On 4/19 (On 4/19 and Beyond 4/20) (14 page)

The next day, John sat with Mark discussing something that John could hardly pay attention to. Twice already, he’d asked Mark to repeat himself.

“So what’s going on exactly? You seem distracted.” Mark had noticed the change in John immediately upon his arrival from Sydney. As far as he knew, everything went well there.

“I’m thinking about bringing Chelsea on as an intern.”

John was by no means asking for Mark’s approval. While Mark was John’s right hand man, advisor, and second in command at KI, ultimately, John was the boss. Still, Mark asked, “What is the purpose? What role will she serve?” For every employee, there was justification for their existence. Dead weight was not only a drain on profits; it affected morale among the staff.

“Honestly, I want to teach her how to make her way in the business world. Isn’t that the gist behind any intern? They are there to shadow and learn. I’m paying her personally, so that’s not an issue for the company. I just want to give her some real world experience that she can take with her into her future.”

Mark remained silent, thinking. That moment was the first he realized that John was clearly developing deeper feelings for Chelsea. By no means would he call him on it, if anything he was strangely happy for him. Even with his earliest protests about her age, if John was opening himself up to Chelsea in even the smallest way, it was indeed a miracle. John was like the brother he never had, so watching his solitary life over the past decade was heartbreaking for him and Karen both. They discussed it early on after Tracy died, but after so many years, it just became who John was. Basically, they accepted it figuring he would always remain that way, closed off, unwilling to open up to anyone.

“Isn’t that what you’d want for Megan and Brit, someone to come alongside them in their perspective fields?”

Mark tried to keep a straight face. “You don’t have to convince me. I’m all for it. We’ll bring her in and allow her to learn from the best.” All he could think was how much he wanted to get out of John’s office so he could call Karen. She would rant and rave about it at first, but ultimately, she would be happy that John had found someone who was breathing a bit of life back into him. For both of them, he was family. Having to overlook the fact that Chelsea was the age of one of their
daughters wouldn’t be easy, but if it was what John wanted, they would support him.

It was after nine in the morning when John called. Chelsea had just come in from a run and was about to shower when the phone rang. What he suggested caused her to nearly squeal into the phone. He wanted her to come in to the office and begin an intern position. While he hadn’t clearly defined what it would look like, he wanted her to begin that day. They would meet for lunch and she would go with him back to the office.

Meeting at a restaurant near the KI building, Chelsea was the first to arrive. Once inside, she checked her outfit one more time. Feeling much more professional than she did when she worked with him in Sydney, she felt her slacks and jacket would make a better impression. She wanted to be taken seriously in whatever role he found for her. As she was driving to the restaurant the thought occurred to her, she’d be able to tell her parents she was an intern at KI. When they traveled, she could honestly say she was his intern. Before, saying that would’ve been a stretch of the truth, or more accurately, dishonest.

When John walked in and found her waiting, he could only smile. She looked very professional. Clearly, she was trying to look the part. Kissing her on the cheek, he apologized. “Sorry I’m running late. Have you been waiting long?”

“No, just a few minutes.” The touch of his lips on her cheek caused her to feel warm inside. Many times he’d done the very same thing, but this time, it felt different. Typically, he would brush her cheek lightly, but this time, he distinctly planted a kiss there. All the way to the table, Chelsea tried to hide the silly grin plastered on her face. With the feel of John’s hand on her back and the aftermath of his lips on her cheek, she floated alongside him as if she didn’t have a care in the world. In that moment, she truly didn’t.

As they ate, John explained some of his ideas for how he would utilize her at work. Primarily, he wanted her to oversee charitable contributions, as he was determined to make a shift in the way he was currently donating. She was to do the research on each organization, ensuring they were reputable, and provide recommendations to him and
Mark regarding what percentage of the whole they should give to each. Her responsibilities would also include following through with how the money was utilized and reporting back that information. Another idea he had was that she find something that the staff could be a part of. After such gratification while helping in even a small way in Sydney, John had a sense that most everyone would feel the same if given the opportunity to reach out to others.

“You do understand, this is just through April?”

A lump formed in Chelsea’s throat and she dropped her fork. Everything she was feeling, even the afterglow of his kiss diminished. Once again, he had to remind her of their terms. Of course she understood. He made sure of it. “I understand.”

From that point on, her lunch did not taste quite as good. The excitement she felt over the internship was overshadowed by the fact that he felt it necessary to remind her so often. She knew. She knew.

Back at the KI building, Chelsea was given a small cubicle on the same floor where John’s office was located. From that point forward, Irene helped her get her desk set up and ready to work, providing her with a computer and a phone. After that Chelsea was on her own to figure things out. Mostly, her research would be done online, so technically, she needed little else and had no reason to interact with others around her. Immediately, she felt like an island, excited, but a bit awkward as people tried to not-so-subtly find out what she did for KI. There were many questions, ones she wasn’t able to answer. The more she tried to dodge how she landed the internship, the more suspicious she must have seemed.

Later in the afternoon, she was called into a meeting with John and several other executives. Prior to walking into the meeting, he whispered to her, “You are just here to listen and learn. Anything you don’t understand or have questions about, write it down and we’ll discuss it later.” Other than those words, he didn’t address her at all throughout the meeting. Instead, he was more like the man she watched during the meetings in Sydney. Just as there, she could see that John commanded the respect of everyone in the room.

Mark was there, and just as their meeting had been that first time, their encounter this day felt a bit uncomfortable. Though she was certain no one else in the room knew the circumstances of their “arrangement,” Mark knew, and that caused Chelsea to feel a bit embarrassed. He was very kind, though, and seemed much more pleasant than that first meeting, but the fact that he knew would certainly keep him from taking her seriously. For as long as Chelsea was at KI, she had a sense that she would always feel like a fraud rather than someone who deserved the position. That feeling put a damper on her spirits nearly as much as the reminder that John felt obligated to give.

Over the next two weeks, Chelsea’s time at work was similar to her first day. She eagerly researched possibilities for donations, and every day John would send for her to attend one meeting or another. For the most part, he hardly ever addressed her while a meeting was in progress, but later in the afternoon, he would answer any questions she may have stemming from what she had heard. Next, they would discuss her research. The charities she suggested ranged from local Christian based-meal programs to clean water campaigns in Africa.

During that time, they saw each other frequently outside of the office. They attended one dinner party that was clearly business, one birthday party, again, business, but other than those, they mostly had dinner alone. Usually, he’d call at the last minute to see if she was available. He worked each night until at least seven. Not once had she known him to leave any earlier than that, and more often than not, he stayed until nine or past ten. What she at first deemed being driven, she presently considered being a workaholic. There was no other person at the company who arrived before John or left after him. Mark left at a normal hour along with everyone else, but John felt, for some reason, compelled to remain.

One night while she was cooking dinner for herself, he called to see if she wanted to have dinner out. When she told him she was cooking and invited him over, he seemed eager to come. She had never offered to cook for him since that would be outside the bounds of their agreement. She had feared he would detect the depth of her feelings for him if she
made such an offer, but his call at just the right time made it a casual invitation rather than something that might seem more romantic in nature.

When John walked through the door, the aroma of garlic and onion in the air took him back to the smells of home. In that moment, he was amused by how often Chelsea reminded him of his mother. Decades apart in age, still, they were similar women in many ways, especially the ones that mattered. Walking into the kitchen, he found her there shucking corn. Smiling at her, he said, “Hi, farmer’s daughter.”

“Hi, rancher’s son.” She grinned at him. There he was looking as if he’d stepped off the cover of a magazine and nothing like a rancher’s son. He was still wearing his jacket, which he normally shed as soon as he walked through the door. When he walked nearer and moved in to kiss her on the cheek, she tilted her head allowing him easier access. Something about the gesture shook her up on the inside. It was the most natural thing in the world to be making dinner for John. It seemed just as natural for him to come in from work and kiss her hello. How could he not see the intimacy that was forming? Sure, there was no physical intimacy, but there was a connection between them, something so comfortable and familiar that he had to take note of it.

Opening the oven door, the smell of chicken pot pie cooking in an iron skillet washed over him. “My mother makes hers in a skillet, too.”

“So does mine.” Handing him an ear of corn, she said, “I have a feeling your mom has handed you an ear or two of corn to shuck.”

“You better believe she has. When I was little, I can remember standing on a stool by the kitchen counter trying my best to get the silks off. They always frustrated me.”

“They frustrate everyone.”

Taking his corn and those she had already shucked, she rinsed and dried them, then placed them in a plastic bag, poured olive oil on them, and rolled them around so they were all evenly coated. Placing the bag in the microwave, she found him watching her intently. “You’ll see. It’s good this way.” Handing him plates and silverware, she sent him out to set the table.

The meal was wonderful. Another victory over his mother’s cooking, and he told her so. As they ate, John watched her every move, hardly
believing how he felt when he was with her, hardly believing she was so young. Soon after meeting her, he knew she was an old soul. He didn’t know many other women her age, really only Megan and Brittney, but he knew Chelsea was tremendously mature for her age. Mark’s girls were nowhere near as mature. Maybe being raised with such excess was to blame. While Mark and Karen raised them well, Chelsea’s upbringing on a farm made her an entirely different young woman. She was remarkable in every way.

Since she had been at the office daily, he had the opportunity to evaluate her skills in business. She was astute to be sure. Never once did he doubt her ability to do any job set before her. Her insight over most matters surprised him. When they met each afternoon, rather than asking questions as she did at first, she began to make observations and assessments. He was extremely proud of her. Still, if there was any fault to be found, it was the fact that she was much too kind. In comparison with many women executives he had known, Tracy included, Chelsea was maybe a little too timid to meet a man across a boardroom and gain his respect.

What she had gained, though, was the attention of many of the younger men at the office. Every single man under forty was interested. It was a source of constant wonder as to the relationship between Chelsea and John. Some supposed her to be his niece or maybe a family friend. He knew this because Irene kept him apprised of the water cooler talk. Of course Irene never divulged their relationship to anyone, since, as she put it, she wouldn’t begin to know how to explain it. For John, as much as he laughed such talk off when Irene told him about it, inside, it really was beginning to bother him. What if someone asked her out and she accepted? That would make for an awkward work environment, dating two men at the same company. He mostly convinced himself that she’d never consider such a thing, but the possibility still came to mind from time to time. Out of fear of that happening, he was sure to be around much more for her. Looking for any occasion to ask her to dinner or for her to accompany him to a party, he hoped to keep her busy enough so that she wouldn’t feel it necessary to date.

After dinner and once the dishes were done, they sat together on the sofa. John had been wondering when he might receive an invitation to hear her sing at church. So he asked, “When will you be singing?”

“This weekend. Are you coming?”

“You better believe it.” It was Thursday, so it was not so far away. “Do you get nervous before you sing?”

“No. I used to when I was younger, but not anymore.”

“How long have you sung in church?”

“Since I was seven.”

“Seven? Who sings in church at seven?”

“Chelsea Whittaker, that’s who.” While they were talking, he reached over and moved her bangs out of her eyes. It wasn’t the first time he’d ever done so, but this time, it felt distinctly intimate. There was that feeling of relationship again. Quickly, she looked down, fearing he would see her all googlie-eyed over him. It was one of those perfect moments where, if it had been a movie, he would have leaned in and kissed her softly. The thought of it caused her to look back up at him and wish he would. Instead, he said the one thing that could ruin what had been the most magical evening they had ever shared together.