by Nancy Radke
"By the way, stay away from Rochelle, if you can. I don't want you to have to talk ballooning with her. Not until you've actually gone."
"Agreed. But what about yourself?"
"She's described it to me so often, I could repeat her experiences back to her. It works, I've done it before."
Ellen nodded as she drove slowly through the Yacht Club’s gates.
Once inside, Jared excused himself to join the receiving line. His absence made Ellen feel lost as she walked around the beautiful rooms filled with people. A buffet meal was laid out, the meat items including two huge salmon which had been cooked, de-boned, jelled, then put back into its skin.
She wandered around a few more minutes, munching on mints and nuts, then found herself searching for Jared. She finally spotted him, in line, being kissed by every woman that came by—and looking like he was enjoying it. They weren't perfunctory kisses either, like the rest of the men in line were receiving. What was there about Jared that made women fall at his feet?
She did not want to become one of them. She needed to put some distance between herself and Jared Steel before she lost her heart entirely—although it was probably too late.
Turning away, she strode rapidly across the room to where some of the shipyard crew had formed a small circle. She joined them, enjoying their comments and conversation for some time before realizing that they were at the end of the receiving line. It would look funny if she left now, so she stayed, talking to Larry.
Jared watched Ellen come through the line toward him. He couldn't wait until she reached him, and gave the young woman who was trying to kiss him an indifferent peck on the cheek and hurried her on.
He had not liked being separated from Ellen. There were only a few people behind her in line, the last of his crew, and he figured it was okay to leave now. He considered abandoning all other duties, but knew he couldn't; not with Richard still needing assistance.
Ellen put out her hand as she reached him, and he merely stepped forward and drew her arm through his. Her precious arm... so capable, so soft and delicate. He pressed it close to his side.
The opportunity was there—he kissed her.
She jumped back, startled, when their lips met, as if it were the last thing she expected. His gaze lingered on her mouth for a second before he checked out her eyes, deep green, touched with amber. He couldn’t tell whether she had enjoyed his kiss or not. He had.
"Let's eat," he said, and steered Ellen toward the buffet tables where the food—although replenished—was disappearing fast. He helped her fill a plate, filled one for himself, and looked around for a quiet place to eat. He preferred to have her to himself, away from this crowd, but could not leave yet, so gave up and sat at a table with some of the crew.
Rochelle came over, concerned that Richard was overdoing things, and Jared excused himself long enough to put the gifts in Richard's car. Then he hurried back inside, searching for Ellen.
She was dancing with Larry, and Jared strode over and tapped his production manager on the shoulder, unwilling to wait until the end of the song and slightly jealous that Larry was holding her so tightly. It was a slow waltz and Jared gathered Ellen in close, pleased that she followed his lead so easily. She fit like she belonged there.
He was a good dancer, had always been, following the rhythm with his body. His feet moved in time to the music, but his head stayed up somewhere in the clouds.
Ellen was all a man could ask for; and more. She was honest, dependable, beautiful and loyal. The last being a sore point.
If only she did not carry loyalty to the point of defending him like a mother hen with one chick. It had taken several hours for him to cool down after their meeting with Angelique. He was attracted to Ellen, he knew, but fighting it.
Fighting hard. He laughed silently at himself, feeling her soft body move against him, the heady scent of her perfume filling his every breath. Really struggling.
His lips touched her hair, so soft and fine, reminding him again of their night trip in the Sea Sprite. He had lived and re-lived that countless times, changing the scenario, wondering what would have happened if the motor boat had not buzzed them.
"I should go," she said when the music ended. "I promised my parents I would drop in after the wedding."
"Of course," he said, feeling lonely the second she stepped out of their dancing embrace. Pain deep inside made him realize how much he wanted her near. It was not fair for her to leave just when he had time to spend alone with her.
He walked her out to her car and held the door as she got in. When she rolled down the window, he leaned forward, halfway inside with his hand on the opening. Every nerve within him refused to let her go.
"Could you come to my show, tomorrow? You could bring your dad," he added, although he would rather have her to himself.
"I can’t. I promised to take my cousin up to Mt. Rainier. We've planned this for months. Maybe next week."
"Next week's out. They're bumping us for a two-hour special. It happens now and then."
"We've plenty of time."
Her voice sounded matter-of-fact, almost as if she was distancing herself from him. Maybe she really did not care for him as much as he hoped. Her eyes could have been sparkling with her enjoyment of the wedding—not because of him. "Of course." Had she disliked him kissing her?
"See you Monday," she said.
A whole day away from her would feel like a month. No matter how she treated him, he wanted her nearby.
"Drive carefully," he added, wanting to kiss her again, but put off by her manner. He watched her drive away, feeling the joy go out of his day.
He stared down at the pavement in silent frustration. If only he could read. Then he would feel like a whole man, instead of one with a part missing. A man capable of taking care of Ellen, instead of someone who depended upon her. He should have driven her to the reception, not the other way around. He could have asked her for directions.
He had learned a lot of words under her tutelage, but still was not any closer to reading long sentences than when he started. Would he ever conquer the problem enough that Ellen would look up to him instead of always feeling as if she had to "protect" him?
The situation was gradually growing intolerable.
*18*
A week later, Ellen stood near the doorway of Jared's living room. It was full of people... bright lights and evening dresses in harmony with the opulent decor of the room. Everything seemed to be going smoothly, although her jaws ached from smiling so much.
She was glad she wore an expensive evening gown, having spent two afternoons searching through Kirkland's consignment shops to find it. The compliments received so far on the moss green silk showed her her choice was sound, and if any doubts had remained, the glow of appreciation in Jared's eyes settled it.
Jared had given her time off to shop, insisting she be suitably dressed, even though work was hectic that week, with both of them attending to the regular office work in addition to a new yacht order. The extra work had forced Jared and Ellen, along with Larry and the new owner's rep, to put in such long days at the office that the nightly tutoring sessions had been skipped.
As promised, the party was catered, and her job consisted mainly of making sure no one was left out. The yacht had arrived around eight P.M., after the Van Chattans had picked up their friends at the Kirkland marina.
"Isn't the new boat exciting?" Ellen asked an older woman next to her. It had been the center of conversation all evening, and rightly so.
"Yes. I've never seen anything so beautiful." She waved her heavily ringed hands in the air as she spoke, a Southern accent prominent in her voice.
"Jared strives to make everything perfect; all our crew do."
"Does his company build smaller boats also?"
Ellen nodded.
"I think I'll see if my husband will consider getting one for us. It is getting so hard to set up hotel reservations... and you never know what kind of place you’
ll find.”
"Then you really should talk with Jared."
"I think we will. I’ll suggest it to Mike, then I feel we’ll have to go. Zack drove us here; we are staying with him and Jennel at their lovely home, but as you can see, Jennel is drooping. That baby is not an easy carry." She motioned to the young mother-to-be, collapsed in one of Jared’s large chairs.
“How far along is she?”
"Eight months. Zack has hired a cleaning lady, but I advised her to fly her mother out from Boston to help once the baby is born. Daughters usually don’t hesitate to ask for help from their own mothers."
“I hope to see you later, checking out some yachts.”
“You probably will.”
Ellen let her gaze travel around the room, checking to see that all was well. She would have enjoyed her hostessing job more if the Van Chattans had left their dark-eyed granddaughter at home. Vanessa had not strayed from Jared's side since she arrived, and the soft cooing of her voice had immediately set Ellen's temper on edge.
From her spot by the door, she could see them standing side by side, Vanessa's arm linked through Jared's. She was one of those women who could be anywhere between fifteen and twenty five. Vanessa wore a blue dress that revealed more cleavage than most bikinis. Was it the one Jared had encouraged her to wear?
The hot emotion Ellen felt could only be jealousy.
She chided herself, trying to cast off the emotion. She had no more right than Vanessa to be hanging onto his arm. He wasn’t her man. A few kisses meant nothing; Jared had probably forgotten he ever kissed her. The one in the reception line probably was just automatic for him, but her reaction to his touch had shocked her to her core. The feel of his lips still lingered. It hurt to see him with Vanessa.
She saw Jared glance past the man he was talking to, his searching gaze meeting hers before she had a chance to look away. She dropped hers swiftly, not wanting him to think she had been staring. Her heart thumping heavily, she turned her back on the room and swept into the kitchen to make an unnecessary check on the caterers.
"Anything wrong, Ellen?" the caterer inquired as she transferred a large assortment of canapés onto a serving tray.
"No. Just taking a break. How do you manage this?"
"Planning. We've catered some parties where no one knows if fifty or two hundred will show. At least Mr. Steel lets us know the exact number of guests. He's the perfect client. Never grumbles if I have to make a last minute substitution. Here he is now."
He was alone for once, and the sight of him in his white dinner jacket filled Ellen with pride. He appeared so upbeat and comfortable around all these people; no one would believe his tragic secret even if he told them. Jared Steel, the man who had everything.
He acknowledged her with a nod before turning his irresistible charm upon the caterer. "Excellent food, Sally. You and your staff have outdone yourselves tonight."
Sally laughed cheerily. "We want you to feel that way. Then you'll hire us again."
"We will, when we can get you. You're usually booked up, and I can see why. You're good for business."
"Did you sell the boat?" Sally asked.
"It's all done except for filling out some final papers. Ellen, I'll want you present while we wrap it up."
"Of course. Is Richard still here?"
"No. Too tired. He and his wife left about twenty minutes ago. We won't need him. Let's go."
She followed him out, hoping he would stop and talk to her alone, just for a few minutes. But he strode in front of her, giving orders. "You need to find both John and Elenora and bring them to the study. I'll set the papers out."
"Very well." She turned away, the excitement of the party leaving her. For the first time that night, she felt tired. She refused to let it show, keeping her backbone straight as she traversed the house.
John was easily found, but Ellen had to search for his wife. The pair had not strayed far from each other's side all evening, but this time there was no sign of her. Entering one of the bathrooms, she found Vanessa freshening her makeup.
"Have you seen your grandmother?" Ellen asked.
"I think she went into the library to look at Jared's book collection. She said something about it being extensive. Gran loves books."
"Thanks," Ellen said, glad she had followed Jared’s instructions and removed all her teaching materials from the house.
Vanessa gave her a quizzical glance. "I really like your dress. I had one a lot like it, last year. I thought it was a designer original—one of a kind, you know. It just goes to show...." She shook her head in disgust. "Where'd you get yours?"
Ellen paused, her hand still on the door, her mind blank. "Uh... at a small shop. I don't remember the name."
"Mine was a lighter shade of green, I think."
"Probably.” Ellen cleared her throat, fighting down the desire to burst out laughing. Just her luck—to buy one of Vanessa's old gowns. “This was supposed to be an exclusive design, also," she added. “Italian.” Then remembering the balloon ride that never happened, she curbed her tongue.
"No matter. I got rid of mine." Vanessa rolled her lipstick back into the tube and dropped it into her purse. "What's it like, working for Jared?"
"I just started, so can't really say."
Vanessa shrugged. "Either he's easy to please, or he likes to compliment people. He was singing your praises all night. He seems to think you're very efficient."
"Good. I try to be."
"Even on a balloon ride."
"Oh. That's... that's nice to know." Ellen ducked her head to hide her laughter and shot out the door. Jared and his balloon ride. He had talked about it all last week, trying to get up enough courage to actually go. To her amazement, he had her book a ride for the last of July.
She headed for the library, her step lighter. So Jared thought she was efficient. That was good, because Donna had not thought so.
Ellen paused at the library door, her fingertips pressed against the smooth wood. He thought Donna and the rest of his workers were efficient. She wanted Jared to think more of her. So much more.
As for Jared's talking about her... what did Vanessa mean? Had he used her as a point of conversation among his guests: the new office manager, doing so well, so please overlook that small blunder? The only way to find out was to ask, and Ellen was not insecure enough to need to do that. Turning the knob, she entered the room.
Elenora was curled up with a book. She looked guilty when Ellen found her. "I'm sorry. Am I needed?"
"Not until now."
"Good. I'm a compulsive bookworm. I'd rather read than anything, even party with my friends."
"I know the feeling." Books were much less complicated than people.
"I love to explore other people's libraries and see what's there. Jared has such varied tastes. I could spend days in here, browsing."
If you only knew how much he wants to read all these, Ellen thought. He'd love to browse through them, too.
Elenora re-shelved the volume, then looked around. "I really must show this to John."
"You share everything, don't you?" Ellen asked. The two worked together so smoothly, they gave new meaning to the word "love."
"That's what makes a marriage work. Did you notice, tonight, how often Jared looked for you?"
"Are you sure? Vanessa was with him—-"
"Monopolizing his time. I could have kicked my granddaughter. I tried to disengage her, but couldn't. She tends to attach herself to the most eligible man around, no matter who it is."
Ellen nodded as they left the room. She had caught Jared looking at her, quite a few times. But he could have been just making sure she was doing things right as his hostess.
Jared had the papers memorized, and as he and the Van Chattans signed them, Ellen kept them in order.
The yacht was well over a million and Ellen wondered if she would ever get used to the amount of money that changed hands. The checks she wrote for the company to pay some of the suppliers had
seemed hefty at the time, but they were small compared to the total.
Although... yesterday, five of the checks she had written were almost twenty thousand each.
With the purchase complete, the Van Chattans left while Ellen and Jared put the documents away.
"How did you memorize all that?" she asked.
"I asked Donna to put it on a CD so I could study it while I was driving around."
"Clever man. I discovered one thing about you though; one habit I bet you don't know you have."
"Which is?"
"Whenever you're going to talk someone into something, you half-lower your eyelids, tilt your head back and focus all your attention on them."
"I do?"
"You do."
"Now that I'm aware of it, I'll have to break it off."
"Don't. It gives me advanced warning."
"Oh, it does, does it? Then I'll really have to watch myself." He placed the papers in his briefcase, to be returned to the office on Monday. "That's it," Jared said. "Let's wrap this up. The Van Chattans have invited you and me to join them on their first trip through the locks."
"Tonight?"
"Yes. Want to go?"
"I'd love to." Had Elenora included her because she knew it might further Ellen and his relationship... if there was one? Ellen thought it might just be, and could have kissed the older women. As she had said, she was hopelessly romantic.
"We'll drop their friends off at the Kirkland marina first, travel through the locks, take a short cruise around Elliot Bay, then go to Shilshole, which will be their home berth."
The caterers placed the last of the food on the Affinity. Larry was in the wheel house with George and John, leaving Jared and Ellen free to help Elenora with the passengers.
As soon as they were under way, Jared called Ellen over to the main stereo unit.
"Which one do you prefer?" he asked, showing her five CD's with quiet dance music.
She looked over the selection and picked out one with Glenn Miller on it. The majority of the Van Chattan's friends were in their sixties or older, so they should enjoy it. "This one. And this other one looks good, too."