Absolute Zero

by Anlyn Hansell

  The door bell sounded and he walked unwillingly toward the front hallway.

  Never, in all the time he had ever been in America, was he so reluctant to leave.

  It had everything to do with Ms. Anne Bennett.

  *****

  “You are so miserably late, ya bawbag,” Lena stated when he appeared in her kitchen hours later. “Oh! And dressed so nicely, too!” She gave him what she hoped was a withering look. He was dressed in faded jeans and a t-shirt. A ball cap was situated on his head.

  “I came straight from the airport,” he stated before wandering over and planting a quick kiss to the top of her head. “The place looks great, good turnout. I think every person in this town is here.”

  “Aye, well I already have two weddings to book and the Provost has asked if he can hold his council meetings here once a month, what do you think of that?” she asked with pride evident in her tone.

  He swept his eyes over the expanse of the remodeled kitchen, approving of everything he saw before his gaze settled on a tray of extremely small, extremely burnt looking puffs of…something sitting on top of the stove.

  “What the hell, Lena? This must have been you,” he quipped as he walked over and attempted to pull one off the pan. It was stuck firm.

  “Well, I bought them, I wanted to use them. Imagine my surprise when a catering company just up and shows at my door this morning. Complete with a full bar. I don’t suppose you know anything about that?” She placed her hands on her stylishly clad hips and tilted her head.

  “You are the worst cook in history, love. I thought I’d help you out. Mrs.Craigh says this caterer is the best. The object is to drum up business, not scare people away, right?” He gave up trying to pull the small object from the pan. “Ya can’t serve ‘em briquettes.”

  “Right, but I owe you so much already. This had to cost a fortune…”

  “Pish. You owe me nothing.” He answered quickly.

  “Wrong. I intend to pay you back, Ian.”

  “I won’t take it. It’s my money to give. I don’t want it back. I’m not an investor, Lena. Case closed. No more discussion.” The look he gave her would shut anyone else up. Well, anyone that worked for him, maybe.

  “But…”

  “No more. I’ve just flown for eight hours, I got absolutely no sleep last night and I don’t feel like arguing with yer stubborn arse right now.”

  She opened her mouth, thought better of it from the look on his face and clamped it shut.

  They stared at each other for a few moments before she finally huffed out a frustrated breath.

  “Fine. So why are you so late? I thought your flight was early?”

  “I got a bit…detained,” he answered as his mind wandered to the reason for his tardiness.

  He schooled his features into a bland look.

  “Detained? That doesn’t sound like you. And what is the reason?” she asked, shooting a pointed look his way.

  “Just…never you mind. Why don’t you go check on your guests? I need to use your loo. I’ll shower and change into something more appropriate, eh?”

  “Does this have anything to do with your American Girl?” she asked slyly.

  “First off, she not a ‘girl’. Second, it’s none of yer concern.”

  “Oooo. Well then, that told me. Did you see her?” she prodded.

  “Of course I saw her. She works for me. How could I not see her? Geez, Lena,” he stated before he blew out a breath. “I don’t ask you about your…whatever.”

  “My ‘whatever’ is non-existent. It would be a verra short conversation,” she stated in an amused tone.

  “Lena?”

  A distinguished looking older gentlemen stood at the entryway to the kitchen causing both sets of eyes to snap to him.

  “I’m going to go. I just…wanted to thank you for the invitation,” he stated. His face was almost sad in nature.

  “Right. I’m sorry she didn’t show, Aidan,” Lena’s voice was quiet as she walked toward him.

  He shrugged. “Well, it was worth a try,” he stated in an equally soft voice.

  “Oh! Aidan, this is my brother, Ian.” Lena indicated with a nod of her head.

  The man’s ice blue gaze swept over to the casually clad man leaning against the counter.

  For some reason, he seemed to straighten, Ian thought as he watched him. He pushed from the counter and immediately walked over to accept the outstretched hand. The man’s grasp was firm, his expression was somewhat strange, perhaps assessing, or at least it seemed that way to Ian.

  “Aidan is, um…well,” Lena looked from one to the other, her speech suddenly stilted.

  “So, you’re leaving. I’ll…ah…call you, right? If…ya know…” she stammered out instead.

  “Right,” he seemed to take the hint as his eyes settled on hers and he backed away.

  “Nice to meet you, Ian,” he stated.

  “Same here,” he replied as the man turned and walked from the room. Ian continued to stare after him.

  “Who’s that?” he asked as a confused look settled on his face.

  “Well…you see…” she started but didn’t finish causing his gaze to snap to her.

  “What?”

  “He’s…ummm…”

  “What!?” he huffed out.

  “He’s looking for Mum,” she answered quickly.

  “Oh, lovely. What is he? A constable? Tax collector? Oh wait, no. You’d actually have to have an income to have a tax collector chasing yer arse,” he stated smugly.

  “No! Oh shut it, Ian. He…He’s…I think he likes her,” she finally managed to spit out.

  “Pfft.”

  “No, really! He came here looking for her this week.” She was ringing her small hands, he noticed.

  “Where’d they meet?” he asked cautiously.

  “Rehab,” she uttered in the softest voice.

  “Perfect! You invited him into your home, your business? Are you crazy Lena? What’s his poison? Cocaine? He looked a bit fidgety. Maybe he brought enough to share…” he seemed to feign contemplation which only further ignited her anger.

  “He’s a good man! He owns a Machine Shop in town. He even helped me fix the fan in my loo…”

  “Let’s nominate him for sainthood,” he cut her off with a condescending glare.

  “Stop it! He says he’s clean now, and I believe him. He…I really think he likes Mum. He wouldn’t be looking for her otherwise, don’t you think?”

  “Maybe she owes him money.”

  “Maybe yer a sodalan, ya pompous arse,” she spewed before trying to collect herself.

  “And maybe yer a just a sook. Some strange man shows up and suddenly yer picking out the china. Don’t by a twally, Lena.”

  “Mum?” A male voice could be heard outside the door as they stared at each other.

  “Uncle Ian! You’re here! Why are you so late? You’re never late…” Braden stated as he wandered in to the kitchen. He was almost as tall as Ian but infinitely more skinny. “Hey Mum, some lady is looking for you,” he stated but his eyes were fastened on Ian.

  “Who?” she asked, glad for the interruption.

  “Hell if I know…”

  “Language! Och, what is with you?” she gasped out. “I’m going. Maybe yer Uncle’ll tell you why he was so late? Eh?” She gave a hard punch to Ian’s arm as she walked past him. He immediately grabbed it and rubbed. If glares could burn holes, her head would combust as he stared after her.

  “So why were you late?” he heard before his eyes gave a slight roll then settled on his nephew.

  “Shut yer gob,” he ruffled Braden’s hair, ignoring the question and walking past him. He grabbed the small bag beside the door and proceeded to wander down the back hallway toward Lena’s private residence situated at the back of the Inn.

  For the first time in his adult life, he actually didn’t want to shower.

  Showering meant washing away Anne’s sweet scent from his body.

&
nbsp; He gave his head a small shake as he dropped the bag on the tiled floor.

  He was a damn fool.

  Again.

  *****

  Anne’s eyes swept the Boardroom Monday morning, assessing the expressions on the faces seated around the large table. Relaxed, congenial, some joyful and yet her eyes kept wandering to the door, almost expecting a repeat of last Monday morning…

  “So, I have some good news,” Rand stated causing all eyes to focus on him.

  He sat back in his chair and swept his gaze around the table before his eyes caught and held Anne’s.

  “We’ve been given the funding for equipment,” he started before a few shouts of approval could be heard coming from the group. “Well, some of it,” he added quickly.

  The fluttering in her stomach intensified. Hopefully her expression was…no, she could almost feel the heat creeping to her cheeks. Damn. Stop looking at me, she silently willed Rand. As if on cue, his gaze wandered elsewhere.

  “We’ve been given the twenty-four grand for replacement. We did not get the extra eighty-three grand for your project, but we’ll see about that. I’ll meet with you after this, Anne.” Suddenly his eyes were back on her. She gave a quick nod before her own gaze fastened on her laptop screen.

  That was awful thoughtful of him. She should probably return one of the three texts Ian had sent her over the remainder of the weekend. The last one was a doozy. She had all but promised to answer her phone and return texts and she had not kept her word. Once he was gone, she was much more apt to berate herself and much less inclined to encourage him.

  What she did was pure foolishness. She let her body dictate her actions and completely left her brain out of it. For such a seemingly intelligent person, she was a complete idiot. At least in her mind…

  His last text arrived right before she sat down for dinner the night before. Something to the tune of threatening her with a visit if she didn’t get off her ass and at least acknowledge she was still alive. Something like that.

  He was probably fuming.

  Good. She was about half-fuming too. Apparently the sex was only worth twenty-four grand…Don’t think like that, she admonished herself.

  She certainly hoped the weekend did not prompt his change of heart about the funding. If it did, well, that certainly put whatever happened between them into a whole other category.

  One she found immensely distasteful.

  *****

  “I’m sorry, Anne. But we’re not dead in the water, here. I can move some funding around,” Rand stated from behind his desk later that morning.

  “But…he said…he said he doesn’t want to go in that direction.” Anne stated, completely confused as to why they were even discussing this.

  “I know,” he breathed out, his eyes wandering from her to the large bank of windows on the side wall of the office.

  “Look, Anne, there’s some…things going on right now. I’m not really at liberty to say, but, I can’t help thinking your project would be a huge boost for this company,” he stated. “Ian’s right when he says we’re not innovative. I’m not a Scientist; I’m more of a…people person. He’s the one with the technical expertise but he…just…he’s backed away from this facility. We pretty much stay the course and I take all the blame for that. He put me in this position for a reason and I think I’ve done all right. I miss Ron, though. Jay’s good, don’t get me wrong, but Ron’s ideas were inventive, advanced – probably because of his background. I see that in you. I almost want to continue on with this project because I want to show Ian what we can do. If he could just get his head out of his ass, maybe he could see the possibilities,” Rand grated out before he settled his eyes on hers once again. “Sorry. He gets on my nerves. Can you tell?”

  “No. Not at all. You hide it so well,” she quipped with a small smile. He smiled back.

  “Well, at any rate, if we decide to go forward, it would be without his blessing. I don’t want to put you in that position. I don’t mind taking the heat for it, especially if it turns out to be successful, which I’m sure it would. It’s really up to you.” The fate of this facility is most likely in your hands, he thought as he regarded the small woman seated before him. He wouldn’t tell her that.

  “Let me think about it?” she asked. Her current decision making abilities were shitty at best considering what occurred this past weekend…

  “No problem. In the meantime, I’ll see what finagling I can do with current funding if your decision is a yes,” he replied. “Now, go help Jay order this equipment. Get it in here as fast as possible. I’m sick of getting my assed chewed out by your co-workers on a daily basis,” he stated in a gruff voice, although his face barely contained the grin that formed.

  “Yes sir,” she replied with a grin that matched his.

  *****

  Yes, I am alive.

  No. You do not need to come for a visit.

  And thank you for the funding.

  She set her cell down on the desk later that morning and almost immediately it buzzed, causing her eyes to widen as she stared at the small screen.

  Answer your phone.

  Her desk phone bleated softly causing her gaze to switch to the digital readout on the screen. An unknown extension popped up. Her hand reached out and plucked the receiver from the cradle. As if on cue, her stomach gave a flip and a flutter.

  “Hello?”

  “Hello, Anne,” his voice was like a warm caress to her ear.

  “Um, hi?”

  “How are you?” he asked in a soft voice.

  “Fine?” Her eyes looked up assessing the general vicinity for any coworkers.

  “Fine? How are you…feeling?”

  “Fine?” she answered quickly, her voice dropping as low as possible as her eyes continued to keep a lookout.

  “Still sore?” he asked in such a gentle voice, the fluttering in her stomach intensified even more.

  “I can’t talk about this right now,” she whispered. “Totally inappropriate,” she added as her cheeks infused with warmth.

  She could hear a soft laugh in her ear. “Well, if you’d text me back like you’re supposed to, we wouldn’t have this, would we?”

  Em appeared at the corner of her cubicle causing a jolt of apprehension to spike through her. “So, what can I do for you?” she asked into the receiver in a much louder voice.

  “Is someone there?”

  “Yes.” She answered as she watched Em point toward the other side of the office before disappearing.

  “Hmm. That’s unfortunate,” he started.

  “It’s a bad time,” she whispered. “In about two minutes this room will be packed. It’s Potluck Day,” she added.

  “Hey, Annie? If you want to turn me into a raging nutter, by all means, mention the words ‘Potluck Day’,” he practically growled into the phone.

  “What’s wrong with Potluck Day?” she answered innocently.

  “What’s right with it? It’s a colossal waste of time.”

  “Maybe you’re just a party pooper…” she whispered, her voice low and her tone almost…flirty. She cleared her throat hoping that would also knock some sense into her.

  “I have no idea what that is, but if it has anything to do with having common sense? Then yes. I am a party pooper,” he stated, causing her to giggle out loud. She immediately covered her mouth with her hand as her shoulders shook.

  “What? What’s so funny?”

  “N..nothing…it’s just…”

  “Are you making fun of my accent again?” he asked. He was absolutely correct.

  “N…no.”

  “Liar,” he stated in a stern tone before it softened. “Listen, I have a meeting in a few minutes. I wanted to tell you, I bought you something. It should probably be there tomorrow. DO NOT open it. I’ll call you tomorrow night, you can open it then.”

  “What is it?” she asked before she could stop herself. A small thrill shot through her for some unknown reason.

&nbs
p; “Oh right, Annie, like I’m going to tell you.”

  “Stop calling me Annie,” she whispered.

  “Start texting me back and I’ll think about it.”

  “We’ll see.”

  “We’ll see, she says,” he breathed out. “Annie? I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Ok. I’m just going to get in line for Potluck now…” she stated with a sly smile.

  His answer was a low rumbled growl before the phone clicked in her ear.

  *****

  If he wanted to drive her insane, he certainly did a fine job of it.

  Her concentration was pretty much shot all of Tuesday. For some unfathomable reason, she was more than eager to get home and see what was waiting for her. She actually walked out of the office with the rest of her coworkers for the first time since she had started, nodding politely and waving when waved to before settling her body in the driver’s seat.

  Sure enough, a small brown package sat innocently enough on her front porch, she noticed as she drove up and parked a few minutes later.

  She walked quickly, stooping to pick it up, turning it in her hands. It wasn’t very large and certainly wasn’t very heavy. The name of on the small white label meant nothing to her: APS International. She gave it a shake before eyeing it again.

  He’d better call SOON, she thought as she settled it against her hip and fished for her keys.

  She wouldn’t admit it to him, but the suspense was killing her.

  *****

  “What is it?”

  “Open it and find out,” he laughed gently.

  “Is it a low speed centrifuge?” she asked jokingly.

  “Hardly. Do you have clothes on?” he asked.

  “What?!”

  “Well, I was just wondering,” he stated innocently enough.

  “Why would you ask me that?”

  “Did you open your present?” he asked instead of answering.

  “No. Hold on.”

  He could hear rustling through the phone as he lay in bed. He purposely placed the phone a few inches from his ear on the pillow as he waited.

  “What the…?! I…What? IAN!” he could hear her yell. He bit his lip to try and contain the laugh that wanted so badly to burst forth.