She ended the call and stepped onto the elevator in her apartment building, having loitered in the lobby for fear of dropping the call. Lena replayed their brief conversation in her mind, comparing it to the one they’d held over lunch on Thursday, and she now felt even more intrigued by Owen Langford.
Someone who looked like that should’ve been brimming with confidence when it came to women. He should’ve been cocky and arrogant, completely certain that he could have any woman he wanted. There was more than a hint of charm in his words and demeanor, but the overlarge ego Lena would have expected was completely absent. She realized now that he’d actually been awkward when speaking to her, as though he had no idea how to talk to girls. The inconsistency baffled her, and she found herself eager to learn more about him.
When Lena thought about him, there was a strange fluttering in her chest that she couldn’t quite identify. Excitement? Hope? It was nebulous yet undeniable. Owen Langford was affecting her more than any man had ever done, and although Lena knew she might end up regretting it, she couldn’t help but wonder if she might be having the same effect on him. Could he be feeling the same mixture of giddiness and anxiety? Was it possible that they were mirror images of one another at that very moment? Lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, and fantasizing about what might happen next?
Chapter 10
Sunday
Lena sighed as she made her way up the steps to her father’s front door. Sunday dinners had become a ritual of theirs since she’d moved out the previous year, and she regarded them with a mixture of dread and acceptance. She typically enjoyed her father’s company, but she nearly always left feeling more stressed out than when she’d arrived. Nate had a way of turning a compliment into a mandate, and sometimes Lena wasn’t sure whether it was intentional or if the overwhelming pressure to succeed was mostly of her own making.
She let herself in without knocking and waved hello to the housekeeper, who was setting the dining room table. She found her father in his study, dressed somewhat casually in a polo shirt and slacks. His feet were propped on the corner of his desk while he reclined in his executive chair, and his face was obscured by the Sunday edition of the Seattle Times. Lena watched him silently for a moment, his relaxed posture reminding her of a less complicated time in her life, when the only thing she’d had to do to make him happy was to put a smile on her face.
“Hey, Dad.”
“There’s my girl,” Nate greeted her warmly, setting his newspaper aside as he rose to his feet. She crossed the room and hugged him, closing her eyes briefly before he released her. “How was your first week back to school?”
“It was good. I got into that business lecture class that always invites you to speak.”
“Well, that’s at least one friendly face in the audience. Thought they were going to boo me off the stage a couple years ago,” he joked. Lena rolled her eyes, knowing that such a thing had never happened, but she played along as they left the study and sat down at the dining room table.
“I wouldn’t count your eggs just yet, Dad. I heard someone say they’d rather hear John McAllister speak instead of you.”
“Hah! Like UDub could afford him. The Dean would have to buy a few million in Boeing stocks before John would even consider taking his phone call.”
Lena chuckled along with him and began filling her plate from the various dishes the housekeeper had placed on the table. Her stomach growled appreciatively at the sight of her favorite sweet potato casserole. There was little to no nutritional value in it, but Lena didn’t care. It would always be her favorite.
“She spoils you with that, you know,” Nate said teasingly, pointing to the casserole dish.
“What’s wrong? Millie doesn’t make you your favorite foods anymore?” Lena grinned.
“Not since the doctor put me on that damned low cholesterol diet. She only brings out the good stuff when you’re here. Feel like moving back home?”
Lena laughed out loud and shook her head. Amelia Stuart, or Millie, as Lena affectionately called her, had been their housekeeper since before they’d moved to Mercer Island. Lena had been ten years old and doing her best to cope with her father’s sudden extended absences due to the newly founded Gardner Components. Millie was only a few years older than Nate, but she had taken a maternal role almost from the beginning. She’d always treated Lena as she might treat a beloved grandchild, and her presence had soothed the ache of loneliness on more than one occasion. It hadn’t been the same as having Nate around, but Lena had appreciated her nevertheless.
“So, aside from the lecture class, what else is on your schedule this semester?” Nate inquired.
“Business Finance, Managerial Accounting, English Composition, and Biology,” she recited before taking a sip of her iced tea.
“That’s only fifteen hours.”
“Well, Biology has a separate lab once a week, so it’s actually sixteen.”
“They wouldn’t let you take another class so you’d have a full eighteen?” Nate frowned. “And what’s with the English and biology? I know they’re general requirements, but I’m sure you could’ve easily tested out of those.” Lena's mouth tightened infinitesimally, and she quelled the defensive response that came to mind.
“I probably could have, but the classes sounded interesting.”
“Hmpf. Well, next semester, let’s sit down and go over your course planning, alright? If I need to talk to the Dean about letting you take more than the full eighteen hours, I’m more than willing to do so.”
“Sure,” Lena replied, her eyes glued to her plate as though she expected it to suddenly sprout arms and juggle the remainder of her peas.
She would have liked to tell her father that her English Comp class held more interest for her than anything else on her schedule that semester, but she knew there was no point in bringing it up. Nate had made up his mind long ago that Lena was destined to follow in his very large footsteps and take over as head of GC once she’d earned her degree. The grooming process that had begun when she was sixteen had gradually become more intensive until eventually it had reached the point that she was spending nearly every school holiday and weekday afternoon at GC. Lena had rotated through the company’s primary departments, learning as much as she could from as many people as possible. Nate's employees were constantly singing her praises, lauding her as a quick learner with a head for business just like him. He assumed, as most parents would, that Lena excelled because she enjoyed the work, and he’d been so extraordinarily pleased by her success that Lena couldn’t bring herself to correct him.
Nate had never asked his daughter if running GC was something she actually wanted to do, and there had only been one occasion that Lena had dared to bring up the subject herself. That conversation had not ended well, and she’d decided that day to put her own desires aside. She wanted her father to be able to retire with some peace of mind, even if it meant sacrificing her own dreams in the process.
He’d worked hard his entire life, first for his country and then for her. He’d adopted her and raised her as his own, putting her first in every decision he made, whether large or small. Nate had given up his career as a pilot so that he could be there for Lena after her mother had died, and he’d gone back to school while working to make a better life for them both. He’d poured his heart and soul into GC, and Lena believed that he deserved to be able to retire knowing that his legacy would continue.
“Jeff asked about you the other day,” Nate told her, pulling her out of her own thoughts. “Wanted to know when you’d be working in his department again.” Lena nodded politely and kept her tone neutral.
“Probably not until after the new year.”
“That’s what I figured. Sounds like he wants you for most of the summer next year, and I know he wants you to start there after you graduate.”
“I’ll go where I’m needed, I guess,” Lena shrugged, not particularly interested in discussing Jeffrey Phelps or what he wanted from her.
Phelps had
been the head of his own company up until late 2008, when Phelps Manufacturing had merged with GC. It was a strategic move for both companies that had allowed GC to survive the recession intact. Phelps’ company would’ve folded entirely, so the merger had meant fewer layoffs for the employees. Since Phelps had brought better military contracts along with him, he had managed to secure twenty percent ownership in GC and the title of Chief Financial Officer as part of the deal.
Gardner Components was now a fifty billion-dollar company, thanks in part to the compromise Nate had made in regard to their military contracts. He had originally wanted to limit production to civilian or US military aircraft components, but the recession had forced him to expand and diversify. The company now sold to a short list of carefully vetted, allied countries as well, but Nate remained adamant that GC would not enter into a contract with any foreign entity that was not on the pre-approved list. His time in the Air Force had made him wary of doing business with countries that were politically unstable. He knew full well how quickly an ally status could change. His refusal to bend on this issue was the only real point of contention between Nate and his CFO. Phelps felt the potential financial gain to be worth the risk of selling components for weapons that might one day be turned against US troops.
Apart from that difference of opinion, Nate considered Phelps to be a trusted friend and business partner, and the two had grown close over the last three years. While Lena appreciated what Phelps did for Nate and for GC, she preferred to keep her distance. She’d been sixteen when Nate had introduced them, and she’d never been able to shake off the feeling that Jeffrey Phelps wasn’t quite what he appeared to be. On the surface, he seemed to be a wise and well-mannered gentleman, but every so often, Lena would catch a glimpse of something in his expression that made her feel uneasy. She’d never bothered to bring it to Nate's attention, knowing that Phelps had long since earned her father’s respect and loyalty. She’d seen Nate take his side in business disagreements countless times, even when several of his advisors took an opposing stance.
Lena left Nate's home shortly after they finished dinner that evening, and as she drove home, she found herself mentally reviewing her schedule for the following week. As usual, her anxiety level was several degrees higher than it had been when she’d arrived at her father’s just a few hours earlier. The delicious dinner Millie had cooked for them sat heavily in her stomach, and her joints ached with fatigue. The only thing that brought a smile to her face was the thought of her upcoming date with Owen, and it belatedly occurred to her that Nate had once again failed to inquire into her personal life. Not that she’d expected him to. On the rare occasion that he might ask whether or not she was seeing anyone, Lena always denied any romantic entanglements, and he’d eventually stopped asking at all.
She parked her car in the space reserved for her apartment and gave a half-hearted wave to the security guard in the lobby. Lena leaned heavily against the door of her apartment once she’d let herself in, wishing more than anything that Monday was more than a few hours away. If she’d had Saturday evening to do over, she would have accepted the ecstasy Mateo had offered.
Responsibilities be damned, she thought petulantly. But even as the words were framed in her mind, she knew it was little more than a bluff. There was nothing to stop her from knocking on Tessa and Mateo’s door and trading a few twenties for a bag of his best marijuana… nothing except her father’s high expectations for her success. Lena knew that she could never risk letting Nate down like that, no matter how much she might long for the release. With a sigh, she flipped the deadbolt before retreating to her room, getting her things organized for the following morning and finally collapsing into bed.
Her dreams that night, like so many dreams before, were full of sad, green eyes.
The Following Tuesday
There was no pretense of covert staring during Tuesday’s lecture, nor did Owen stalk Lena to the student union and ambush her for lunch. This time, he let his eyes move freely and appreciatively over her body, and when class was over, they walked side-by-side and found another fairly secluded table for two. Lena was noticeably bolder in her assessment of his physique as well, and they both realized that the strange magnetism between them had only grown stronger now that they had acknowledged it.
“So, what sort of company are you wanting to start after you graduate?” Lena asked, peeling her banana methodically.
“Honestly, I’m not entirely sure yet. I’m leaning toward communication technology, but I’m interested in agricultural development as well, so maybe both,” Owen replied, his eyes following the movements of her delicate fingers. The sunbeams that shone through the skylight overhead seemed to set fire to her glossy, red hair, which fell in waves around her shoulders. It made her seem ethereal somehow, and he was transfixed.
“Those are two very different fields,” she observed.
“True… And I probably won’t stop there. I’ve always wanted to run my own company, and I’ve always envisioned a lot of diversity in business and production.”
“Didn’t you ever want to be something typical when you grew up, like an astronaut or a firefighter?” Lena teased, grinning across the table at him.
“No. I always knew that I wanted to be someone in a position of power, someone ‘in charge.’”
“So, you’re a bit of a control freak?” Her eyebrows lifted challengingly as she took a slow bite of her banana. Owen swallowed convulsively as he watched her lips encircle the fruit, and he shifted in his chair, attempting to ease the sudden tightness of his jeans.
“I can be,” he admitted hoarsely. Lena's eyes sparkled at him, and he realized that she was completely aware of what she was doing to him.
“You should lighten up once in a while. You’ll be gray before you’re thirty.”
Owen’s reply was interrupted by the ringing of Lena's phone, and his eyes narrowed in confusion when she lit up with excitement. He recognized the familiar ringtone of the Skype app, but he was unable to see the name on the screen when Lena moved the phone in front of her face. Their little corner of the dining area was fairly quiet, so it was easy to hear the conversation. To his dismay, the voice on the other end was deep and masculine.
“There’s my girl!” the voice announced once the video feed had connected.
What the fuck? Owen frowned, wishing he could see the man’s face or at least stamp his own initials on Lena's forehead.
“Hey! Are you alright? God, you look exhausted! Where are you?”
“One question at a time, Squeak,” Logan James laughed. “I’m alright. Haven’t slept in about eighteen hours, but I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to call. I was hoping you wouldn’t be in class.”
“No, you caught me on my lunch break,” Lena assured him, smiling as she held up her half-eaten banana.
“Ugh, hasn’t anyone managed to teach you that fruit and potato chips don’t qualify as ‘lunch?’”
“Many have tried.”
Including me, Owen muttered inwardly. Who the fuck is this guy?
“You been staying out of trouble?”
“You know me,” she replied as she rolled her eyes for his benefit.
“So, that’s a no?”
“So, where are you this time?” Lena asked. Neither Owen nor Logan failed to notice that she’d dodged the question, but Logan decided to let it go for the time being.
“On base in Kuwait, in between missions,” he said vaguely. Lena nodded, her smile wilting a little as she considered the unknown dangers her best friend faced on a regular basis. But her eyes lit up once again when he continued, “It looks like I might get to come home sometime before the holidays.”
“For good?!”
“It’s a possibility, but I’m not sure yet. My four years are up, but they’re giving me an option to extend to six if I want. I need to talk to my dad about it, I guess. And you, of course, though I’d rather do it in person,” Logan sighed. Lena frowned slightly in confusion, uncertain
as to why he would include her in such a big decision.
“Well, I’m sure you already know my opinion.”
“Yeah, I guess I do.” They shared a sad smile for a few moments before the image grew staticky. “Shit, I’m probably going to lose you, Squeak. I’ll call again as soon as I can, alright? Be good and stay out of trouble!”
“No promises,” Lena teased. “Stay safe!”
The connection failed, and Lena's shoulders slumped briefly in disappointment. She loved getting to hear Logan’s voice, but saying goodbye was always bittersweet. Lena looked up from her phone to see Owen gazing at her impassively.
“I’m sorry for the interruption. He’s overseas, and we usually just email. He hardly ever gets to call, so when he does, I make sure to take it no matter where I am,” she explained. His expression remained guarded, and she frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“Who was that?”
“His name is Logan. We’ve been friends since I was twelve… He’s my best friend,” she clarified, staring at her phone, which was displaying an image of herself and Logan on the day he’d graduated basic training. “He joined the Army and went right to Ranger School after basic. Since then he’s almost always been deployed somewhere. His missions aren’t the kind that allow for daily internet access, so we don’t get to hear from him often.”
“He sounds like a nice guy,” Owen allowed, forcing himself to relax.
He could tell that Lena's feelings toward her friend were platonic, but he’d heard the affection in the man’s voice and couldn’t help but wonder if Logan’s feelings toward her were equally innocent. Owen forced a smile and decided to let it go for the time being.
“So… ‘Squeak?’” he asked as they collected their things. The short break had passed, and they both needed to head toward their next class. Lena blushed a little at his use of the nickname.
“Short for Pipsqueak. When we met, I was four or five inches shorter and less than a hundred pounds. He was a good foot taller than me and easily twice my weight,” she explained, smiling fondly at the memory. She’d hated the nickname at first, but now it felt like a term of endearment.
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