by JoAnn Durgin
As Eliot began his prayer, Marta waved her hand at Caty like a wild woman before placing her hand over her husband’s. Angling her head toward Caleb, Marta winked.
What on earth did that mean? Caty was beginning to wish this day would end so she could get back to some semblance of reality.
“…and we thank you for the opportunity to catch up with Caleb and to spend time with Caty,” Eliot prayed. “We ask your blessing on their lives as they both begin their work here in Houston. I’d ask that this move be positive for Caty, and that her boss might see that having free time is important to maintaining loyalty to the corporation. If her boss is not a Christian, we pray he might come to know the saving grace of Jesus Christ. Now, Father, we thank you for our food and ask that you bless the hands that have prepared it. We ask all these things in the name of your Son, Jesus. Amen.”
“Amen,” Caty and Caleb murmured at the same time. Withdrawing her hand from Caleb’s, she noted Marta’s curious expression. Giving her a reassuring nod, Caty added a bright smile for good measure.
After small talk over their salads, Caty was grateful to discover pecan-crusted chicken when her dinner plate was set on the table. Beside her, Caleb’s steak sizzled on his plate, medium rare from the looks of it. More power to him.
“You go for blood, I see.” She glanced across the table, thankful to see Marta and Eliot once again engrossed in their own conversation.
“Sometimes I do. On rare occasions.” When she groaned at his pun, Caleb chuckled. She shouldn’t make him laugh. Those tiny little lines surfaced around his eyes and mouth that only made him more attractive. She needed to avoid that cleft in his chin at all costs.
“You lied to me about what I ordered, and you’re corny about your seriously undercooked meat. You obviously can’t be trusted.”
Caleb gripped his chest. “Ah, now you wound me. You have such little faith? In my defense, I flagged down the server when she refilled your water glass and asked her to switch out liver for chicken.” He crisscrossed his index fingers. “Liver for chicken. I figured chicken should be safe.”
“Again, your powers of observation have served you well, but how can I be certain that’s what really happened?”
Caleb leaned close, his lips warming her skin. “The evidence is right in front of you. If you require further proof, I’ll ask for the menu again.”
“That’s not necessary.” Caty focused on her food for the next few minutes. She joined in the conversation occasionally and sensed Caleb’s gaze on her more than once. He didn’t challenge her, didn’t mock, didn’t tease. Then he asked her about her job and listened as evidenced by some of his insightful questions. He appeared genuinely interested in hearing more about her work—imagine that—and she gave him the same basic facts about her job that she’d tell anyone without revealing anything she shouldn’t.
Was it possible he honestly didn’t know what she did on a daily basis? Why was the man so private? That was the question Caty would love to ask him.
“To sum up, accounting’s pretty boring as a general rule,” she said. “Call me weird, but I love it.”
“From what I can tell, you’re not boring. Or weird. In fact, I find you fascinating.” Caleb didn’t look at her but focused on cutting another generous bite of his steak.
“Note I didn’t say I was boring,” she stipulated. “For example, today was a prime example where I couldn’t seem to make it to my afternoon meeting without a few mishaps. Keeps life interesting, anyway.”
“I’m sure.” Caleb’s lips twitched as he finished his bite of steak. “Are you glad to be back in Houston?” She gave him a look that implied you’re not supposed to know that since I didn’t say anything other than I have family here.
Ducking his head, Caleb stabbed a baby carrot and plopped it in his mouth. Caty prayed her friends hadn’t picked up on anything amiss. Who was she kidding? In spite of his Hollywood comment, she and Caleb were horrible at playacting.
“I’m thrilled to be back,” she said. “The work experience in Lubbock was good, but I traveled quite a bit. I’m hoping I’ll be able to stay more rooted in Houston now.”
“Maybe you should have a chat with your boss about it. See if he’s agreeable.” With a grin, Caleb shrugged. “You never know.” A second carrot found its way into his mouth.
“I’ll have to do that.” Caty lifted her gaze to meet Caleb’s. “So, has your wife adapted well to the move to Houston?”
The pointy toe of Marta’s shoe connected with her right shin beneath the table. Not enough to hurt, but she might have a small bruise in the morning. Caty arched her brows and shot Marta a questioning what was that for? look. Just when she thought the day was going to end on a high note.
“She hasn’t.” Caleb’s smile had sobered. Oh, oh. Had she said something wrong?
“I beg your pardon?” Was the man separated or divorced? That would explain a few things and make her feel slightly less guilty about her attraction to the man, although not much.
Caleb wiped his mouth with his napkin and avoided looking at her directly. “Unfortunately, my wife died five years ago.”
Chapter 8
Caty planted her hands on either side of the marble sink in the ladies lounge. “You couldn’t have warned me the man’s wife died?”
“That’s what I was trying to tell you with the whole waving and winking routine. Well, not that she’d died, but that he wasn’t off-limits.” Marta finished washing her hands and dried them with a linen finger towel. “That didn’t come out right. I didn’t know it at first, so you have to cut me some slack. Seriously, Caty, how was I supposed to know? I’ve never met Caleb before. Eliot whispered it to me about the same time you two started flirting.”
“Flirting?” Caty’s nerves made her stomach churn.
“Short of passing you a note—which never works, by the way—I didn’t know what to do. I’ve got your back, girlfriend. Trust me, if Eliot hadn’t told me that Caleb was widowed, I would have hauled you in here a long time ago.”
“It’s not supposed to be this difficult. Why can’t a woman talk to a man without it being construed as flirting? Where do you draw the line between being friendly and flirting when your personalities seem to…click?” Caty tapped her fist on her forehead, thump thump thump. She let out a small groan. “Oh, Marta. I didn’t mean to flirt. I am such a bad person.”
Marta’s lips curled. “You are not a bad person, Caty. And why does that why can’t a woman spiel remind me of that song in My Fair Lady where Rex Harrison asks and sings, ‘Why can’t a woman be more like a man?’”
“Because you and my mother love musicals,” Caty muttered. “Focus, please.”
“In terms of the whole male-female thing, the dynamics can be tricky,” Marta said. “You’re both very attractive people. Educated. Witty. You obviously share common corporate interests since you both work in the oil industry. That’s a big draw right there.”
Marta had no idea how close to the truth she came with that statement.
“You were having fun,” Marta continued. “It’s okay to be attracted to someone. It’s what you do, or don’t do, with that attraction that matters. Look, it’s not like you slid your arms around him and tried to sit on his lap. You didn’t try to kiss him or offer him anything you shouldn’t. But the whole banter thing? That was some of the most for keeps serious flirting I’ve seen since New Mexico between Eliot and me. And would you look how that turned out?”
Caty frowned. “Not helping, my friend.”
“Hey, I call them as I see them,” Marta protested after Caty shot her a glare. “I was surprised to see he wore a wedding ring and was…responding to you, for lack of knowing how else to describe it. It’s probably what I mentioned earlier. The ring makes a statement, and it’s my guess Caleb wears the ring to discourage unwanted attention.”
“Maybe,” Caty murmured. She’d met men on business trips, especially in airports or in hotels, who didn’t wear a ring because they w
anted female attention. Either way, she needed to steer clear of this particular man.
“Caty, think about what a conversation starter it would have been if Caleb had announced right off the bat, ‘By the way, my wife died, so it’s okay to flirt.’”
“It might have spared me some guilt, but you’re right,” Caty said. A wealthy, handsome man? Women would flock around Caleb, especially if he wore his helpful cowboy persona. What woman in her right mind could resist that? Huh. That thought didn’t help.
Marta glanced at her mirrored reflection. “Now that we’re here, I might as well refresh my lipstick.” She pulled a slim gold tube from her small handbag.
“You never cared much about makeup before.”
Marta stopped applying her lipstick and their gazes met in the mirror. “Don’t change the subject, but is that a problem?”
“Only an observation. I imagine you’ve changed a number of things since taking the television job. You have an image to uphold for the station now.” Caty shook her head. “You know what I mean. I’m not in my right mind tonight. I’m…flummoxed.”
“Well, that’s quite a word. Not one you hear every day.” Marta smiled. “As far as makeup, I wear as little as possible. Only one coat of mascara and light foundation. And I haven’t changed the way I dress when I’m not on-air. This girl still wears her sweatpants and T-shirts to the market. Still dresses nice to go to church.”
Marta dropped the lipstick back in her purse. “I’ll tell you a secret. The red lipstick has nothing to do with my image or the television station. It has everything to do with wanting to please my husband. Eliot loves to see me wear it. He thinks it’s exotic and sexy.”
Thankfully Marta had lowered her voice since others had come into the lounge. Rubbing her lips together, she smiled at her reflection and then slicked her tongue over her teeth.
“Okay, you told me a secret,” Caty said. “Now it’s time to tell you one of mine.”
Marta turned to her, eyes wide. “I didn’t know the Lewis family had secrets. I can hardly wait.”
“Caleb is the helpful cowboy.” Caty blew out a breath. “He’s also my boss. As in the head of the corporation. As in he owns it.”
“Whoa!” With a wide grin, Marta shook her head. “Wait a minute. So all that stuff you said about your boss working you too hard and not giving you time off—that whole spiel was teasing?” She laughed. “Oh, you were good, my friend. And Caleb dished it right back. Even better. It was very entertaining, I have to say.”
“Of course, I’m sad that Caleb lost his wife.” Caty kept her voice purposely low. “On the other hand, I’m glad he’s not married. Because of the flirting. Not flirting! You know what I mean.”
“Caleb and Caty. That has a very nice ring to it. Like the names just go together.”
“Stop that,” Caty snapped. “And stop saying the word ring. Are you forgetting the important fact that he’s my boss which means this attraction can’t go anywhere? End of story. Finished.”
Marta waved her hand. “That’s an old-fashioned concept if ever I’ve heard one, especially if he’s the boss and sets the rules for the corporation. Do you know if he’s a Christian?”
“I feel safe in saying he is although I don’t know for sure. He founded his corporation on Christian principles, and I’ve only known the man to be fair in his corporate dealings.”
“Eliot might know although he wasn’t a Christian when he was at Princeton.”
When another woman approached, Marta guided Caty to a loveseat in the more private sitting area. “Let’s talk over here.”
“We shouldn’t be too long, though. The men will think we’re never coming back out again,” Caty said. “Or that we’re having digestive issues.”
Marta smiled. “Men know what women do in the ladies room. I feel safe in saying that Eliot and Caleb are probably having a similar discussion of their own right about now.”
“It must be nice to be married and know all the inner sanctum secrets of how a man’s mind works.”
“Inner sanctum. You really are too cute.”
Caty frowned. “That’s just it, Marta. I don’t want to be cute. Or adorable. I want to be putting on red lipstick for my husband because he thinks it’s sexy on me. Because he thinks I’m sexy. Are single, Christian women not supposed to think about that?” She blew out a sigh. “Sexy is not a fruit of the Spirit, after all.”
Marta’s gentle smile helped to calm her unsettled emotions. “For now, focus on those qualities that make you special the way you are in God’s eyes. Let me see if I can explain it. Being sexy to a Christian man like Eliot or Caleb is different than with most guys. To the rest of the world, it’s about wearing provocative clothing and showing off your body. Flaunting yourself before a man. Not that Christian men don’t struggle with their thought life. That’s how God made them, and men are visual creatures. But with a Christian man, it’s about much more than that. It’s about a woman being intelligent, funny, and how she has confidence in herself. As Christian women, we have a joy and an inner peace that radiates from the inside out. Men respond to that.”
“I guess I never thought about it like that,” Caty said. “In a roundabout way, are you saying that faith is sexy?”
Marta patted her arm. “All in good time. Guaranteed, the right man for you will find everything about you sexy, but for now, forget about being sexy and be yourself. Based on what I saw tonight, Caleb admires and likes you. As more than his employee. You didn’t see the looks he gave you when you were cutting chicken. When you were drinking water. Laughing. When you were blinking, eating, pretty much everything you did. You could have spit a gross, half-chewed piece of food on him, and the man would have been totally enthralled.”
“After the inauspicious way we met, I’m almost surprised I didn’t.”
“He’s probably trying to figure out what he’s feeling.” Marta shrugged. “You know how guys are too logical for their own good sometimes. An intelligent man like Caleb, especially since he’s loved and lost, is either more inclined to embrace another relationship when the time is right or else he’s afraid to take the risk of getting hurt again.” She patted her arm. “For your sake, I hope it’s the first of those two options.”
“I know Caleb has taken certain risks in his business, but he studies and makes wise decisions based on the facts,” Caty said. “Not that I’m saying I want him to take the risk with me.”
A frown briefly crossed Marta’s face before it disappeared. “Try not to overthink it, Caty. I’m thinking Caleb being here tonight is a God thing. For now, be your charming self and enjoy the evening.”
“How do you figure it’s a God thing?”
“Think about it. Of all the guys in the world who could have called Eliot today and walked into this restaurant tonight, the man happens to be your boss. Who, as it turns out, happens to be single, and seems to be somewhere near your age, maybe a little older. You might as well give up denying you’re both attracted to each other.”
Caty remained silent.
Marta tucked her blonde curls behind one ear. “I know you probably don’t want to hear this, but it’s true that if a relationship is meant to develop between the two of you, it will happen. In God’s timing. That’s the best advice I can give you.”
A vision of the statue in the Belac lobby came to mind. “Helena,” Caty whispered.
“Who’s Helena?” Marta whispered back.
“There’s a statue of a woman in the Belac main lobby. She looks like a Greek goddess, and it says Helena, my valiant warrior with A.C. Reid’s name and 2002 beneath it.” Slapping her hands on her knees, Caty rose to her feet. “That settles it. I can’t deal with a man who’s still grieving his beloved, valiant wife who died tragically young.”
“Why? Because he had a statue made in her honor?” Marta stood beside her. “That’s actually very sweet when you think about it. You don’t know what happened other than the fact that she died five years ago. I know nothing about
his marriage, but a man widowed for five years has had time to grieve. You’ve got a lot of love to give the right man, Caty. How do you know it’s not Caleb Reid? Men are attracted to you, but you haven’t taken the time to be caught…yet. That’s the distinction here. Maybe Caleb’s been waiting for a woman like you to come along. And maybe—just maybe—you’ll hear God’s whisper if you stop long enough to listen.”
Caty laughed. “Now you sound like Mom.”
“Knowing your relationship with your mom, I know that’s not a bad thing.”
“It’s a very good thing,” Caty said. “However, I’m not planning on telling Mom about Caleb Reid unless…” How to finish that sentence?
“Until something develops between you and Caleb.”
“If something develops.”
Marta nudged her arm. “My weather predictions have been more than ninety-four percent accurate so far. Between you and Caleb? Oh yes, my friend. It’s definitely in the forecast.”
Chapter 9
Caleb had enjoyed Caty’s company more than he expected. Or wanted. From what he could tell, she’d been genuinely surprised when he’d walked into the room. He didn’t believe in coincidence, but neither was he altogether sold on the idea of a “God thing,” as his live-in housekeeper, Lettie, termed such unexpected occurrences.
At first, he’d been glad Eliot and Marta had been there to facilitate the conversation. Turned out, talking with Caty hadn’t been a chore but a lot of fun. It’d been far too long since he’d shared dinner in the company of a woman who made him laugh.
His motivation in calling Eliot had been to gauge whether he might be a potential ally for a personal matter involving his daughter. He’d heard through the strong Princeton pipeline of alumni that Eliot’s background and training were outstanding and above reproach—a man of uncommon intelligence with demonstrated loyalty, physical strength, a natural leader.
Lauren’s well-being was the most important thing in the world. His daughter’s safety trumped someone pilfering money from his corporation. Or his growing attraction to Catherine Lewis.