a chance to go yet.  Happy to have such pleasant company, Landi agreed, and the new friends spent the rest of the afternoon sauntering between high-end retail shops, giggling over the prices, and talking art before entering the theater.  The film turned out to be a real thriller that kept Ireland on the edge of her seat.  Afterwards, they grabbed some freshly made potato chips from an outdoor vendor and sat on a bench to people watch.  She picked the parmesan crisps while he decided to risk the Cajun flavor.  They sampled each other's choices, discussing the movie and relishing a rare night out.

It was ten p.m. by the time she picked up her car at the museum, said goodnight to Barry, and arrived home.  The Heller had been a good choice.  She'd managed to keep her mind off James . . . almost.  The museum director helped, filling up any empty space with art facts, amusing anecdotes, or questions about her classes at the Institute.

Chapter 13
- An Unwanted Guest-

Landi marched from her car to her apartment, not wanting to be out alone late at night any longer than necessary.  Vehicles filled all the spots directly in front of her building, so she had to park a few yards away.  Fog had rolled in off the ocean, reducing visibility, and not another soul appeared on the street.  The click of her heels on the sidewalk made the only sounds, announcing her arrival.  She released a sigh of relief as her key slid in the lock and turned.

As she grasped the knob, rough hands grabbed her shoulders and spun her around.  A scream caught in her throat and released as a squeak when her back crashed against the door.

"Where have you been?" James demanded, his fingers digging into her upper arms.

Landi's knees gave way with relief, and he had to hold her up to keep her from collapsing.  She grabbed his elbows and tried to catch her breath.

"You scared me to death!  What are you doing here, James?" she rasped.

"Making sure you're all right.  You didn't answer your phone last night or today," he growled.  "When I saw your car was missing, I went nuts.  I didn't know what had happened to you!"

He didn’t mention that he'd checked the local hospitals and police department to see if anyone matching her description had been found.  He'd also called Hatti and utilized his contacts in the DIA to try and locate her.

"I went out.  That's what happened to me," she said.  Landi released the beginning of a nervous giggle despite her anger, then put her hand to her mouth, creating a hiccup.

James was not amused.

"Where did you go?"  He sounded like a judge in a military tribunal.

"None of your business, James," she replied in a cool tone, reaching for the door.

He grabbed her wrist, forcing her to face him again.

"It is my business."

"How so?" she asked, a challenge in her voice and eyes.

Jim glared at the girl but said nothing.  He'd never seen her like this—independent, defiant, even.  It made him uncomfortable.  He took a step back and crossed his arms over his chest, which heaved as he drew in a deep breath, trying to calm himself.  Used to his orders being followed, he didn't know how to handle this girl, this new version of his Landi.

"I thought as much," she added. Tilting her head to the right, she gave him a curt nod and opened her door.

"Wait!"

Ireland stood on the threshold of her apartment.  She glanced over her shoulder, trying to decide if she should slam the door in his face or hear him out.  Jim looked down.   Her eyes followed to where Sizzle laced himself through James's ankles, finally plopping on his side over the man's left shoe, swatting the ground with his tail in rhythm to a beat no human could hear.

She laughed out loud.  The sight of James nailed to the spot by her alley cat struck her as funny.  Jim's shoulders bounced as he tried to stifle a chuckle, and one corner of his mouth quivered as he fought against smiling.

"Can I see you tomorrow?" he asked timidly, bending to scratch Sizzle behind the ears.

The cat purred.  James looked up to see her response.  She couldn't turn that face down.  He appeared unsure of himself, but still hopeful.

"Be here at nine to take me to church," she said, retreating into her apartment.

Darn!

The last thing he wanted was another sermon from
Mr.
Hellfire and Brimstone
.  James watched the door close and picked up the cat, continuing to pet the animal.  He had so many things to tell Landi, but he couldn't, not yet.  He'd panicked when he failed to reach her.  It wasn't like the girl to disappear for a day, and his mind ran wild with negative scenarios.  Hopefully, he'd soon have the answers he needed, and he could put an end to this charade.

Inside the apartment, Ireland leaned against the wall and hyperventilated.  Tremors racked her body from the fright she'd just received.  What was James thinking? Hadn't he been working on the East Coast?  How did he get here so quickly to check on her?  He said they probably wouldn't see each other again, yet here he was, scaring her half to death, spying on her.  None of it made any sense.

She rose the next morning, groggy.  She'd had a hard time getting to sleep, and her eight a.m. alarm rang far too soon.  Landi rolled out of bed and made herself a cup of strong, black tea.  As she sipped the hot liquid, she wondered if James would show up.  She'd never loved anyone the way she loved him.  She felt they were connected, yet he was always just out of reach.  She wished she'd come from a good family and was prettier, older, more educated.  Then, maybe he'd care for her as she did for him.

James barely slept a wink.  He still needed to know where the girl had been, where she'd spent Friday evening and Saturday, and if she shared her time with anyone else.  At least she hadn't been harmed.  He'd worried about that too.  More than anything, he wanted to keep her safe and shelter her from any more pain.  She'd experienced enough in that department.

James cursed when he nicked himself with the razor.  He was running late.  He grabbed a tie and jacket and headed for the door.  He didn’t intend to let Ireland slip away again.

Landi opened the door and gave James a good once-over before checking his eyes.  A deep blue, his irises told her he'd left his dark brooding at home.  His clothes amplified his blonde hair, azure eyes, and rugged good looks.

Of course,
she mused.
He knows how handsome he looks in his crisp light blue dress shirt with that deep plum tie and navy suit
.

Good Lord, she's lovely.
  

Jim lit up like a Christmas tree when he saw her.  She had on a fitted light blue dress with a matching short-sleeved jacket. A jewel neckline held rows of tiny, shiny periwinkle, oblong beads that highlighted her face.  The dress fit snugly while the little, boxy coat added some formality to her ensemble.  He touched the hem of her sleeve.  He couldn't help himself.  The fabric had a unique, pebble-like, soft texture.  Her nude pumps gave the girl some added height.  She'd pinned her hair back, away from her face, but several curly tendrils had rebelled and sprung loose, framing her features.

"You look, uh . . . you look nice," he said.

It was good to see her after so many weeks, under better circumstances than last night.

"I wasn't sure you'd come," she remarked, locking the door.

"Oh, I couldn't miss a chance to go to church with you," he said.

She gave him a sideways glance, trying to determine his sincerity.  His countenance reflected no sarcasm, and she decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.  She knew this Sunday's sermon topic and couldn't wait to watch Jim's reaction.

In the church, James appeared to enjoy the worship music, clapping along with the choir.  Landi noticed all the smiles, nods, and quick looks they received.  She figured it was due to James.  He was so handsome and tall.  She guessed everyone wondered what he was doing with someone like her.

Jim dabbed his forehead with the handkerchief he'd placed in his pocket.  Once the pastor started preaching on honesty, he broke out in a cold sweat.  What would Landi think?  He took deep breaths and tried to remain calm, swiping the dime-sized beads of water from his face.

"Thou shall not bear false witness against thy neighbor," the minister boomed in his deep voice, staring right at James.

   He fought the urge to bolt.  This must be the feeling of conviction she'd mentioned.  He tried to tune the pastor's voice out as he spoke about lying and all its evil implications, but he could not.  He turned to look at Ireland. She smiled sweetly, having no idea of the struggle that went on within him.  She pointed to her forehead, a signal that he needed to swipe the hanky over his own again.  James told himself that once this was over, he'd never tell another lie, at least not to this innocent, trusting girl.

By the time the choir sang for the invitation, his cold sweat had subsided and the damp handkerchief remained the only evidence of his bout with nerves.  Landi held his hand until the end of the service when they rose to leave.  Like the last time, the minister greeted people as they filed out through the foyer.  He shook Jim's hand, thanked him for coming back, and said he hoped to see him again soon, giving him a penetrating stare along with a friendly smile.

"I'd like to take you somewhere," James said as he pulled his car to a stop in front of Landi's apartment.

"Where?" she asked when he opened her door and helped her from the vehicle.

"Up the coast.  I know a place where we can have a nice lunch and then hang out on the water.  I can be back here in an hour if you'd like to change."

Landi considered his offer.  She loved the idea of spending the day with him.  Maybe she could get some answers out of the man regarding his strange behavior.

"That sounds nice," she heard herself say.

"Great.  Just throw on some jeans and bring a sweater," he called over his shoulder as he jogged to his car.

An hour later, they were speeding up Pacific Coast Highway.  He'd lowered the top of his sports car, and the sea air smelled wonderful.  Landi had swapped her dress for blue jeans and a pink sweater set.  She'd put a white bandana in her hair so the wind wouldn’t wreak havoc on her unruly mane.   Canvas tennis shoes added to her youthful appearance.  If not for the sunglasses, she could pass for a junior high student from a distance.

In Oxnard, he pulled off the main road and parked around a corner from a charming café.  Bougainvillea hung over and around the entrance to the restaurant like heavy, formal draperies.  The hot pink color drew the eye
and
customers inside.  An aroma of garlic, shallots, and melting butter filled the air, stimulating Ireland's appetite.

As she glanced around, she noticed that young couples filled the place.  Occasionally, she spotted a table with three or four men, but they appeared no older than thirty either.  It seemed a bit odd.

"How did you find this place?" she asked after they'd been seated.

"The military has a linguist school nearby," he whispered.  "It's a popular spot when guys want to get off base and enjoy some fine dining."

That explained the clientele. 

"Did you study there?" she asked.

"Yes, for a year.  That's when I discovered Henri's.  The food is amazing here.  Would you like me to order for you?"

"Please."  She nodded.

An older man approached the table and greeted Jim with a toothy smile.  James rose and hugged the man, then introduced the owner to Ireland.

"This is my girl.  Henri, Ireland.  Ireland, this is Henri, owner of the best French restaurant in Southern California."

The older gentleman made a deep bow, reached for Landi's hand, and placed a kiss on her knuckles.

"So pleased to meet you, Mademoiselle Ireland."

"Thank you," she said, blushing.

Landi wasn’t sure how to respond to this kind of greeting.  She felt like she should curtsy or take some such action, but decided to remain seated since the two men didn't seem to expect anything more of her.

James discussed the day's special with Henri, and when the owner volunteered to provide them with a special tasting menu, he jumped at the opportunity.  When left alone, he let his excitement show.

"We're in for quite a treat, Landi.  I hope you're feeling adventurous."

  After a delicious appetizer, the ingredients of which puzzled her, a waiter brought mixed green salad dressed with warm shallots in oil. Later, he presented them each with a large
gougère stuffed with a delicious concoction of mushrooms, tomatoes, and sliced ham.  Ireland could taste the sharp cheese in the puff pastry.

"It's delicious," she replied when Henri came by to check on them.

The proprietor smiled. 

"You will permit moi to chose the final course, non?"

"Of course, Henri.  We'd be honored," James said.

The older man dashed off, a pleased expression on his face.

"Did you come here often when you were in school?" she asked.

"Every chance I could," he said, laughing. 

She imagined him bringing dates here for romantic dinners.  No wonder he brought her at lunch.  Then again, he had introduced her as his
girl
.  A waiter interrupted her musings with dessert.  He placed something called a pear and cherry clafouti in front of Ireland and a hazelnut dacquoise before Jim.

"Let's share," James suggested.

Ireland responded with a dubious expression.  She'd seen him in action too many times to give him a carte blanche with their last course.

"Come on.  I won't hog anything," he promised.

She tucked one corner of her mouth under a cheek and rolled her eyes towards heaven.  Then she assented with a nod.  Landi closed her eyes as a bite of the clafouti melted in her mouth.  The taste was somewhere between a baked pudding and a bread.  Tart cherries and the texture of sliced pears contrasted with the creamy, sweet filling.

"Mmm, this is phenomenal," she said, opening her eyes and smiling.