Falling For Her Boss (7 page)

"Onions."

She'd been thinking how large his hands were, how hot his skin was, how green his eyes were.  "Onions?"

"I like to chop and saute them before I dump in the eggs."

Saute.  This undeniably masculine male knew the meaning of saute.  She eyed him suspiciously.  "Did you ever take cooking lessons?"

He grinned and her stomach lurched.  "Nope.  Betty Crocker's cookbook is the bible in my kitchen.  I read it cover to cover when I was twelve."

"Why?"

His grin disappeared.  "Because I was tired of canned soup and it was one of the few things in the house to read.  I didn't have a computer then to get the info...or recipes I wanted."

From the little Noah had said about his background, she'd suspected he hadn't had a "normal" childhood.  She hadn't, either, but hers was due to choice rather than circumstance.  "We had books galore lying around, but I never had time to read them.  And a computer.  But I was busy with everything that had to do with skating."  She was suddenly more curious than she wanted to be about his years growing up.  "It sounds as if you were on your own a lot."

He cut the eggs in quarters and flipped them.  "My dad cut out soon after I was born.  My mom was too busy working in cocktail lounges and looking for singing gigs to think about much else."

Meaning she was too busy to think about him.  Francie didn't know what to say.  She glanced over her shoulder, wondering if her father had heard.  But he seemed to be engrossed at the laptop.  "You said you have no family.  Your mom..."

"Died the year after I graduated from college."

"I'm sorry."

"So am I.  That year I could have helped her.  I finally had some money..."  He shook his head and went silent.

Francie sensed he didn't want more questions.  She could understand the need for privacy.  That's all she'd wanted when she'd come back to Gettysburg.  And her family had given her that, for the most part.  Except for her mother.  She had prodded and poked till she learned the whole story.  She'd probably told the family, but no one had questioned Francie.

Who did Noah have to support him?

"Noah?"  When he looked at her, she couldn't ask.  There was too much sadness in his eyes.  She realized his support came from an inner strength he'd somehow developed.

She wanted to take that sadness away.  So she smiled.  "How are the eggs?"

He smiled back.  "Finished."

As they ate breakfast, Francie's father kept the conversation flowing with Noah.  As Paul finished his last forkful of eggs, he declared, "I've made up my mind."

"About?" Francie asked.

"I want a laptop with the same programs that Noah has.  "Noah, if you're not too busy, would you go to the electronics store with me and point out what I need?"

Noah looked pleased.  "Sure.  I have an appointment at two but until then I'm free."

Francie suspected what that appointment was about.  "Does it concern the rink?"

Paul arched his brows at his daughter.  "Maybe it's personal."

Noah wiped his mouth with his napkin and laid it on the table next to his dish.  "I have an appointment with a real estate agent."

Francie wasn't surprised, but it was a blow just the same.

"I'm going to show him the rink," Noah continued.  "Can you be there?"

"No, I'm busy then."

Paul broke the tense silence with an admonishing look at his daughter because she hadn't explained further.  "Francie reads to a kindergarten class every Monday afternoon."

Francie hopped up from her chair and collected her father's dish.  When she reached for Noah's, he said, "I'll bring it in."

She went to the kitchen and loaded the dishwasher.  Noah placed his plate in the slot behind hers.  "You knew what I intended to do."

She rearranged a few of the dishes.  "But I thought you might wait a few days, at least."

His voice came over her shoulder, clear and determined.  "I need to get appraisals.  I have to start somewhere.  If all goes well, I can get it listed by next week."

The dishes forgotten, she spun around.  "I thought you were going to give me some time to show you—"

His green regard was as direct as his reasoning.  "With the market the way it is, this could be a long process, Francie.  It could take months.  I have to get the ball rolling."

Rolling right over her and the rink.  She dropped the silverware into its caddy.

Ignoring her frosty dismissal, his voice softened.  "Tell me why you read to a kindergarten class."

He was attempting to divert her attention.  She might as well let him, because arguing wouldn't serve any purpose except to increase the tension between them.  She said curtly, "I like kids."

"You're with kids at the rink all the time."

"Reading to them is different.  I have their full attention.  Their eyes get so big and wide. They ask questions.  There's this connection between us.  They learn from me.  I learn from them."

He leaned against the counter, crossing one ankle over the other.  "What do you learn?"

Noah had a way of listening that led her to respond spontaneously.  "That kids have the innate curiosity to learn and if we don't tamper with it, but rather guide it, they'll take off like shooting stars."

"It sounds as if you'd like to do more than read to them."

"I'd like to teach them," she mused softly and suddenly realized she'd said it aloud.  Noah was too easy to talk to.  She took the dishwashing detergent from the cabinet, poured it into the door, and flipped closed the compartment latch.

"Why don't you?"

"Because I need a degree."

"Do you want to go back to school?"

"It takes more than wanting, Noah.  All my life, I've felt I've been preparing, not living.  It's hard to explain."

The seriousness of his voice belied his casual pose.  "You could go back to school and live."

"I've been thinking about it.  But I've been away from books for eight years.  And college is a major commitment."

"But it could be your future."

She studied him, looking for an ulterior motive for his encouragement.  If she went back to school, he could feel less guilty about selling the rink.  "I'd still need a job while I'm going to school.  I have to support myself."

"Maybe you could enroll in a work-study program."

Didn't he just have all the answers?  Even if she did that, a part-time job such as work-study offered wouldn't take care of all her living expenses.  "I could look into it."

He uncrossed his ankles, straightened, and probed her heart with his gaze.  "You're afraid to go back."

She shouldn't feel so vulnerable around him.  She shouldn't feel as if he knew her, because he didn't.  "What makes you such an authority?"

He leaned forward and she thought he was going to touch her.  Instead, he shoved his hand into his pocket.  "Do you think I haven't known fear, Francie?  But I've learned to face it and do what I need to do anyway."

"Maybe you're stronger than I am," she said softly.  She thought about her last practice with Brent when they'd tried to execute a complicated lift and he'd dropped her.  She remembered the reason why.  Was she hesitating about going to New York because she didn't want to face that fear and those memories, either?

"Maybe you don't know your own strength."

The more she talked with Noah, the more complex he seemed, and the better he seemed to know her.  Turning away from the power and knowing in his green eyes, she closed the dishwasher door.  "Going back to school is more complicated than sitting down with a new computer program."  To herself she added, So was going to New York and skating with Brent.

Noah's voice was firm and as penetrating as his gaze.  "More complicated, but not so different, either.  Have you made a decision about skating?"

She had pushed Brent and skating to a think-about-tomorrow corner of her mind—until now.  "No."  If Noah wanted her future settled so it wouldn't affect his, she wasn't going to oblige him.  Not until she was sure about what she wanted to do.  The question was—when would she be sure?

****

Sipping her chocolate milkshake on Thursday evening, Francie sat with Gina in the snack bar at Roller-Fun.   Every few minutes Gina checked her watch and glanced toward the doors.  Francie had been delighted when Gina told her she'd bring Jake in to meet her.  Besides, in addition to the opportunity to build a better relationship with Gina, Francie appreciated the distraction.  She practically jumped out of her skin whenever Noah came close, so she'd avoided him as much as she could.  But she couldn't avoid the real estate agents who'd paraded through the rink all week, asking her questions.

Turning her thoughts back to Gina, Francie tried to reassure her.  "He's only five minutes late.  Relax."

Gina stripped the paper from her straw and plopped it in her shake.  "He gets tied up sometimes.  Maybe he decided..."

"Skating isn't the 'cool' thing to do?" Francie finished.

Gina grimaced at her sister's terminology.  "Something like that."

"You know, we soon have to get everyone together to finish planning Mama and Pop's anniversary party.  What do you think about meeting here tomorrow evening?"

"That's fine," Gina said absently, then broke into a wide smile as she stood and waved her arm at a young man to attract his attention.

Francie studied the teenager who swaggered toward their table.  He was undeniably good-looking, his shaggy hair defying the new shorter looks.  An air of defiance accentuated his stance and glowed from his eyes.  Francie saw immediately why Gina was attracted to him.  He was everything Gina was not.  Rebellious.  Daring.  Probably a risktaker.

Tight black denims hugged Jake's hips.  His silver studded leather jacket was unzipped, revealing a black T-shirt underneath.  He put his arm around Gina and stooped to give her a long, full kiss, then looked at Francie as if expecting a comment.  She didn't give one.

With a half-smile, he said, "Gina's told me a lot about you.  You're famous."

He looked as if fame was one thing that might impress him.  "Not anymore."  Francie extended her hand.  "It's good to meet you."

He took her hand briefly then slid into the booth beside Gina, scanning the rink.  "I haven't been inside this place in years."

"You and Gina are welcome any time."

He narrowed his eyes.  "So you can keep your eye on us?"

"Why would you think that?"

His expression told her he hadn't expected her to challenge him.  "You're Gina's older sister.  Families are usually nosy."

Gina looked uncomfortable and Francie was determined to handle this as tactfully as she could.  Whatever was going on with Gina, Francie didn't want to alienate her further.  "I care about Gina.  But I made the offer because I thought you two might have fun here.  Lots of teenagers do."

"Yeah, well, I'm not like lots of teenagers.  Neither is Gina."  He patted her hand.  "At least she's finding that out."

Francie wondered exactly what they had been doing on their dates.

Gina quickly explained, "Jake has college friends.  We spend a lot of time with them."

Doing what?  Francie wondered.  Instead of asking, she tried to make the conversation base broader.  "Are you and Gina taking the same classes?"

"Social studies is about it.  Gina's headed for college.  I'm not."

"What do you plan to do?"

His expression became wary.  "Work on the race-car circuit.  I work with a mechanic now.  We soup up cars."

"For race tracks?"

"Not exactly."  He shot a quick look at Gina.  "Some kids race on highways, not speedways."

Gina averted her gaze and looked down at her pink-tipped fingernails.

But Jake looked straight at Francie.  "Not when anyone else is on the road, of course."

Gina mumbled, "They do it at three or four in the morning."  She raised her chin.  "It's not as bad as it sounds."

"That's good, because it sounds dangerous."  Francie was ready to talk her father into locking Gina in her room until she was twenty-five.  But that wouldn't create a bond of trust between her and her sister.  Criticizing Jake in front of Gina wouldn't work, either.

Noah appeared beside their table, and Francie wondered if  he'd overheard the conversation.  He smiled at Gina and asked, "Are you ready to skate?"

Gina leaned closer to Jake.  "This is Noah Gordon.  He owns the rink."

Jake's brows raised.  "Really?  So you're Francie's boss."

"I own the rink.  Ms. Piccard runs it."  Noah said to Francie, "There's a message for you on the rink's answering machine.  It must have come in over the dinner break."

"Is it urgent?"

"It can probably wait, but you're the best judge of that."

Jake slid toward the edge of the booth.  "We don't want to keep you.  Gina and I are meeting some friends in Biglerville."

Gina looked surprised as if it was the first she'd heard about it.  "Yeah, that's right."

Noah moved away so Jake could get out.  "It's a shame you aren't going to stay.  We play a mix of music on Thursdays."

"I'm into rap," Jake muttered as he slid out and stood.

"What about you, Gina?" Noah asked.

"I like lots of different music–and I'm into rap."

Francie knew better.  Gina liked rock and had never been ashamed to admit it before.

Jake curved his arm around Gina's waist and led her to the lobby.  But Gina stopped and looked at Francie over her shoulder.  "Thanks for the offer of free passes.  Maybe another time."

Francie picked up her milkshake and slid out of the booth.  Another time and another boy.  She had a feeling Jake wouldn't be caught dead on roller skates.  But she wouldn't give up trying.  "Saturday's teen night.  If you and Jake would like to come then..."

Jake turned and tossed over his shoulder, "We'll let you know."

His attitude annoyed Francie, and more for his sake than Gina's, she said, "Remember, this is a school night."

The corners of Gina's mouth turned down and she shot Francie a dark look.  "I know my curfew, Francie.  I remembered it just fine when you weren't around."  Without a backward glance, Gina let Jake lead her out of the snack bar toward the exit.