A Trusting Heart

by Judith Mccoy Miller

  The short walk to the garage made her wish that she had chosen to wear the lined wool slacks that matched her suit jacket, instead of the skirt. Oh well, she thought, I don’t have time to change now, and Mr. Merickson would probably find slacks offensive even if they are part of an expensive suit.

  After throwing her briefcase and an overnight bag onto the back seat of the car, she started the engine and backed out of the garage. The clouds remained gray throughout the drive, but at least there was no precipitation. Her plan was to remain in Kansas City, shop for some spring clothes for Michelle if the meeting at Rutherford Insurance didn’t take too long, and then remain in the city overnight.

  “Claire! It’s good to see you,” John Merickson, the Chief Executive Officer of the Midwest division, greeted as she walked into the main conference room of the plush offices.

  Claire never ceased to be amazed at the opulent surroundings of the insurance company. The leather couches and chairs of varying shades of tan and brown seemed to beg visitors to sink into their lush comfort when entering the reception area; the solid mahogany desks of the duel receptionists were polished to a mirror-like sheen; and the fresh flowers that were replaced on a daily basis were obviously flown in from Hawaii or some exotic island in the Caribbean.

  “Good morning, Mr. Merickson,” Claire replied as the glass doors swung closed behind her.

  “Let me take your coat,” he offered, lifting it from her arm and carrying it out to one of the receptionists.

  She sat in her usual place, which was the chair to Mr. Merickson’s left. Sinking into the leather executive chair, one of twelve that surrounded the oak conference table, she began pulling files from her briefcase as the rest of the personnel drifted into the conference room.

  Claire no longer felt intimated or uncomfortable in the Rutherford conference room. She’d attended enough meetings that it was becoming second nature. There was one female executive who was a member of the board, Janice Richmond; the remainder were men. Mr. Merickson assigned seats to each person attending the meetings, and unless he asked someone to switch, everyone was expected to be in the same chair at subsequent meetings.

  Harvey Leonard had always sat across from Claire and to Mr. Merickson’s right—until today. Claire had just lifted her head to say good morning to Harvey, when the seat was filled by a man she’d never seen before. His dark hair was wavy and slightly graying at the temples, and he sported a neatly trimmed mustache, which also showed a hint of gray. He appeared to be tall, although she couldn’t tell for sure since he had already seated himself before she caught a glimpse of him. He was impeccably dressed in a black pin-striped suit, a gray shirt that appeared to be the exact color of his eyes, and a black and gray striped silk tie. He wore no jewelry except silver cuff links engraved with the initials HTA in each of the French cuffs of his long-sleeved shirt.

  He’s quite a contrast from Harvey Leonard, Claire thought as John Merickson called the meeting to order.

  “First of all, for any of those who haven’t yet been told, Hugh Anderson is the new director of our workers’ compensation division,” he said, smiling toward the man sitting to his right.

  “Claire, I know this comes as a surprise to you, but Harvey was promoted and is moving to our Connecticut offices. I hope you and Hugh will develop the same fine working relationship that existed between you and Harvey,” he said.

  Claire’s eyes locked with the gray set of eyes across the table. He grinned. Who, besides a movie star, has a name like Hugh? she thought, although the name somehow seemed to fit him. She returned his look, nodding in recognition.

  The meeting moved along at a snail’s pace, and Claire could feel herself beginning to fidget.

  “You in a hurry?” Mr. Merickson asked, observing her as she glanced at her watch.

  Embarrassed, Claire gave him a half-hearted smile. “A little concerned about the weather,” she lamely replied.

  “No need to be. It’s not going to snow. My left leg always bothers me when it snows, and it feels just fine today. Besides, I want you to join several of us for a strategy meeting this afternoon after lunch. Didn’t Dave mention it?”

  “No, but I’m sure it merely slipped his mind,” she answered, settling back in her chair. So much for shopping. Wait until I get my hands on Dave, she thought while returning Mr. Merickson’s warm smile.

  “Why don’t we go over to Houlihan’s for lunch?” Mr. Merickson suggested after adjourning the meeting shortly before noon. “Their onion soup with that stringy melted cheese on top sounds wonderful on a cold day like today.”

  “I hope you aren’t planning to walk. It’s too cold for that,” Hugh remarked.

  “Oh, I guess we could drive if you’re going to be a sissy about a little cool breeze,” Mr. Merickson replied, giving Claire a wink.

  “Why don’t you and Claire go ahead and get a table? I can finish up a few things here, and then I’ll join you. Besides, you can begin showing him the ropes if you get seated before I arrive,” Mr. Merickson added, looking toward Claire. “This is a bright lady. I’d steal her away from those lawyers if I thought I could get her to come here,” he continued, this time directing his remarks to Hugh.

  “I’ll get my coat,” Claire stated, embarrassed by the statement and hoping to escape before Mr. Merickson said anything further to Hugh.

  “Here, let me help you with that,” Hugh said, coming up behind her just as she’d begun to shove her arm into one of the coat sleeves.

  “Thanks,” she murmured while leaning down to pick up her purse. Removing her gloves from the soft brown leather briefcase, she walked beside Hugh toward the elevator, pulling on first one glove and then the other and watching as both receptionists carefully monitored her escort’s every step.

  Hugh’s car was parked in the executive section of the parking garage, his name painted in block-style print along the concrete wall in front of his vehicle.

  “This is it,” he said, pointing toward a sleek, black Cadillac sedan.

  “Big car,” Claire commented but then felt ridiculous for making such a remark.

  “For a single guy? Or am I reading into your thoughts?” he asked.

  “Big car for anybody,” she answered. “But now that you mention it, it is a big car for a single guy.”

  “I have my children with me part of the time and I need the extra space for them. And, when the weather doesn’t appear cooperative, I prefer this car to my smaller one,” he told her, nonchalantly.

  “So you have children?” Claire pursued.

  “Three. Two boys and a girl. Tim is a sophomore in college; Mike is a senior in high school; and Melissa is in ninth grade. They live in Colorado with their mother.”

  “Sounds like a nice family,” Claire replied.

  “We’re divorced,” he stated. “My wife and I, that is. My job required me to be gone from home frequently. She found someone else to take my place who didn’t have to travel,” he continued.

  Claire shifted in her seat. “The Plaza always looks a little dejected after the holidays. Don’t you think?” she asked.

  “Is the recitation about my personal life making you uncomfortable?” he asked as he adeptly parallel parked the lengthy vehicle a short distance from the entrance to Houlihan’s.

  “Nice job,” Claire commented under her breath.

  “Thanks,” he replied, letting her know he’d heard the remark. “Looks like we got here just early enough to beat the lunch crowd,” Hugh stated as they walked into the quaint Irish restaurant known for its excellent cuisine and atmosphere.

  “We’ll need a larger table,” Hugh told the waiter as he led them toward a small alcove with a bench seat facing the crowd. “Unfortunately, we’ll need something that will seat at least three people, although I’d much prefer this.”

  Upon hearing the remark, Claire leveled a disapproving stare in his direction, but he seemed undaunted. “I’ve always liked those alcove tables. Even though they face out into the crowd, s
omehow they seem intimate. Don’t you think?” he continued unabashedly, although the waiter seemed oblivious to his statements, and Claire was attempting to ignore him.

  “Did I embarrass you?” he asked as soon as the waiter had placed menus in front of them and walked away.

  “Yes. Quite frankly, I don’t describe seating in a restaurant as intimate—especially with someone I don’t even know. And I might point out that you don’t know that waiter, and you certainly don’t know me!”

  He gave her a hearty laugh that caused people at several tables to turn and stare in their direction. Claire glared across the top of her menu. “Do you enjoy being the center of attention, Mr. Anderson?”

  “I don’t particularly mind one way or the other,” he replied. “I don’t let what other people think intimidate my actions. If I want to laugh, I laugh. If I want to cry, I cry. It’s that simple, Miss Winslow—or may I call you Claire? I’d prefer that you call me Hugh, by the way,” he added. “Ah, there’s John,” he said rising from his chair and motioning to the older gentleman.

  “You two ordered yet?” John asked as he seated himself between the couple and immediately began discussing his concerns regarding the recent changes in the workers’ compensation statutes. “When we meet next week, I want you prepared to discuss all the ramifications of those new statutes the legislature pushed through last month. There was a roll call vote on all the enactments, and I want to see how every member of the House and Senate voted on those measures,” he told Claire, obviously upset over the changes.

  “Next week?” Claire asked, turning toward John Merickson.

  “Didn’t Dave tell you we’d need to have you here for the week? I’ve made reservations for you at Crown Center. Nothing like a week in the city to get rid of those winter doldrums, right?”

  “Right,” Claire replied with waning enthusiasm, wondering when the plans had been made and why Dave hadn’t discussed them with her.

  Each time Hugh attempted to turn the conversation away from business, John would quickly return to the topic, until Hugh eventually gave up. By the time they left the restaurant, Claire had listened to enough discussion of Rutherford Insurance Company to last several weeks and longed for peace and quiet. Instead, however, the three of them returned to the corporate offices to continue their conference.

  By four o’clock their afternoon session was grinding to a halt, and Claire was exhausted. Gone were her plans for an afternoon of shopping and spending the night. Now her only thoughts involved getting on the highway before the five o’clock traffic jam and making a quick return home.

  “It was a pleasure meeting you, Claire, and I was pleased when John said you’d be returning next week,” Hugh said, extending his hand.

  “Thanks,” Claire replied, already dreading the thought of being away from home for a full week. I can’t wait to get home and call Dave, she thought while following the men out of the conference room.

  Hugh was standing at the conference room door holding her coat as she left the room. “I’ll walk you to your car,” he offered as she buttoned her coat and picked up her briefcase.

  “Don’t bother yourself. I can find my way,” she replied rather brusquely.

  “It’s no bother,” he answered. “Besides, we wouldn’t want John to think we’re not getting along, would we?” he whispered as he took her arm and led her to the elevator. Claire felt a shiver run down her spine. Hugh Anderson, she decided, was a poor replacement for Harvey Leonard.

  “What’s that old saying about a Ford?” Hugh asked as Claire unlocked the car door. “F-O-R-D, fix or repair daily. That’s it, isn’t it?” he asked, laughing at the old cliché.

  “Perhaps to some folks. To me it means afFORDable,” she rebutted and slid behind the wheel. “Good-bye, Mr. Anderson,” she stated as she turned the ignition and pulled out of the parking garage.

  I’ll take a Jake Lindsey over a Hugh Anderson any day, she thought, carefully maneuvering the car into the oncoming traffic. That guy gives me the creeps.

  ❧

  “Just wait until I get my hands on Dave,” Claire spouted as she walked into the office early the next morning. “Is he in there?” she asked Gloria, nodding toward his office.

  “Not yet. But guess what?”

  “I’ll tell you what. Dave is going to be on his own with the Rutherford account if he doesn’t start clueing me in on what’s going on. I don’t like being told I’m committed to a whole week in Kansas City when I don’t know anything about it. And this new guy that Merickson hired is really something. Talk about being full of yourself—this guy puts new meaning. . .”

  “Yeah, but guess what?” Gloria interrupted.

  “Oh, for goodness sake, Gloria, what?” Claire asked, exasperated that she couldn’t at least vent her frustrations without being interrupted.

  “Jake called.”

  “What?” Claire asked, suddenly sitting down at her desk.

  “Jake called. Yesterday while you were gone. He wanted to talk to you and said it was serious. He wouldn’t tell me what it was about, but he wanted to know when he could reach you. I told him you were going to stay over in Kansas City, and I thought you’d be back Friday. By the way, what are you doing here? Didn’t you say you were going to shop and spend the night?”

  “Yes, but the meeting lasted all day, so I decided to come home instead. What else did he say?”

  “Nothing, honest. I tried to get him to talk to me, but he just said to tell you he had called and that he’d call again when he got a chance.”

  “But he said it was serious?”

  “Yeah, and he didn’t joke around or anything. Didn’t ask about Roger or the guys at the company. Just you and Michelle. He wanted to know if you were okay and how Michelle was doing.”

  “He didn’t sound like he’d been drinking, did he?” Claire asked.

  “No, he just sounded kind of sad. Maybe depressed or something—not like the old Jake.”

  “Good morning, ladies,” Dave called out as he entered the reception office and began stomping snow from his shoes. “How’s everyone today? How was your trip to Kansas City, Claire? I thought Gloria said you weren’t coming back until Friday. Couldn’t stand to be away from us, huh?” he joked, the collar of his tweed overcoat turned up around his neck.

  “There were a few things that mystified me, and I thought maybe we needed to have a heart-to-heart discussion. That kind of talk is better in person, don’t you think?” Claire asked, watching his face for any reaction.

  He turned, hung his coat on a hanger, and then carefully placed it in the closet. Claire’s eyes remained riveted on him. “You have to understand, Claire,” he began as he rotated toward her. “Mr. Merickson wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. He wants you there for a week. . .”

  “Why didn’t you at least tell me before I left?” she asked. “Didn’t you think he’d mention it? When were you going to tell me, Dave—the day before?” she asked accusingly.

  “I knew you’d object to a week, but I’d already agreed to it. I thought maybe Lyle could persuade you. I didn’t get to talk to him until a couple of nights ago, and he said it was my obligation to tell you since I’d struck the agreement. Some partner,” he said, giving her an unpersuasive smile. “He doesn’t want to do my dirty work.”

  “How about your taking a week and going to Kansas City, Dave? How inviting does that sound to you?”

  “I don’t like being away from my family,” Dave replied.

  “Well, neither do I,” Claire countered.

  “I’ll go,” Gloria interrupted. They both turned and simultaneously glared at her. “Just a suggestion,” she jokingly added and then quickly went back to work.

  “Let’s discuss this in my office,” Dave requested, walking toward the door.

  “Where we discuss it won’t change how I feel,” Claire replied as she followed him and closed the door. Settling herself into one the of chairs opposite Dave’s desk, she rubbed her finger along the
upholstery tacks running the length of the chair arm and then looked up to meet his eyes. “Dave, I know you love your family and want to stay home, but this is your business, not mine. I don’t like being out of town all the time, either. I realize that Michelle isn’t living at home, but what if something happens while I’m out of town? I’m frightened I won’t be able to be there for her if she needs me. At least you have Peg at home with the children when you’re gone. I’m supposed to be teaching a Bible study class once at week at the church, but I’ve had to call on a substitute for three of the last five weeks. My commitments are important to me, and I’m just not willing to be gone running the Rutherford account,” she stated as boldly as possible with the looming realization that losing her job would cause her personal financial disaster.

  “You know, Claire, I’d like to tell you that I really don’t care what you do or don’t like. That I’m the boss and if I want you to go to Kansas City, you will go to Kansas City or you will find another job. But we both know that won’t happen. You’re a valuable employee, and deep inside, I know I’ve been taking advantage of you. The only reason I didn’t talk to you about the week in Kansas City was that I knew you wouldn’t want to go, and I felt guilty because I’d already made the commitment to Merickson,” he told her.

  “I appreciate your honesty, Dave. It’s hard to argue with the truth. And I know that there are lots of bosses out there that would tell me to hit the road. Subconsciously, I suppose I was counting on your Christianity to save me from the unemployment line.”

  “I’m afraid I haven’t been exhibiting my Christianity very well where you’re concerned,” he said, with a hint of embarrassment in his voice. “I guess the first step in solving this problem would be for you, Lyle, and me to discuss the matter in depth. Then we can decide whether we should keep the Rutherford account and, if so, how we’re going to do it. Why don’t we try and get together when Lyle comes back from the courthouse, say around eleven o’clock,” he requested.

  Claire nodded and rose from the chair. “Thanks, Dave,” she said, and thank you, Lord, she silently prayed as she walked out of the room.