She's Out of Control (14 page)

“Let's take it back, Hans.”

But I know jewelry here is not something you take back. And Hans just shakes his head. “That's worse! Then it looks like I didn't get my way and took the jewelry back.”

Confession: I didn't think Sophia was smart enough to read a credit card statement.
But I imagine when you start your relationship off on the wrong foot, it stays there indefinitely.

We enter the hotel. Hans stops and leans against the wall, crossing his arms and ankles. “I know what you think of me, Ashley, but let me tell you something: marriage is hard work. When one partner stops working, it's nearly impossible, and you don't want to enter into that with someone who won't go the distance. You need a marathon man, not a sprinter.”

“Who stopped working at your house?”

“My wife left me for another man. She took the kids and went when she got tired of my long hours at the office, and I suppose my wandering eye didn't help.”

“I thought you left with Sophia.”

“No, basically Sophia got left with me. No green card and no work without the kids. The rest just sort of happened. We were convenient.”

“It's not impossible, Hans. If you still love your wife . . .”

“I've been married twice. I'm no good at it.” He waves two fingers around in his casual way. “But you . . .” His lanky forefinger comes toward me. “You've got a chance to start fresh. Start right. Start with someone who will pay you the right kind of attention. Someone who will buy you a ring out of love.”

“You've got a chance, too. Jesus specializes in second chances. He really does, Hans.” I tip my eyes towards the sky.

He sighs at me. “You've done your shopping. Tomorrow, you work. No more preaching.”

“Fair enough. Good night, Hans.”

So here I am, sitting in my private hotel room (Hans closed both sets of doors) with expensive jewelry on the nightstand and a lump in my chest.
Why do I try to fix things? I only make it worse. Now I look like a kept woman, who's been bought with a price. I feel even emptier than when I started this trip.
I reach for the Bible in my suitcase when the work international cell phone rings.

“Hello. Ashley Stockingdale.”

“Ashley, it's Seth. Are you ready to talk about my leaving?”

I inhale thickly.

“I'm ready.” I sniffle. I look at the ring on my nightstand and am suddenly faced with all my lost dreams. Perhaps they were pathetic in nature, but dreams aren't supposed to make sense. Like that shoe one, for instance.

“You didn't give me a chance to explain,” Seth accuses.

“I think I did.”

“Ash, I wanted to invite you along,” he says, and I gasp an exhilarated sigh, when he continues. “There's patent work there too. They really need help in their telecommunications areas, and I think it would be a good experience for you.”

Hans's words come back to haunt me about Seth not wanting to marry me. He doesn't even want to sleep with me, which in this culture is more than pathetic. I wish I could forget his kisses and his warm breath in my ear at the theater. I wish I could focus on making my dreams come true with someone else. Someone who didn't have all these fears and hang-ups, not to mention the bad wardrobe. But I didn't come equipped that way. I have this fierce loyalty that snaps on me like an alligator every time. I'm basically a marionette clutched in the jaws until the alligator decides to let go.

God, You are bigger than this. Please . . . fix this.

After a long pause, I find the strength to answer him with the harsh truth. “I don't want to go to India.”

“Sure you do,” Seth says. “You loved working for Purvi back at Selectech, and the Indian culture is great. You love the food, the people. I don't understand.”

Finally, I'm annoyed. “Seth, I can't go to India with you. What would Pastor Romanski think? This is just one more extension of being your buddy. Take Sam with you if you want company.”

“Sam isn't qualified to go there.”

That's it. I've got nothing to lose.
“When you kiss me, do you want to be my friend? It doesn't
feel
like you want to be my friend, but I'm not a very good judge, I suppose.”

He pauses before speaking, and he breathes a jagged breath. “No, quite frankly, when I kiss you I want to ravage you—all of you—which is why I err on the side of safety. Our Christian faith is more important than my desires.”

But there's this thing called marriage that makes that lust legal
. “You're not a priest. You don't have to live your whole life that way, you know?”

“I asked you to marry me once, Ash, and you said no.”

“That wasn't really a proposal. That was more of forfeiture.”

“Can we talk about this when you get home? I'm an engineer, Ash. I'm not going to do this right. Tell me what you want, and I'll do it.”

“You won't be there to talk when I get home. Hans says that you would know by now if you wanted to marry me. That you don't really want to get married, and I might be the good-for-now girl.”

“Hans is a fifty-year-old man who left his wife and kids for the stupid nanny. And I do mean
stupid
. He's old enough to be her father, possibly her grandfather. Are you actually confiding in him about me?”

“No, but . . .”

“Ash. I know I have a lot of issues. I grew up on the other side of the world, and things are different here. I'm not like Cary Grant in those old movies you watch. I just don't know what I want. In the meantime, you need to stop talking to Hans, and don't ever take any of his advice.”

“Deal,” I submit. But I have to admit, my heart is more done with this relationship than I'd like to admit. I'm tired of being second-best. I'm tired of feeling inferior and waiting like a lovesick puppy for him to throw me a bone.

Speaking of which, I hear squeals and a few yelps. “Rhett's here at work with me. Do you know how ridiculous I feel telling people my dog's name is Rhett Butlah? I'm already older and single, so you know what they think.”

I start to giggle. “‘Frankly, my dear . . .'”

“Come home, Ashley,” he says with a heat I didn't think he could feel. “At least meet my boss and talk to him about the job.”

“India smells like raw sewage, Seth.”

“I'll wear cologne.”

“My plane gets in at eight a.m. not this Saturday, but next.” I relent. Why do I always relent?

“I'll be there.”

“Good night, Seth.”

“Sleep tight.”

We hang up the phone, and it's settled. I am Alice on the Brady Bunch. Seth knows just which buttons to push to get me running.
Lord, if he's not the one for me, please free me. Take me out from under his spell.

13

T
he fog hangs over San Francisco like a thick, woolly blanket that softens the edges of everything and blots out most of the morning's rays. The airplane's wheels touch the ground with a screech, and soon Ashley emerges from the runway, flushed from her long night's travel yet sporting a healthy pink glow. She tosses her hair back with manicured nails, and her body warms at the sight of her one true love.

Seth is standing, ankles crossed, leaning against his BMW—a brand-new 745iL. Rhett is in his arms and jumps from a dangerous height to rush and greet Ashley. She scoops up the puppy, allowing him to rain kisses upon her cheek, while she breathes in the salty San Francisco Bay air and exhales deeply.

“I'm so glad to be home,” she yells over the roar of the airplanes.

“We're so glad to have you home.” Seth embraces her tightly. “Rhett and I missed you with a passion. Life is not the same without you.”

“I don't know what to say. I'm sure you both did fine.” She giggles and twists her finger into her hair.

“No, we didn't do fine.” Seth bows to one knee. “We can't manage life on our own, Ashley. We need you like a flower needs the sun.” He lifts his hand to the sky. “Like the earth needs the rain. We were parched without you. Desperate and dehydrated.”

“I'm here now.” Ashley sinks to her knees and kisses Seth.

“Don't ever leave us again.” Seth holds out a ring, a spectacular radiant cut diamond. “Marry me, Ashley. Marry us. Don't leave us again.”

“Oh Seth—” Ashley falls into Seth's arms.

“Ma'am, can you put your seat back up? We're landing soon.” A perky flight attendant jars me from the perfect dream.
Parched! Seth was parched, for heaven's sake
.

“Yeah, sure.” I put the seat up and look at Hans, who is smiling in amusement. “What?”

“That Seth must be quite the hero,” he says with one eyebrow raised. “You had a smile on your face that defies explanation.”

I rub my face, feeling the red color my cheeks. “Never mind. Did you get any work done?”

“Tons, until you decided to have an interactive dream. It was quite entertaining. You talk in your sleep, you know.”

I think this is the most embarrassing moment of my life. And trust me, that's saying something
. “Don't tell me what I said. I don't even want to know. Just tell me what you think of my patent work on this trip.”

“I think you're a genius. A genius who is adorable when she talks in her sleep.”

“That just sounds bad. Don't say that.” I take out my Bible threateningly.

“Okay, I give up. Do you promise not to preach at me?”

“You'd do well to pick up this Book yourself, but I promise not to read anything out loud, at least for now. If, that is, you promise to give up the talk about anything I do in my sleep. The glass ceiling is thick enough; I don't need rumors starting around the office.”

“Very well. I'm anxious to see your friend Seth again. He must be one of those guys who compensates for his looks in other ways.”

“I beg your pardon. Seth is extremely good-looking. A hottie, in fact.”

“Ugh, don't say that word. You sound twelve. It reminds me of Sophia and I'm not ready to see her yet.”

And I thought I made things difficult. “Do Sophia a favor, Hans. Send her home.” I shove everything under the seat in front of me as I feel the plane descend further. “You never did tell me what happened to your wife. Did she marry the other guy?”

“They're living together.”

“With the kids?” My fingers fly to my mouth. “I'm sorry, that's really none of my business.”

“Ashley, I've taken Gainnet from a fledging start-up to a $250 million company. Let's talk about something I've done right, okay? Even something that
you've
done right is a better topic: Sophia will love the ruby you picked for her. Thank you.”

“And thank you for this.” I hold up the exquisite sapphire ring. “I never could have bought it without your bartering.” Though I must admit the ring hasn't brought me nearly the amount of joy I thought it would. It hasn't relieved any of the pain of Seth's long, slow rejection, and the loss of my own feelings towards him.

Hans taps my finger. “You have excellent taste. That piece is classically Renaissance. It will never go out of style. Jewelry should always be like that, never trendy. My father was a jeweler in Prague, and you have a very good eye.”

“I guess it's a gift,” I say. “But I thought you were from Austria.”

“I am. My father was a jeweler in Prague.”

All righty, then.
My boss's life is more complicated than a hybrid circuit board. But I'm enjoying Hans. If it's possible to enjoy your slithering yet utterly charming boss. We have this camaraderie where we dispense with formality and just lay it on the line. I love that. I don't have to hide my Christianity in a closet, and he doesn't have to try and pretend his lifestyle doesn't offend me. Naturally, it's an affront to women everywhere for him to keep a woman he doesn't love out of sheer convenience. When Hans dies, his obituary will be about what he did—
PROFITABLE GAINNET CEO DIES
. He could be so much more than that, but I fear he'll never explore his better side.

As we descend, I'm reminded that no matter how many times I land at SFO, I hate to land at SFO. When you come in over the San Francisco Bay, you can't see anything but water. And as you get closer and closer to the water, you start to panic until the wheels touch the ground, and you suddenly view cement, which by now you want to kiss with reverence.

After a fairly quick line, we exit customs. Sophia is waiting for Hans, and comes running to him, sort of like I dreamed Seth would run to me. Of course, Seth is nowhere to be found, and even though my feelings have changed, I'm still disappointed.

By now Sophia is draped around Hans like a knit shawl. She's wearing straight-leg espresso-brown leather pants with a cashmere sweater, and she looks like she just stepped off the runway. The final touch is her gorgeous glittery lip gloss—just the thing most women wear at eight a.m.

I don't think I'll ever see Sophia the same way after this trip. I'll certainly never be envious again. Maybe she's not the sharpest knife in the drawer, but she's holding on so tightly to something
so
wrong for her. In that way, I'm starting to see that she's not that different from me. The truth is, I haven't committed my relationship with Seth to the Lord in a long time. I was always afraid the answer wouldn't be what I wanted.

Hans, meanwhile, seems completely oblivious to Sophia's presence, and it grieves me like a lost relative. Will he ever value anyone? Or will he just go through life not feeling anything because emotions hurt too much?

“I'll see you Monday, Ashley.” Hans salutes me.

“Good-bye Ashley,” Sophia sings out in her beautiful Italian way. “Thank you for taking care of my Hans.”

I wave them both off and begin to look around for Seth. After a thorough search of the international terminal, I jog outside, secretly hoping my dream has a basis in reality, but he's not at the curb either.
Come on, Seth,
I mumble with vehemence. I turn on my cell phone and see there's a message. Punching in my code, I hear Seth's voice and my eyes close.