Can't Buy Me Love (10 page)

Lena
set down the last of her burger on her plate and wiped her hands on her napkin.
Pushing the plate away from her, she took a long drink of water, tucked her
hair behind her ears, and fixed Chase with a serious gaze. “OK. So here’s my
story. I love my dad, though he annoys the crap out of me, and I’m quite
furious with him at the moment. Still, I know that he worries about me. He
really just wants me to be safe and protected, and he has a very hard time
realizing that I take care of myself, and quite well.”

“So
he wants you to find someone and settle down.”

“More
or less, yes.”

“The
more being that he wants you to marry someone with money. The less being...?”

“That
he’s not so worried about
me
finding someone, as he is about
him
finding someone
for
me.”

Chase
looked perplexed. “Your father is wealthy. Why does he care if you marry a rich
man or not?”

Lena
shrugged. “He apparently worries about similar issues as you do. Just as you’re
concerned that all women want from you is your money, which is complete crap,
my father worries that all men want from me is my inheritance after his death. Which
is also crap, and kind of unflattering if you think about it, but he might be
speaking from experience here,” she said, thinking of Jeanette. “Anyway, I
guess Dad figures that if the guy is already wealthy, that takes the risk of
gold-digging out of the equation. Of course, he forgets that he disinherits me
every few weeks, so no guy is ever really going to know if I’ve got money
coming to me or not,” she grinned. “But anyway, I digress.”

“Sorry.
Go on.”

“After
I graduated from college, I traveled around for a bit, then came back to the
States and started looking into graduate schools. Dad would have gladly paid
for law school or medical school, but when I told him I was going to work
toward a Masters’ degree in social work, I thought he was going to have a stroke.
He said ‘over my dead body’, and I said that I’d rather he didn’t die, but that
I was going to do what I wanted to do. With or without his help.” She shrugged.
“It turned out that I did it without any assistance, which was really good for
me. I got to be a poor grad student for a couple of years, ate ramen noodles,
panicked over making the rent... I met some great people, and made friends I’ll
have for life. And it turned out that I liked that life a whole lot better than
the one that my parents led. So when I graduated, I stayed on for one more year
to finish up an advanced degree in Spanish and one in public administration,
and then I went to work for the state’s social services department.”

“And
then?”

“Social
Services is a hard agency to work for. A lot of bureaucracy. I ended up banging
my head on my keyboard on a daily basis, so I knew I needed to make a change
for my own sanity. When the job at the shelter opened up, I applied and got it.”

Chase
asked the question that he’d been curious and concerned about for weeks. “Lena,
do people at Helping Hands know your background?”

She
put out her hand, spread her palm, and waved it back and forth a few times. “A
few do. Very few. Janie and Frank both know. I don’t hide it, but I don’t
advertise it either. The biggest danger in terms of my privacy is getting my
picture in the paper, but I actually don’t worry too much about it – not many
of our shelter staff or the people we help have time to read the society pages.”

“Seems
like you might be at risk if people knew.”

“Yeah,
maybe. Though it’s my father who is rich, not me. Still, I’m careful, without
outright lying to people.”

“Wow.
So how does your father feel about your work now?”

“He
hates it. Well, that’s harsh. But he’d be a lot happier if I were just a donor
to the cause, rather than the person in charge of the facility.”

“He
must hate your apartment,” Chase grinned.

“He
does.”

“And
your car.”

“Yup.”

“And
your wardrobe.”

“And
my dog, my friends, my food preferences, my taste for a good beer, my enjoyment
of the Rockies and the Broncos, and pretty much everything that makes me me. But
like I said, he’s still my father, so I play the dutiful daughter when I can. And
when I date ‘nice’ men, he doesn’t worry as much.”

“So
what happens if you meet someone you really like? Someone who isn’t rich?”

She
shrugged. “It hasn’t happened. I’ve never met anyone, rich or poor, that I
thought I might like to be with for the long haul. And it might never happen.”

“But
if it does?”

“Then
I’ll deal with it. The one thing that my father has to hang over my head is
something I care very little about.”

“Money?”

“Well,
that. But social prestige. I’d be happy doing what I do, and staying well clear
of that life. And I live simply, on my own salary, so I don’t need his money
and I don’t ever ask him for anything. It really irritates the hell out of him,
which amuses me.”

“Wow.
So we’re quite the pair here. You date wealthy men exclusively to keep your
father happy, and I avoid women who date wealthy men exclusively.”

Lena
sighed. “Well yeah, apart from the ‘exclusively’ on my dating habits. I
have
managed to go out with one or two men that my father would not approve of. But
that’s not your point really. Logically, it would seem that we do not belong
together. At all.”

“I’m
not always a logical guy,” Chase admitted with a shrug.

“What
are you saying?”

“That
we should see where this takes us,” he said softly, reaching out and taking her
hand in his.

When
he put his hand on hers, the electricity that sparked between them was
palpable. And when Lena looked up into his eyes, she saw the same awareness of
that spark in his expression.
Uh oh
, she thought, not for the first
time.

“Lena,”
Chase said softly, his hand still holding hers.

But
Lena slowly pulled her hand away and tucked it back down on her lap, tearing
her gaze from his and looking anywhere but at Chase.
Breathe
, she
reminded herself.

“Lena,”
he said again.

“It’s
nothing, Chase,” she said at last, forcing her eyes to meet his. “It’s been an
emotional week. I should go. Thanks for inviting me to dinner.”

But
Chase shook his head slowly. "You're wrong if you think this is nothing,”
he said quietly, his voice husky with feeling. “This isn’t the first time that
you and I have felt this electricity. And it won’t be the last. I’d bet a lot
on that. In fact, I’m counting on it.”

But
Lena pushed back her chair. “I’m going to use the restroom. I’ll meet you at
the front door?”

Realizing
that pushing things with Lena was not a good idea, Chase let her go. But he
wasn’t giving in. Because the more time he spent with this woman, the more he
wanted to know her better. And he hadn’t felt that way about a woman in a very
long time.

Nine

While
Lena was no longer feeling obligated to attend social events to placate her
father, she had, months ago, promised her attendance at a gala to benefit the
Wounded Warriors. This was an annual event that she always enjoyed – mostly because
there were usually a lot of new faces in the room, including veterans, and that
meant a lot of interesting people to talk to. Chase was out of town over the
weekend, but Lena knew enough people who would be there that she had no qualms
about going alone. Plus, this was one event that Kat badly wanted to cater
someday, so it was a scouting trip for her benefit as much as anything else. Earlier
that week, Lena had asked Kat if she wanted to go along.

“Nah.
Thanks, Lena. I appreciate it, but the only way I enjoy an event like that is
if I’m in the kitchen preparing food for it. You know these things aren’t my
cup of tea at all, right?”

“I
do. But if you wanted to go for just a little while, I would promise to stay
with you the whole time, and to leave when you wanted to go.”

“You’re
a good friend. But no thanks. I’d rather stay and watch Winston, and hear all
about it when you get home. But please take photos this time!”

So
Lena had stocked her fridge with good food, cornered Winston to deliver a kiss
on the head, and slipped her phone into her evening bag. She managed to hide a
long gown under a normal coat by hiking the skirt up around her waist while she
walked out to her car, and breathed a sigh of relief when she pulled into the
parking lot of the venue where the gala was being held. Slipping out of her
coat, she let the gown fall to her ankles. She had chosen the fabric well – no wrinkles.
But this wasn’t a long-term solution, she thought. She couldn’t keep sneaking
in and out of her own home in evening attire.

Once
inside, Lena was pleased to see that she knew a lot of the people in the room,
but before beginning to mingle, she surreptitiously snapped a photo or two of
the tables, the food and the decorations for Kat. She was just putting her
phone back into her evening bag and getting ready to grab a glass of wine and
join some friends when she felt a presence next to her. Surprised, she looked
up into the grey eyes of a very tall, and still very handsome, elderly man. She
had seen him occasionally at these events, but she couldn’t recall ever
actually meeting him. So she was surprised when he spoke quietly, but sternly
to her.

“So
you’re seeing my grandson, are you?” he asked.

Lena
looked around her, half-expecting to find that he was talking to someone else. And
when she realized that there was nobody else within speaking distance, she
wondered if he had mixed her up with someone else.

“Excuse
me?” she asked. “I’m sorry, but I’m not sure we’ve met.”

“My
name is Charles Henry Hamilton.”

The
name clicked immediately. “Ah. You must be referring to Chase.”

The
old man nodded. “I don’t attend many of these functions. I’m getting too old,
too tired, and too easily irritated to enjoy them.”

Lena
laughed. “’Easily irritated’ is a trait I can get behind. I’m Charlene Magill,”
she said, offering the older man her hand. “Lena to my friends.”

“Then
why does Chase call you Charlene?” the old man asked astutely as he politely
shook her hand.

Lena
continued smiling. “I’m still figuring out whether he warrants ‘friend’ status.”

“As
opposed to ‘husband’ status?”

Lena
started in surprise, pulling her hand away instinctively. “Wow. That’s kind of
a cynical question, but OK. No, as opposed to ‘I-don’t-like-being-around-you-so-go-away’
status.”

“
I’m
the cynical one?”

“If
the shoe fits. I like your grandson, sir. But I’m not really looking for a
husband.”

“You’ve
been dating for quite some time.”

“Now
you sound like my dad.”

“Ah
yes. William Magill.”

Lena
looked up at her companion with interest. “Well, that wasn’t said with a great
deal of affection. How do you know my father?” she asked.

“He
was married to the daughter of my oldest friend.”

At
that, Lena looked up at the man in surprise. “Really? You’re a friend of Pops?”

“Who?”

“My
grandfather. My mother’s father. Philip Oliver Peters. The third.”

“And
you call him...?”

“Pops.
Partly because he’s my grandfather, and partly because of his initials.” At
that moment, the name clicked. “Wait a minute. You’re Charlie.”

“Charles,”
he corrected her, giving a slight bow.

“No,
I mean, Pops calls you Charlie. He tells stories about you all the time.” Lena
grinned broadly. “Oh my. Despite your very cynical view of my love life, it’s a
real pleasure to meet you, Mr. Hamilton. My grandfather gets a twinkle in his
eye every time he tells me about your days at Stanford.”

“He’s
a fine man, your grandfather.”

Lena
nodded emphatically. “Now that is one subject that we decidedly agree on.”

The
elderly man’s eyes narrowed as he took in the beautiful, well-dressed woman
standing in front of him.

“Ms.
Magill,” he said finally. “How about taking a spin with me on the dance floor
and you can tell me more about your intentions toward my grandson? And more about
you as well.”

Lena
smiled warmly. “Mr. Hamilton. The dance would be my pleasure. But I’m very sure
we can find a far more interesting and pleasant topic of conversation than my
relationship with Chase. Like gout. Or the plague.”

A
small grin toyed at the edge of the old man’s mouth as he led her out onto the
dance floor and took her hand, his other hand landing lightly at her waist. “I
think I am beginning to see why Philip dotes on you.”

But
Lena laughed. “Pops doesn’t dote. He just loves me.”

“He
tells me that you’re an independent young woman.”

“I
guess I am. Does he say that with pride or frustration?”

“Maybe
a bit of both.”

“When
did you see him last?” Lena asked.

“I
played golf with him about a month ago in Scottsdale.”

“Ah,
the life of my retired Pops. I’m glad. I need to get down there to see him. How
does he like the summers?”

“Hates
them. But he loves the winters, which is when he says that I should visit him. Even
in October, that last round of golf nearly killed me, and we had a 7:30 am tee
time.”

“Pops
is probably used to the heat by now – uses it as an advantage against his
opponents.”

“I
can’t quite get used to you calling Philip ‘Pops’.”

“Sorry.
My grandfather. Is that better?” she smiled.

“Probably,”
the older man grinned. “You do know that your grandfather is immensely proud of
you, right?”

Lena
smiled a genuinely happy smile at that thought. “I’m glad. I love that man. Damn,
I miss him. Oh, I’m sorry. I mean, I really miss him.”

Mr.
Hamilton chuckled. “You don’t need to censor your language for me, young lady. I
rather like a good cuss now and again. So Philip tells me that you’re a social
worker.”

Lena
raised her eyebrows. “Don’t say that with such disdain,” she protested. “It’s a
fine profession.”

“Not
a usual one for someone of your stature.”

But
Lena frowned. “Oh, screw stature. I’m just a person. The people I work with are
all fine people.”

The
older man grinned. “Good for you. Has your grandfather told you anything about
my background?”

“No,”
Lena said, shaking her head and looking up at him with interest. “Just that you
were roommates in college.”

“I
grew up in Pittsburgh. Steel town. My father worked at the local factory – came
home every night filthy dirty and exhausted. Barely made enough to put food on
the table, so my mother cleaned houses. There were plenty of nights we went to
bed hungry. So I think what you do is important, Lena. As does your
grandfather.”

Lena
smiled her thanks before adding, “Well, my father is less impressed.”

“Your
father grew up in a different world than your grandfather and I did. William
was the son of privilege. He never knew hunger, and he doesn’t want you to know
it. He’s just very protective of you.”

Lena
nodded. “I understand that. But I can’t just be a society girl, Mr. Hamilton. It’s
not me. It’s not in my blood. It’s not what my grandfather instilled in me. I
love what I do, and I love the people I work with.”

The
music ended, and Charles turned to Lena. “Thank you for the dance, young lady. Go
enjoy the rest of your evening. You’re young and beautiful, so you should be
dancing the night away. Even if you are dating my grandson.”

Lena
smiled. “Thank you. But if it’s all right with you, I think I’d rather hang out
with you for a while. I’m sure you have great stories to tell about Pops, and I
could use some new material to hang over his head. If you’re anything like my
grandfather, you love a good scotch, so I’ll go get you a glass of Dewar’s, and
find myself a glass of wine, and you can regale me with stories from college. Is
that OK with you?”

The
older man smiled widely. “More than OK. I’ll make all those young whippersnappers
incredibly jealous, but I’m up for it if you are. And I might have some stories
for you about my grandson, as well,” he chuckled.

Lena
laughed. “If you can find us a quiet spot, I’ll be there in a moment.”

As
the summer slowly drew to a close, and the leaves started to change, Lena still
hadn’t heard from her father. It was really OK in a lot of ways, she thought. It
had been like this years ago when she was in graduate school – her father was
convinced that his absence from her life was punishing, while Lena found it
more of a reprieve than anything else. Still, she remained concerned about her
step-mother, particularly when she occasionally saw her out in the evenings. Jeanette
seemed to avoid Lena as much as Lena was avoiding Jeanette and her father, so
there were no awkward moments. Lena and Chase continued to see each other
socially, but both of them were preoccupied with work these days, and while
their evenings together were far more enjoyable than they’d been months ago,
they were still fairly low-key. Still, they both sensed that, at some point,
they’d need to deal with the growing attraction between them. Just... not yet.

She
and her brother were occasionally in touch these days. Ned was making noise
about coming home sometime soon, and Lena let her enthusiasm for that prospect
be well known.

“Thank
God. Come and do something to get Dad mad at
you
for a while. It’s been
my turn for the last three years. I’d love to be the good child for once.”

“You
still work at that shelter? You still single? No grandkids on the horizon?” Ned
fired questions at her.

“Yes,
yes, and no grandkids.”

“Then
you’ll never be the good child.”

Lena
giggled. “Yeah. Unfortunately, you’re right. So seriously? You’re coming home?”

“Soon.
I’m still working on making us oodles of money. Your investment in me is paying
off, Lena. Soon, when Dad says he’s disinheriting you, you’ll be able to scoff
and say, ‘that small amount?’”

Lena
sighed. “Oh, I’m already disinherited again. I called him out on Jeanette’s
alcohol consumption. I swear, that man encourages her to drink.”

“I’d
drink too, if I were married to William. It’s bad, huh?”

“Yeah,
pretty bad. I see them out in the evenings occasionally, but Dad hasn’t spoken
to me in about three months.”

“So
there are benefits.”

“Ned,
you’re terrible.”

“I
know. But you know I mean no disrespect. And if there’s anything I can do to
help you convince Dad to get her help, I’ll do it.”

“I
don’t think there’s anything we can do. At this point, it’s up to her to accept
that she has a problem, and maybe up to him to help her see it.” Changing the
subject, she said, “So business is booming?”

“In
a big way.”

“And
it will continue to boom if you move back here?”

“It
should.”

“Then
what’s keeping you? There are plenty of flights into the US from New Zealand
every single damn day. Hop on one of them.”

“Well,
that’s helpful and all, but I’m not in New Zealand anymore.”

“Where
are you?”

“Japan.”

“Japan?
Aw geez. There are even more flights to the US from there.”

Ned
laughed. “Soon, Sis. I promise. In the meantime, keep your chin up. Dad and
Jeanette will eventually come around. And if not, it’s not your problem, OK?”

“OK.
And true. Miss you, Ned. Get your butt back here.”