by Mary Alford
“That sounds a little too much like a challenge to pass up. Once the kitchen is functioning I’ll make you dinner, and you can judge for yourself whether or not I can cook.”
I didn’t have time to come up with a snappy response. Over the loudspeaker, our flight was being announced and we were scrambling to gather our stuff before boarding the plane.
“Are you feeling homesick?” Aaron had asked the same question at least a dozen times over the past week, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell him the truth. Of course, I was homesick. I missed Texas terribly.
“Why don’t you try and get some sleep. This is going to be a long flight. Oh, and I have a surprise for you waiting at my house. But you’ll have to wait until tomorrow because I’m too tired to show it to you tonight. I’ll have the car drop you off first before…”
Much to my surprise, Aaron was halfway asleep.
Once our plane landed in Austin and I’d somehow managed to wake my boss, we were both too beat to talk much on the drive to my apartment. Aaron dropped me off after telling me he’d give me a call the following day.
I confess, I wasn’t listening. I was one of the walking dead. I managed to unlock my apartment, drop my bags wherever they landed when I tossed them inside, and crawl into bed. The plan was to sleep at least until Sunday morning.
So you can imagine my surprise at being awakened before eight the following morning by someone ringing my doorbell. Actually, it was more like someone was holding his or her hand down over the buzzer. I wasn’t ready to face anyone and be nice.
When I opened the door to Aaron’s smiling face, I closed it again. Definitely not ready to deal with him.
“Grace, open the door.” I didn’t, but that didn’t stop him from walking into my apartment even though I was already halfway back to my bed.
He reached for my arm to stop me. “Oh no you don’t, sleepyhead. Here—drink this.” In his hand was a large cup of Starbucks coffee, which I simply stared at. I wasn’t ready for coffee yet.
“Go away and come back at a more decent time of the day.” I headed toward my bedroom again but he still held my arm.
“Are you always this grouchy in the morning?” He stopped speaking then when he caught sight of my anger.
“Are you always this cheerful?” I countered.
“Never mind. Drink this and then go get dressed. We’ve got lots to do today.”
I sat down on my sofa and stared back up at him. “What could possibly be so important?”
“We’re going car shopping, and I have to show you your surprise.” It hit me then just how pitiful I must look to him, sitting on my sofa dressed only in my pajama bottoms and tank top, which I was beginning to realize was a little too inappropriate considering what had happened between us in New York.
Aaron caught on about the same time I did. “Do you always answer the door dressed only in your PJs?”
He stopped when he saw my reaction to that and tried to make amends. “Never mind. Come on, Grace. Drink up and go get dressed. Your surprise is waiting for you downstairs.”
I was actually beginning to get a little curious. I still took my time getting dressed. I figured I needed to make up for the awful way I appeared when he’d arrived. So I found my best pair of comfortable jeans and nicest tee shirt.
When I faced Aaron again I felt a little more human.
“I’m sorry I was so mean to you earlier.” I realized he’d actually made me more coffee.
“Are you feeling better now?” He handed me another cup, and even though it wasn’t Starbucks, I took it gratefully. I needed all the help I could get.
“Yes, thank you.” I actually managed to smile. “So what’s this surprise you’ve got waiting for me?”
“Finally, she’s curious. Come downstairs and see.”
I followed him outside, unsure what I was expecting. Certainly not the brand-new, bright red Corvette convertible parked in front of my apartment building for the whole world to see.
“What’s this?” I tried to hide my surprise. I was afraid I already knew the answer to that question.
“This…is a Corvette. You remember, one of your stipulations?”
“What exactly are you trying to say, Aaron?”
He tossed me the keys. “What I’m saying is this is your car.”
“I have a car already. And I’m not accepting that thing from you.” I handed him back the keys, refusing to look at the car.
We stood with our eyes locked in silent battle over the hood of the car when two teenage boys whom I recognized from the building stopped next to it.
“Is this your car, Grace?” Eric, the taller of the two boys, was clearly impressed.
“No, it’s not my car.”
“Yes, it is,” Aaron responded much to my annoyance and to Eric’s confusion.
“Hey, man, if you’re giving the car away, I’ll take it if Grace doesn’t want it.”
“He’s not giving the car away, Eric. Don’t you two have somewhere else to be?”
“Well, it sounds like he’s giving the car away.”
At Eric’s astute deductions, Aaron started to laugh, and I tried hard to keep from joining him. I was, after all, still not happy with him.
“Okay, I’m not exactly giving the car away. I can’t because it’s Grace’s.”
I shook my head and let go of my frustration in a loud sigh. I’d decided I wasn’t going to argue any further in front of Eric or his friend. “Eric, go home.”
The boys glanced from Aaron to me and decided it was probably a good time to leave.
“Why won’t you take the car?” Aaron asked me once they were out of earshot.
“I can’t take something as expensive as a car from you. Especially this car! It would be wrong.”
“I disagree, but until I can convince you otherwise, let’s not argue over it, okay? I’ll leave the car at my house, and when you come to your senses you can have it.”
“You can do whatever you want with it as far as I’m concerned, because I’m not taking this car from you.”
Too late, I realized I may have actually hurt his feelings by my hasty words, and I remembered again Grandma Ruth’s favorite reproof. “Think before you speak, Grace.” Unfortunately, I was finding it hard to believe I could affect Aaron in such a way. I dismissed the thought from my mind as completely ludicrous.
“Fine, but I meant what I said.”
“So did I,” I insisted.
“Are you always this stubborn?
“Are you always this hardheaded?”
Over the top of the car, we both realized how childish we were behaving at the same time. Aaron grinned and I lost my anger completely.
“Get in. I’ll show you what you’re missing out on.”
I have to admit, even though I didn’t intend to take the car from him, after Aaron let me get behind the wheel it was one of the toughest decisions I’d ever had to stick behind. I loved the car and it was magic to drive. It was low and fast and you could feel every little move it made. I had to keep telling myself I was not going to allow anything, especially a car, to become important to me. But man oh man, it was hard.
“So how was your first night in the new mansion?” I watched him squeeze his eyes shut when we almost missed a sharp corner and I had him reaching for the handle on the passenger side. “You can open your eyes now.”
“It was good, but I’d like to spend another one there so could you slow down please! Better yet, pull over and let me drive.”
I was laughing so hard that it was almost impossible to see the road for a minute. I found a nice, empty parking lot and stopped the car.
“Scared?” Reluctantly, I got out of the driver’s seat. “I didn’t think anything scared you.”
“No, I just value my life too much to ever let you drive this thing again.”
“Then I guess you’d better return it.”
He gave me one of his looks. “I don’t think so. I’m going to talk you into taking it one
day.”
“Where exactly are we going?” I asked to change the subject when Aaron shifted lanes and pulled into a car lot.
“I told you. We’re looking for a car for me. Not this one,” he inserted when I was ready to point out the obvious. “Sorry, but my sports car days are over. It’s too hard getting in and out of this thing.”
I smirked. “So are you getting a pickup truck then?”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? No, I’m thinking more along the lines of one of those.” Aaron pointed at an expensive Mercedes in the showroom window and I groaned. Was Aaron all about the flash?
“I know what you’re thinking and it’s not the case. It’s just that I’ve wanted one of those cars since I was sixteen years old.”
Chapter Nine
It was two days before Thanksgiving, and I still hadn’t told Aaron I wanted to go home to be with my grandparents. I fully believed his plans were to work straight through the week.
There had been at least half a dozen times I’d come close to asking, but, as always, something kept my mouth shut. Aaron, being a workaholic, had never once asked me if I had plans for the holiday. I doubted he even remembered it was a holiday.
My grandmother’s conversation the night before was still fresh in my memory. As always, she knew something was up with me. She asked me every single time I talked to her if I would be coming home. I’d finally been forced to confess the truth the night before. I had no idea when or even if I could come home.
“Honey, you need to talk to him. Tell him you want to come see your family. I’m sure he will understand. Why don’t you invite him along as well?” I’d almost laughed out loud at the thought of Aaron sharing our simple Thanksgiving tradition at the mission. No, it was too ridiculous to consider.
“I’m sure he has his own plans.” Even as I said it I didn’t believe it.
“You might be surprised. I mean I know you don’t want Aaron spending Thanksgiving all alone. He is by himself in a new place.”
I felt so ashamed, but it also had me wondering as well. Was that the real reason Aaron spent so much time at work? Did he feel the loss of his family more this time of the year? Any city, even one the size of Austin, could be cold and uncaring when you were alone in it.
So two days before Thanksgiving, and the day before I was hoping to leave for home, at almost eight in the evening, I finally got the nerve up to tell Aaron the truth.
Regrettably, it came out in my usual blunt way. We’d just finished going through some upcoming client meetings—including one with an Elise Simmons who owned a string of health clubs named after her and who, because of Stephen Donaldson’s complacency through the past few years, was close to pulling her business completely. The woman had refused to take any of the previous senior executive’s calls entirely.
“Try to reach her assistant again tomorrow, will you?” He’d asked me to set up the meeting as soon as possible, which meant I had to find a way to convince her assistant to agree to a meeting in the first place. I knew I had my work cut out for me.
“I can’t. I’m going home to see my family tomorrow.”
“Why?” He was confused by my answer.
“Aaron, have you forgotten this Thursday is Thanksgiving? I always spend Thanksgiving with my family. I was hoping to leave tomorrow.”
I added that last part over my shoulder because I was beginning to fear his anger and was heading for the door while I still could.
“Were you afraid to ask me for time off?” I watched his reaction. To my surprise, I was finding I was hurting him quite a lot lately.
“Of course you must go home. Don’t be silly; you need to spend time with your family. I know how important they are to you. Go, the place will be dead until next week anyway. We’ll pick this up then.”
It was then I remembered my grandmother’s words, and for the first time I considered Aaron.
“What about you? What are you going to be doing?”
He gave me his usual teasing look that told me he was finding all of my concern a little bit out of character for me.
“I’ll be fine. There’s no need to worry about me.”
“But you’ll be here alone. You could come with me instead?” I added and regretted the impulse immediately when I remembered the five-hour (under the best of conditions) drive to Amarillo, all of which would be made in close quarters with Aaron.
“You’re asking me to spend Thanksgiving with you and your family?” I think this shocked him more than my earlier concern.
“Yes?”
“Are you asking because you’re worried about me?”
“Yes.”
“What will your grandparents say?” Aaron had stopped smiling. He wasn’t even teasing anymore. He’d gone still, and I could no longer read anything in the expression on his face.
“My grandparents asked me to invite you. They’re concerned about you as well. They don’t want you to be alone. We’d like for you to be there.”
“Let me get this straight.” Aaron was having a hard enough time trying to understand what I was doing such a lousy job at asking him. “You want me to come, or you’re simply inviting me because your grandparents are worried about me?”
Aaron watched me a little too close for comfort. For some reason, I believed my answer was important to him.
“I want you to come. I consider you my friend, and I don’t want you to spend Thanksgiving alone.”
Aaron stood and walked over to the window, without looking at me. I couldn’t help but believe something in what I’d said to him had upset him.
“You think of me as a friend?” It was my turn to be curious. I saw his expression reflected in the window. Aaron had never appeared more serious.
“Yes. I consider you my friend.”
Our gazes met in the window’s reflection, but he didn’t say anything for such a long time that I wondered if perhaps I’d overstepped my secretarial boundaries.
Aaron was a difficult man to figure out at the best of times. He had so many ways of self-preservation. Was the friendly way he treated me in the past just part of an attempt at maneuvering me into doing what he wanted? Was I only his secretary and nothing more? I was still trying to work through all these things when I realized he stood next to me.
“I consider you my friend too, and I’d be honored to share the holiday with you and your family.”
I finally could breathe again. “Good. I should warn you, though, Thanksgiving at the Beckett household means work. We help make dinner for the folks over at the shelter in town. Grandpa Harry holds a service there as well. So you should know ahead of time what you’re getting yourself in on. We aren’t your normal family, and this won’t be a normal, traditional dinner.”
He was smiling again. “I see. Well, to be honest with you, it’s been a long time since I’ve had a normal Thanksgiving dinner. So long, in fact, I have no idea what it means anymore. I used to spend the holidays with Jenna and her family, but over the past few years I’ve ended up traveling so much that I end up in some hotel somewhere forgetting what day it even is. It will be nice to remember. So what time are you leaving in the morning?”
“Early.” Which for me meant if I was out of town before noon I was doing good.
“And you’re staying until Sunday?”
“Yes. I want to attend my grandfather’s church service on Sunday morning. What? Are you planning to work the whole time? I bet you can’t leave home without that laptop or yours.”
“Oh, you think I can’t do it, do you?”
“I know you can’t. Five days without a computer or e-mail and you’ll go nuts.”
“If that’s a bet then you’re on. But what do I get if I win?”
“The satisfaction of having spent the entire weekend without so much as thinking about work.”
“Okay, I’ll pick you up at ten but I’m driving. I’ve seen you in action. You want to take the Vette?”
“No. Absolutely not! That’s the last thing I n
eed my grandparents to see me riding in. They’ll never get another minute’s peace thinking you have me riding around in that death trap. What are you doing?” I asked when he closed his laptop and reached for his jacket.
“Well, Grace, if we’re leaving for Amarillo in the morning, I think it’s time I go home and pack, don’t you?”
Aaron and I were walking out to the parking lot together in silence when he asked, “Want to come have dinner with me? I could show you I’m no stranger to the kitchen, and you haven’t seen the place since it was finished.”
I’d been dying to see how my favorite decorators had done on the place. I’d hinted around enough to know that Aaron was pleased with them, but I would have given just about anything to see the final results. I just hadn’t been able to bring myself to ask.
“So you keep telling me, but I’m sorry, I don’t believe it.”
“Then you have to let me prove it to you. Why don’t we leave your car here over the weekend? It will probably be safer here than at your apartment anyway.”
As much as I hated to admit it, Aaron was a wonderful cook. Far better than me.
He showed me around the house first, which was amazing, before telling me to make myself at home while he started dinner.
“You’re sure you don’t want me to help you?” Instead of staying in the living room, all alone, I followed him back to the kitchen and sat at the table, watching him prepare chicken in a way I’d never seen before.
“What you mean is you don’t trust me, right?”
“No…I’m just not used to being waited on. You know it goes against every single one of my secretarial instincts.”
“I didn’t know you had any secretarial instincts.” He put the chicken in the oven and grinned at me over his shoulder.
“Funny. So what exactly are you making there?”
“It’s my specialty. Trust me, you’ll like it. Try this.” He handed me a glass of wine.