Closed Doors

by Nancy Radke

  "Thanks."

  "You're welcome.” He straightened up, let his hand fall from her shoulder. “Had lunch?"

  "Oh, yes. Donna told me to take a break when she left."

  "How about lunch with me tomorrow?"

  His words came as a complete surprise to her. "Oh! Uh... well, thanks, but... uh... I don't think..."

  "Too new in the office to know your schedule?"

  She grabbed at the ready-made excuse. "Yes."

  "How about after work? We can discuss any problems you’re having. I know how hard it is when you’re first starting out."

  "I'm sorry, but... I really should say no." His expression fell and Ellen felt sorry for disappointing him. After all, he had been a big help and... and Jared was lunching with someone, so she might as well, too. It would help keep her from focusing her life solely on Jared.

  She smiled encouragingly. “Maybe next week. When I’m not under so much pressure.” Hopefully the company would still be intact.

  "Okay. Great." He grinned, nodding. "And if you need any more help, like setting up new accounts, call on me. I'm usually around."

  “I would appreciate it. I’m really, really new at this kind of thing,” she admitted, not wanting to lose the one person who could help her.

  “Never managed an office before?”

  “No. So I desperately need any pointers you can give me.”

  “No problem. Just page me. I’m number two on the intercom.”

  “Thanks. I will.” He collected his papers and left.

  Ellen got up and walked around the room. Larry clearly was attracted to her, although, as he left, his smile had been merely pleasant. She would make sure that they just discussed business when they lunched together. She would decide then if she wanted to have lunch with him any more, in case he asked her out again—which he might not. Like Donna, he probably thought she was involved with Jared.

  Well, wasn't she?

  Sitting back down, she propped her elbows on the desk and placed her hands over her face. It was time to examine her feelings. If she was not interested in Jared, she shouldn’t feel uncomfortable having a business lunch with Larry. After all, Jared was having lunch with Bunny, right now.

  That hurt. A sharp tinge of jealousy produced resentment. She could picture Bunny: tall, voluptuous, a cotton-topped blonde with four-inch heels and tight clothes, long fingernails polished to perfection. There was no way she could compete with the women Jared knew.

  She knew why she was feeling this way. She was much more emotionally involved with Jared than was good, especially if he had no interest in her. She was as jealous as if Jared had given her the right to be—and she didn’t have that. Not yet.

  While at the office Jared seemed even more aloof. Very much the boss. He still called her Ellen, but there was no kidding around and he definitely gave the orders. Larry's asking her out had simply polarized the problem. She would have to give things time, to learn how Jared felt.

  In the meantime, Larry's help had enabled her to do her job better. Now she knew what to do with the various bills. Put them under suppliers and pay them.

  Now to find Jared's appointment book before someone else called and wanted an appointment.

  The phone beat her to it. Another woman wanting to see Jared. This one named Vanessa. Did he have a girl for every letter of the alphabet?

  "I'm sorry. The computer's not working at the moment. Let me take your number and call you back as soon as I..."

  She had been frantically holding the cursor over the icons and found the calendar. "Wait. I think I've got it. When do you want to see him?"

  Vanessa sounded young, her voice bubbling with enthusiasm. "I need to see him, like... well, like, you know, before the big party. You know, at his house. I can't make the launching."

  "Um... you want to see him at his house, or is the party at his house?"

  "The party. It's less than two weeks away. I need to know what to wear then and afterwards, when we go out. Should I bring along a different outfit?"

  "I wouldn't know. Do you want Ja—, Mr. Steel to call you back?"

  "He owes me lunch. Does he have any free time, like... this week?"

  "Just a minute." The calendar had opened to today's date. It showed Jared's one-thirty lunch with Pat, who might be male or female. Ellen scrolled through the rest of the week. Jared had a luncheon date both Thursday and Friday... one with Sam—Samantha?—and one with Edda.

  "Not this week," she said.

  "Try next week."

  Ellen did. Donna's wedding, underlined and highlighted, was scheduled for Saturday afternoon. Jared was free both Wednesday and Thursday for lunch.

  "Vanessa? I've checked next week. Jared is fr—"

  "Right here." He had entered the room as she was talking. "I'll take the call. Switch her through to my office." He had a bright smile on his face; the lunches with Pat and Bunny must have been enjoyable.

  He did not close his door, so Ellen heard him answer. "Vanessa? What can I do for you?" He tapped a pencil on the desktop as he listened. "Um... not now, I'm busy. Can't be away just now; I've got a new office manager."

  He was using her as an excuse. Ellen did not know whether to be pleased or not.

  "How about some time next month?" He tapped more rapidly, then said, "What? Oh, that’s easy. Wear the blue dress. You'll look great; you always do."

  Now she was jealous of Vanessa. Ellen wanted to go to that party with him. At his house. But he had not even mentioned it. He did not want to be seen in public with her, she remembered bitterly. She knew the reason, but that did not make her feel any better.

  While she listened, Ellen scrolled backwards through the months. Jared had an appointment with a different person almost every day. Many of them were women. Quite a few lunches with Bunny. There were a lot of evening appointments, too. Dates.

  In the months before she started tutoring him, Jared had a date either Friday or Saturday night, often both. A different woman's name appeared almost every other week. Some had lasted for a month, none more than two months. It was a sobering awakening to Jared's lack of commitment.

  "Ellen?"

  "Yes?" She drug herself out of the chair and joined him in his office, resolved to guard her tender heart more carefully. She would set an imaginary watchdog in place, tell it to bark whenever she started to feel moonstruck. She had done it before and the big image never failed her.

  Jared smiled up at her with his beautiful gray eyes and the watchdog ran for cover. She was on her own.

  "How'd it go? You finding everything all right?"

  "Yes, thanks. I had a question, but Larry answered it."

  "Fine. I've been thinking... about that eye appointment you said I should have..." He paused, looking grim, the pencil in his hand now doing a frantic tap dance on the desktop.

  "Yes?" She braced herself for his excuse.

  *13*

  Jared was probably going to come up with some reason as to why he couldn’t take the eye exam. He had used it as leverage to get her to agree to working in the office. Now he was going to back out.

  "Why don't you set it up for me right away, before I have second thoughts?”

  His request surprised her, delighted her. She wondered what brought it up. "Yessir. Right away."

  She hurried back to the computer before he could change his mind. It was still open to his schedule. Good. She didn’t have to bother trying to call it up.

  Flipping through the phone book, Ellen found a referral service that gave her a list of optometrists just beginning their practice in the area. She read the names and locations back to Jared. He chose one and she dialed their office.

  The receptionist answered. "I know we're just starting out, but Dr. Hammon did a special for the school children to get his name known in the area. We're booked for a couple of weeks, unless you can come in Friday the twenty-seventh."

  Ellen scrolled through Jared's appointments. He was going to be with an owner's representa
tive most of that day discussing the new yacht scheduled to be started the next month. "No."

  "The first of July? On Monday?"

  She checked. It looked open. "What time?"

  "Three P.M."

  "He'll be there."

  "What's the problem?"

  "I'll let him tell you himself."

  "Fine. Is this your son?"

  "No, no, no. My boss. I'm his office manager."

  Ellen hung up. Definitely not her son, not with her feelings for him.

  She had been right, of course. Being with Jared so much had destroyed her "teacher's edge" forever. She would never be in complete control of her emotions again. Not where he was involved. One look of his was enough to send her thoughts racing back to those blissful moments on the boat.

  She flipped open the envelope with Sharon's picture in it. She should tape the photo to the computer screen, to keep herself from dreaming. A constant reality check. She needed it, with Jared so near he sent her blood soaring, her pulse throbbing, and her mind into blanksville. From now on, tutoring was going to be twice as hard.

  Yet, in spite of how he rocked her emotions, she was glad Jared was back in the office. It made her feel more secure with him in charge. It made her eminently happy. Searching for a reason to move closer, she gathered up the mail and carried it in to him. He kept her there, wanting her to read each item, after which he told her what to do with it. She attached a sticky note to each as a reminder.

  Sharon's letter, which dropped broad hints about having dinner together, brought a broad grin to Jared's face, his eyes twinkling with laughter. "So that's what they've been writing to me. I never could ask Donna to read my personal mail."

  "What did you do?"

  "Call them up on the phone... sometimes. Other times, deep six in the wastebasket."

  "This one?"

  "Leave it. Thanks. I know her number."

  She gathered up the rest of the mail and left the room, more depressed than when she went in. So Sharon was someone he was interested in. She did not blame him.

  Jared closed his eyes, relaxing behind his desk, satisfied with the way the arrangement was working out. Ellen had been so convinced she would make a total mess of the job, she'd actually had him worried, but she looked to be picking it up without any problem. He could let Donna go next Wednesday, like she'd wanted, instead of keeping her working up to her wedding day.

  He had lunched with Pat Peters after he left Bunny, eating lightly at both places. The meeting with Pat had been harrowing, as the lawyer kept pushing papers at him. It gave Jared one more reason to want to read. He hated signing contracts; putting his name down on a piece of paper filled with small print and not having a clue what he was agreeing to, except for the information he could elicit from the other person. He may have just signed the company away, for all he knew.

  Opening his eyes, he saw Ellen bending over the keyboard, her red hair—titian—pulling out of its severe twist, and he felt a sense of contentment flow through him. She was the most caring woman he had ever run across. If only she'd stop hovering over him. It sometimes made him wish she did not know his secret.

  She probably thought she needed her hair like that to look as professional as possible—which was fine for the office, but he'd rather see it down like she'd worn it Saturday. He would love to run his fingers through it, scattering the pins as it tumbled over his hands. The color reminded him of the exotic silk sari used by Elenora Van Chattan as a wall hanging on her yacht, the fragile fabric interwoven with strands of gold.

  He dialed Sharon, spoke with her at length and hung up, breaking off contact with her with the words he had used over and over for the same purpose: he was not ready to go out with anyone on a regular basis.

  Ellen was now filing things, moving from cabinet to cabinet with an inborn grace, now and then tucking back a stray wisp of hair. She worked hard, as conscientious and organized as Donna had ever been.

  Things would be different with Ellen around. He would not have to close his office door or pretend to be reading. He'd have more time to spend in the actual construction of the yachts.

  He'd have more time for Ellen, too. His life had become filled with her presence. No longer did he feel the need to sail every night to ease the demons tormenting him.

  He realized he had been lonely, even keeping as busy as he could, meeting with designers and builders, dating weekly. No one had known his secret, so he had no one he felt totally at ease with. Ellen had entered his life like a sparkling spring day after a dark and rainy winter. Her companionship drew him. He did not want to drift away from her.

  The rest of the day passed pleasantly for him. He left his door open, answering Ellen's questions, admiring her quickness when not engaged in business discussions with one of his workers. He liked the way she said his first name, her gentle voice lengthening the hard "J," making it pleasing to his ear.

  They traveled back to his house in separate cars—him leading—and he opened the garage by remote so they could drive in. As she closed her car door, she said, "Do you have any problem driving?"

  He smiled, amused by her expression. "I only drive when I know where I'm going.” It was fairly easy, unless some construction rerouted things. Even then, they usually put up arrows. “The rest of the time I use taxis or limousines." On dates, a limo impressed the ladies; they never knew it was a necessity.”

  "With everything you've taught yourself to do, it's a wonder you haven't already taught yourself to read."

  "But you see, I was too...." He caught himself. "I felt I was too dumb to learn."

  "You don't feel that way any more, do you?"

  "No... I guess I don't."

  "Your father would never have made that statement if he had known you were having problems. All he could see was the end result."

  "My brother got straight A's without any effort. I was just passed along because of my age." He used to wonder if he was adopted, but he was not going to tell Ellen that. Anytime he told her about his struggles as a child, she saw him as a victim—a person to be pitied. He wanted her to think of him as a strong man. He had to portray himself that way... to create the illusion. To do that, he needed to hide his past from her; to keep from building a more negative view than she already had.

  "Getting passed along like that happens to a lot of students," she said. "The teachers are so overwhelmed with discipline problems, they don't have time to teach—or to ferret out gaps in their pupil's education."

  "I never did learn how to read a map," he admitted. "Do you know how demeaning it is to ask directions to a place because you can't read what someone's written... and you can't read a map... or street signs...?"

  "No.... I hadn't thought about it."

  "That's one of my dreams. To take a map, and follow it, and end up wherever I want to go... a thousand miles down the road, without ever asking directions of anyone. I’ve used a GPS unit, when I can copy the address from something, but it’s not the same.”

  "It's a skill quickly learned. Maps have a code all their own. I've one in my glove box. I'll get it. We can use it for reading material tonight."

  Ellen turned towards her car, but he caught her hand. "Wait. I... I know that although I'm paying you, you are doing more, much more than a job." He paused, his thoughts racing as he searched for words. He'd like to know how to read a map, but not right now. In the office today, he'd been the one with the answers and it felt good. He had enjoyed being boss, giving the orders. It had changed their relationship and he did not want to go back to being the student, at least not today.

  She looked tired and would probably be glad to go home and rest up. He longed to keep her with him, but not as a teacher.

  "I want you to know, I'm not ungrateful; that I realize the extra effort you make." He smiled, the barest flash to be sure, but Ellen must have caught it, for she smiled back.

  "Thank you." She reached for her car door. "I'll get the map."

  "Not now. Tomorrow."
/>   She glanced back at him, looking surprised. "You don't want to read tonight?"

  "I think we could both use a break. Come on in, I'll order pizza. Or would you like Chinese?"

  Her face lit up. "Chinese. Or Thai. I really like Thai cooking."

  "I know a Thai place in Eastgate that delivers. I'll call them."

  She headed for the bathroom as he looked at his phone notes. The numbers shifted drunkenly and he fought to keep them still until he dialed.

  The order compete, he began to shut the drawer, then hesitated as the logo of the florist he always used caught his attention. He had an account with them and without further thought, dialed their number from memory. The order of a dozen red roses seemed to be just the thing he wanted.

  "There. Much better," Ellen said, coming out to join him. She had undone her hair and taken off the short jacket she had worn in the air-conditioned office. It made her much more approachable; neither office manager nor teacher.

  Her soft green eyes, accented by the gold blouse she wore, shone up at him, her lips—free of lipstick, but not needing any—asked to be kissed. Or was it just his imagination, running wild?

  He reeled in his charging emotions and moved over to the sink to dump his dirty dishes in the dishwasher. He had left in a hurry this morning, eager to be at the office before her.

  "Let me help," she said, sliding her body between Jared and the counter. She rinsed while he loaded, their hands brushing as the dishes were passed. He enjoyed the intimacy the situation afforded, and for the first time in his life wished for piles of dirty dishes.

  The Thai driver delivered before the florist. They were eagerly trying the different dishes—Jared had ordered several—when the doorbell rang again.

  "I'll get it," he said. It was the regular florist delivery man and, in a great mood, Jared tipped him handsomely, then carried in his offering.

  "For you." He thrust them at her, hoping she wouldn't say something silly and refuse them.

  She didn't. "For... for me? What...? I mean... thank you. I've never, ever gotten roses before. But why?"

  He shifted, uncomfortable with her question. It had been an impulse; he truly did not know why he had ordered them... and then, suddenly, he did. He hated being on the receiving end all the time, with her always giving to him. It was not right. A man was supposed to take care of a woman. That is if he was really a man.