Ben drove over to his parents’ house on Lake Washington in the Benny-Blaine neighborhood of Seattle late on Saturday morning for lunch. It would be good to see them again after eight weeks away, but he was not looking forward to their response to seeing him looking so gaunt. For weeks he waited for Anne to call his cell phone while he was in China. But she never called, and he knew now that he should have waited until he spoke with her in person before leaving the inn. Maybe then he could have convinced her to forgive him. But he didn't, and now he lost his chance.
He kept himself busy over the last several weeks trying to remove her from his mind once he realized that she would not call. It worked during the day because he had too much business to see to, but at night he would dream about her and remember being with her, seeing her laugh as they watched the ball game, her smile when they were out doing something together, and the glaze of passion that filled her eyes when he made love to her. His body ached as much as his heart. At one point he tried calling her cell phone again, but her number was disconnected, and he didn’t know her new one.
He was aware that she planned on being at the meeting on Monday morning, and seeing her there did not come as a surprise. He didn’t sleep a wink the night before because of his anticipation in seeing her and his fear at how she would react upon seeing him. What did come as a surprise was how much he wanted to take her in his arms the minute that he saw her so that he could hold her, just hold her, and apologize. Even if she did not accept his apology, he needed to give her one. He also needed to be honest, tell her how he really felt about her, and face her possible rejection.
She looked good to him even though she looked like she had also lost weight. But it was not the right time to talk to her on Monday. She acted so remotely that he found it difficult looking at her because the pain in his chest was too heavy. He remembered how quickly she removed her hand from his when Rudolph introduced them and how she would not look at him in the eye. After the meeting he decided he could not wait any longer to talk to her face to face and had gotten her address and telephone information from Bernie. His plan was to bring her dinner that evening. But then a call came from San Diego that he was needed there on Tuesday morning, and he left on Monday afternoon. He returned to Seattle around five pm yesterday afternoon, and that gave him just enough time to change into formal wear and make it to the award's dinner downtown.
The dinner went much as he expected it to, he remembered. He had hoped to see Anne there. Several Stanford Enterprise employees were in attendance. It wasn’t until after the award was given and people were milling around talking that Ben was glad that Anne was not in attendance. The situation would have been too explosive. It began when he was talking with Davis Wynn, the chairman of the foundation, and he felt a hand move up his arm almost stroking him. He looked over at who was touching him and just about tossed the woman’s hand off of his arm, which would have caused a scene. The hand belonged to none other than Chelsea who was doing her best to insinuate to Wynn that he and Chelsea were together.
As politely as he could, Ben excused himself from the conversation and walked to the bar for a glass of soda. She followed him. He could smell her liberally applied perfume that made her smell like a gardenia garden run amok. She put her hand on his arm, and he shrugged it away before he turned to glare at her. Right now he was too tired, too much in pain, and too revved up with anger directed toward her to stomach even a minute in her presence.
"What are you doing here, Chelsea?"
"I’ve come to support you, Ben. What do you think I’m doing here?" Ben was not fooled for one minute by her sugary sweet tone or her innocent expression. "I see your girlfriend is noticeably absent tonight. Did you break up, Ben? Not that I’m surprised. She got what she wanted. She may have only wanted a job. But I want you, Ben." She said the last sentence seductively and put her hand on his chest.
Ben grabbed her wrist and pushed her hand down. He did not let go. Right now, all he saw was red. After putting his glass of soda on the bar, he walked with Chelsea by his side out into the hotel lobby. When they were by the front desk, Ben asked the front desk clerk if there was a private meeting room available for just a few minutes. They were shown to a small conference room that looked like it was used by hotel staff for booking high profile events, and Ben closed the door when the clerk left. Chelsea, who stood beside him quietly up until this point, seemed to take encouragement by them being alone because she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him.
Ben pulled her arms from him and pushed her away.
"Chelsea, I’m only going to say this one more time. If you do not pay attention, I will get the law involved. There is nothing between us. There will never be anything between us ever again."
"Come on, Ben, honey. You’re not still mad about Dr. Conner are you? I was doing you a favor, darling."
"Watch how you talk about her, Chelsea. Anne is going to be my wife."
Chelsea laughed and swatted his arm playfully. "Not that again, Ben? How gullible do you think that I am?"
"It’s no joke, Chelsea. I’m marrying Anne. From now on, if there is any more of your stalking, any more of your snide comments or slanderous statements, you will be hearing from my attorney. I don’t care about our parents’ friendship. Stay away from me. Stay away from Anne. Do not push me on this. Goodbye." He left her standing there with a shocked expression on her face. The door closed behind him, and he heard her yell, damning him and Anne before he heard a crash as something broke. The clerk who showed them to the door looked up from her post with a worried expression when she heard the crash.
"Send the bill for any damages to me," Ben told her before he went back to the party to make his excuses to the host for an early departure.
Now, after another sleepless night, Ben thought about Anne. Earlier today he wanted to see if she was home, so he called her that morning and heard her voice instructing him to leave a message. He didn’t leave one but drove over to her house and knocked on the door. There was no answer, and her car was gone. After checking his watch, he decided that he would leave and come back after his lunch with his parents, and he would sit on her doorsteps for the rest of the day, if he had to, until she came home. The waiting to talk to her was nearly killing him.
It was a twenty-minute drive to his parents’ house, and he listened to the soulful sound of Brandi Carlile as he drove over the bridge. He steered his car through his parents' open front gate when he arrived at their home, and headed up the long driveway, not noticing the flowering plants that bordered the drive nor the lake in the background. As he looked at the French chateau style house that he had spent so much of his life in, he hoped one day that he could give Anne a similar one. It was a great place to raise children. He parked out front in their circular driveway and let himself inside the front door only to be met in the French country tiled entryway by Linda, his parents' housekeeper, who was on her way down the front staircase.
"Morning, Linda." He kicked off his worn sneakers and put them in the front hall closet.
"Morning, Ben. How was your trip? You went to China this time, wasn't it?" They began moving down the hall to the giant family room that looked out over the lake through a large picture window. The French doors that led out to a stone patio were open to let in the morning breeze that blew in off of the water. Right now it was comfortable outside, but by that afternoon, the doors would be closed again to block out the heat and humidity.
"My trip went well. You should see China, someday. Maybe I'll take you with me the next time I go." He gave her a rakish grin.
"You are such a flirt, Ben. You always have been." Linda laughed, and her ample bosom jiggled. Linda and her husband, Fred, had worked for Troy Carlson long before Ben's mother married him. Linda ran the house, and Fred handled the outdoor concerns. Their one daughter was grown by the time Ben and his mother moved in. Now, both in their early seventies, they could have retired
years ago but chose to stay with the Carlson family, and spent their summers in Seattle with them and their winters in Anaheim with their daughter. Over the years, Linda and Fred had become part of the family and were like additional grandparents to Ben and Lily. "I must say, they sure did not feed you when you were over there. Don't you worry. I made your favorites."
"Strawberry pie, too?"
"Strawberry pie, too. Your mother is down in the flower garden, and your dad is in his study watching a ball game. Don't tell your mother that, though. She thinks that he’s working."
"I won't, Linda." He gave her a conspiring wink then excused himself to go into the study located at the far end of the family room.
"Who's winning?" He asked Troy the question as soon as he walked in without knocking.
"The Yankees are up by one. But Martinez is up and the Mariners have the tying run on third." Troy Carlson was sitting in a padded leather wing chair with a can of soda and a cigar in his hands. He was dressed in old jeans, tennis shoes, and a salmon colored polo shirt not looking anything like a bank executive. The window behind him was open to let the smoke from his cigar outside. "The Mariners will be playing at home next Thursday night. What do you say to going?"
"Sounds like fun. Count me in." Troy reached inside the small drawer in the side table, pulled out a box of cigars, and removed one. He handed it to Ben who took it and sat down on the couch before he pinched off the end. "You know, you're not fooling mom with having the window open." He lit up and took his first puff.
"I know. But she doesn't say anything to me because I never say anything to her about her caramel macchiato addiction. It's part of marriage, overlooking a few small bad habits. You look terrible by the way. Have you talked to Anne lately?"
"I saw her Monday." Ben frowned and looked at the television screen.
"I don't mean professionally."
"What do you know about her being here? I never said anything to you or mom."
"Ben, it's obvious that you love her and that she loves you. You were both crazy about each other when you were kids. Some things just need time to ripen, that’s all, like yours and Anne’s relationship. It's also obvious that the two of you had a falling out at Lily's reception." Ben took another puff from the cigar then looked over at his stepfather.
"Did you know that she was interviewing with my company?"
"Sure I did. You talked about hiring her when you were looking through resumes. So what's the problem?" Troy looked at Ben closely. His examination began to make Ben squirm.
"You knew that Anne was Dr. Conner, and you never told me? Why?" Ben leaned forward and rested the lit cigar in the ashtray. A deep frown marred his face as he looked over at his stepfather.
"We thought you already knew." Troy Carlson set his can of soda down on the coffee table and his cigar in the ashtray then leaned back and looked at Ben in pity.
"Well I didn't, and when I found out I made a total ass of myself and accused her of only sleeping with me because she wanted the job."
Troy whistled and shook his head. "That would be a tough one to let go."
"Is it tough for her or for me?"
"For her. Ben, she wouldn't do that, and before you make more of a fool of yourself, you should know that she wasn't after you money either. Anne doesn't have to work if she doesn't want to."
"What do you mean?" It chafed a little because that thought had occurred to Ben the night of the wedding, too.
"She's Jay Conner’s granddaughter and Andrew Conner's daughter and only heir unless his new wife produces a child."
"Anne is Conner's daughter? No wonder she doesn't like him."
"Few people do. But if you need a good lawyer, he's your man." They sat for several minutes and watched the game while Ben digested what his stepfather told him. Eventually, Troy said, "Ben, do you want to marry Anne? Because your relationship would only be allowed if you married her."
"Yes, I want to marry her."
"Then why are you still here when you should be at Anne's?"
"She wasn't home when I called at her house this morning." Ben leaned forward on his knees and picked up the cigar from the ashtray. He took a puff then he ran his hands through his hair. Why was he here when he wanted to be with Anne? Suddenly, he heard the sound of his smart phone announcing that he received a text message. He pulled it from his back pocket and read the message that said "Urgent, see email!"
"Is it anything important?" Troy asked him when Ben put the cigar back in the ashtray and touched the email app to start looking through the new messages.
"It's Rudolph telling me to see an urgent email."
Ben finally found the one that his VP of Research and Development was referring to. It was an email from Dr. Conner to Rudolph and copied to Ben that she was giving her two-week notice. He swore when he read the message.
"What is it?"
"Anne's quitting. She gave her notice last night. I've got to go and see her." He stubbed out his cigar and stood up while pushing his phone back into the back pocket of his jeans.
"Go. Get out of here. I'll tell your mother that you were called away."
"Thanks."
After putting his shoes back on, he ran to his car and headed back out to Bellevue. He was so distracted by his thoughts that he missed his turn, doubled back, and eventually found the little blue Cape Cod style house again on the corner with the enclosed backyard and the detached garage. She was home now if her SUV was any indication. After parking in the driveway behind her vehicle, he jumped out, took the front two steps at once, and rang the doorbell. When Anne didn’t answer, he turned and sat on her front step. She could not be far. She was not quitting until he had a chance to talk to her and convince her to stay. He felt a sense of panic when he realized that if she left, he didn’t know where she would go, if she would move away, or if he would ever see her again. This may very well be his last chance, and he was not leaving until he saw her.
Chapter 20