“Oh, really?” She still couldn’t hold back her laughter. “Did you really think I’d agree to such a bold suggestion?”
He picked up several apples and put them in his bag. “Look at it this way. If I ask and you say yes, great—we both win. However, if you say no, I don’t get what I want, but not asking also means I don’t get what I want. I have nothing to lose in asking.”
“I guess you’ve got a point,” she conceded, seriously considering his proposal.
“You did mention you don’t like eating alone…and I noticed that you have yet to tell me no, so can I assume you like my idea?”
She opened her mouth, blinked a couple times, then closed it again. With their gazes locked, she was unable to look away. Held hostage without a touch, she silently debated the situation. She liked his voice, and he worked at Hughes. Good or bad, all she could do was stare up into the hypnotic blue gaze that held her like a fly on sticky paper. True, she hadn’t turned him down, but why not? Easy. For the first time since her mother’s death, she felt a thrill at the thought of tomorrow. She had enjoyed their meal together the previous evening. The conversation had been light and entertaining, and even when discussing their parents, she’d felt a closeness with John like she’d never felt with another man.
“Well…?” He arched both eyebrows, quirked one side of his mouth up into a mischievous smile, and waited.
She could only stare. Words were locked behind the door where her heart pounded.
“I have a suggestion,” he added when she remained silent. “Why don’t we try it for a week and see how it goes?”
Her stomach churned. John leaned nonchalantly against a counter where boxes of cereal were artfully stacked. He appeared confident and relaxed, the total opposite of her. She wanted to say yes—wanted to know him better, and actually loved his idea since it would save her money and also mean not being alone every evening, but inner turmoil dredged up barriers. People would talk.
Mother, what should I do?
Her mind whirled with possibilities and potential problems. What if he ended up being like Eddie? Two dates and the guy wouldn’t take no for an answer now. Then she weighed the possible problems against having someone to talk with each evening—someone who was nice and polite. Besides, having him there each evening might discourage Eddie, and as she concluded back at the beginning, the trial arrangement would certainly help her budget.
In the end, she threw caution to the wind and made the decision based on what she wanted to do. “Yes. I’m willing to try it for one week.”
She couldn’t stop the smile that spread slowly, dragging warmth with it to flush her neck and ears. With a hand worrying a button on her dress, she pressed against her chest where a galloping herd of horses thundered across her heart.
“Great.”
Excitement wrapped her in a warm glow. She loved his smile, a smile that displayed white teeth against a deeply tanned face. He wore his dark brown hair a little longer than normal on the sides, but it flattered him. And boy does he look good in a suit. Even without a tie, as he was now, he belonged up on the big screen.
Then a thought pounced, drawing her shoulders back and narrowing her eyes to glare at him. “Are you looking to get into movies?”
“What?” His eyes widened as he pushed away from the counter and stood with both hands resting on his hips. “No way. I’m a designer—of planes.”
A frown dug a deep groove across his forehead, but gradually faded after she slowly smiled.
“Good.” She hesitated, but decided total honesty was the best answer. “I work at Paramount, and sometimes people want an introduction to someone in the industry.”
He stared for several more moments before his shoulders relaxed and his own smile returned. “I understand. So,” he said, glancing into her bag of groceries, “what meals are you planning?”
“Navy beans with cornbread and vegetable soup.”
He nodded. “I’ll get some ground beef for a small meat loaf and some potatoes and carrots, okay? And more spaghetti noodles and tomatoes. In fact, why don’t you tell me what is needed.”
Hannah tingled from head to toe as they wandered along together, putting food in their bags. With the meals planned for the next week, she began to relax.
“And as payment in advance for your cooking skills, can I buy you dinner tonight at the diner on the next corner? It’s too late to go home and cook.” He set the groceries on the counter and waited for the clerk to write down the cost of each item and add the column. Once he’d paid for the food, they were ready to go.
The pros and cons were quickly weighed, but in the end, she found it impossible to deny this man—especially since she wanted more time with him.
He picked up both bags of food, then patiently waited for her answer. With doubts and cautions shoved to the recesses of her mind, she nodded, committing herself to following his lead.
Reality lurked, asking why he had chosen her and why everything was happening so fast, but she quickly buried all the doubts and worries. She was walking on a cloud. If only this dream could last forever. Mr. Nolan had told her to find a new beau, so maybe that’s what she was doing. She definitely wanted to spend time with John, and that was what mattered most at the moment. Tomorrow was soon enough to listen to reason—and with any luck, tomorrow and reason would never come.
****
John stood at Hannah’s apartment door, smiling as he thought about how the first week eating together had gracefully slid into a second and then a third. Every evening, he knocked on her apartment door at seven o’clock. They’d eat, share about their day, and laugh about things said or done at work. Then he’d say goodnight and go home to an empty apartment to sleep. He couldn’t ignore his feelings much longer. It became harder each night to leave without holding her hand or kissing her goodnight. Would she even allow it?
He loved the moment she opened the door and smiled before ushering him inside. The anticipation of what she’d be wearing and whether her beautiful long hair would be worn up or down made him laugh and shake his head. This feeling was new, and it left him a bit confused.
“Hey, come on in.”
Tonight, her hair hung long and wavy, begging him to run his fingers through its thick length. He shoved his hands into his pockets and stepped inside, hesitating while she shut the door behind him.
“It smells wonderful in here.”
“Vegetable soup and cornbread,” she told him, grinning from ear to ear. “And I even have a surprise.” Without waiting for him to comment, she continued, “I made pudding for dessert.”
“Goodness, that’s a rare treat. I haven’t had pudding in…” He pondered a moment. “Not in over a year at least.”
“Oh, and thank you again for the tin of Sanka.” She smiled at him over her shoulder as she scooped grounds into the pot. “I was getting a little tired of Postum.”
“Treat it like gold. Mr. Hughes was so impressed with my work that he gave the ‘little bonus.’ I was more excited than if he’d given me an extra ten dollars.”
She nodded. “I just wish I had real milk. I’ve gotten used to the powered kind, but still, it’s almost a sin to put it in a cup of real brewed coffee.”
“Have you tried drinking it black?”
“Black? Not lately. Maybe I will tonight.”
After she set two bowls of soup on the table and a plate with cornbread, he held her chair and then joined her at the table to bless the food and eat. It took only twenty minutes to finish, but he felt he’d monopolized the conversation. When Hannah stood and began gathering dishes, he joined her in the kitchen to wash the few items while she dried and put them away.
“With that chore finished, why don’t you relax in the living room while I turn the coffee on to perk? I’ll be in shortly.”
John sank down on the couch, stretched out his long legs, and flexed his ankle to relieve a slight cramp in his calf from being crammed into a tight cockpit to see for himself just how much r
oom the design allowed the pilot. There had to be a way to allow at least a few more inches…
No, he needed to forget work for now. “Tell me about your day,” he said aloud. “I did all the talking during dinner.”
She turned and leaned against the kitchen counter, waiting while the coffee brewed. “I find your job more fascinating than mine—especially all the stories about Mr. Hughes. Of course, I hear stories about him down at Paramount, but they’re about upcoming movies or which leading lady he’s dating now. He leads such a varied and interesting life.”
John respected his boss’ brilliance and business sense, but as far as his personal life outside the plant, the man didn’t appear to be very faithful. He wined and dined different ladies as if he couldn’t make up his mind, or maybe he didn’t want to be shackled to only one.
That definitely wasn’t what John wanted out of life. He wanted…well, that remained to be seen.
He glanced up when Hannah set the two cups on the coffee table and sat in the chair to his side. This evening, she’d changed into slacks and a white, tailored blouse, reminding him of Katharine Hepburn and making her look slender and taller than usual, even though she stood no more than a few inches over five feet.
She slipped off her shoes and propped her feet on the rungs under the coffee table. He could see red polish on her toenails, giving his stomach an odd, jumbled feeling—as if he’d peeked into her bedroom. He now knew something personal that the rest of the world didn’t know. To hide his discomfort, he reached for the coffee and sipped in silence, fighting an urge to ask her to move to the couch and join him.
No. That would put temptation within arm’s reach. Too close.
“As for how my day went, it was much the same. They’re still working on The Trail of the Lonesome Pine with Henry Fonda, Fred MacMurray, and Sylvia Sidney, but I’d only get to do her hair in an emergency. I did Beulah Bondi’s make-up once, but, of course, I usually do the extras.” She lowered her gaze to the coffee, her lips drooping just before she sipped the hot brew.
“Hannah, you’re young and just starting out. I’m sure you’ll become well-known and sought-after in time.”
A thought darted through his mind that stopped his next sentence before it could be spoken. If he casually mentioned her to Mr. Hughes and where she worked, he might see to it she got the chance to realize her dream.
And then it slammed into him—he had just considered doing exactly what he hadn’t wanted Vince to do for him. Interfere.
No, he’d keep his mouth shut. If she was good enough to rise to the top, she’d know she was there on her own effort. He wouldn’t sneak around behind her back.
A gentle smile touched her lips before she lifted her gaze to meet his. “You’re sweet. But that wasn’t what was making me feel a little melancholy. I was thinking about my mother and how she was robbed of having the chance to live out her dream, see me married some day, and eventually see her grandchildren. She’ll miss out on so much.”
He found it difficult to understand women. Their emotions were so much more tender and so much closer to the surface. Dealing with a sad woman was like walking through a field riddled with land mines—an explosion could occur at any step.
The best plan of action was to remain quiet, but he couldn’t stop himself from leaning over to place a hand on her arm. A simple touch always seemed to make his mother feel better.
Her skin felt chilled under his hand. Before he thought, he slid it down to clasp hers and tug. “Why don’t you come over here and sit with me. You’re cold.”
Hannah remained motionless for several moments, her brows tightened in a slight frown. Then she stood, pulling her hand from under his. She remained standing, staring down into his upturned face, and then walked around the coffee table to ease down beside him on the sofa.
His heart pounded like a carpenter’s hammer. Was she really going to allow him to provide comfort and warmth? Blood rushed past his ears, drowning out the soft music currently playing on the radio. His breath caught behind the blockage in his throat, and he swallowed several times. This was a pivotal moment—a moment he hadn’t prepared for.
She sat next to him, yet remained at least a foot away. Did he dare push her to move a little closer? He reached out, grasped her hand, and tugged gently. After a hesitation and a glance from under long lashes, she scooted a few inches closer. That’s all the encouragement he needed. He moved the rest of the way until his arm pressed up against hers. Then he squeezed her hand and reached over to run a finger along her knuckle’s bumpy ridges and valleys.
“You’re very beautiful. Especially when you’re embarrassed,” he added, chuckling even as he held firm when she inched away. “Hey, don’t go. I was only teasing and hoping to lighten the mood.” He wove his fingers between hers, meshing their palms together, then sent up a silent thanks when her shoulders sagged and she leaned against him.
“I guess I don’t take teasing well,” she admitted, glancing at him before quickly looking away to pick at a thread on her slacks. “My mother and I laughed a lot, but there wasn’t much joking around. I guess life—just existing—was too much of a struggle to leave time for that.”
“With the ongoing depression, I know a lot of people have lost everything. I probably didn’t think as much about it because I was busy studying at college.”
“From what I hear, it’s tougher in some areas of the country than others, but no one has escaped the impact. At least we can have meat once in a while, even if it’s outrageously expensive, but things are looking a little better each month. At least according to the radio news reports.”
“True. We’re very fortunate to have jobs so we can afford the basics.”
“When they’re available,” she added with a quick smile.
He opened his hand, putting their palms together. She was tiny as a minute by comparison. It suddenly sent thoughts of protecting her flashing through his mind, which sent thoughts of Vince trailing close behind. Again, he regretted the agreement to keep the don informed on how she was doing.
Well, that wasn’t going to happen, so it was better not to think about it.
“My mother always said things would get better, that America always rises to the occasion and does whatever is necessary—like during the recent world war.” Her gaze remained on their hands. “Never forget the Lusitania,” she murmured.
“No, I don’t think anyone ever will. At least I know I won’t. I just wish it hadn’t taken the death of so many people to motivate America to get involved in the battle. Anyway, your mother must have been a wise woman.”
Hannah nodded. “I miss her. She was always preaching to me about women’s rights, and how the suffrage movement was a vital step in gaining equality with men, but she refused several offers to speak at public meetings on behalf of the cause.” She glanced toward him before she continued, “I think that’s why I enjoy having you here in the evening. We can talk about anything—even political events. Also…”
She began to pull her hand from his, but he tightened his grip. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Um, well, I need to admit something that I—that is a bit embarrassing. I hope you won’t hate me for it.” She kept her chin lowered, refusing to meet his gaze.
“Tell me.” He made sure his voice was gentle, but firm. He needed to know what was troubling her.
“Oh, it’s nothing, really, but…”
He tugged gently on her hand in encouragement.
“Okay. There’s this guy at work—one of the lighting technicians—who took me to a show once and dinner once, but now he keeps asking me to go out with him, and he’s beginning to make me feel uneasy. I keep saying no, but he’s persistent. Yesterday, I told him I’m seeing someone else. You,” she added after a hesitation. She glanced up at him from beneath her lashes before jerking her gaze away.
She told someone—someone who apparently isn’t taking no for an answer—that she’s dating me?
How was he supposed t
o feel about this new wrinkle? He stared at the beautiful woman who had instantly caught his attention the day he arrived. Okay, so the guy now thought he was Hannah’s guy.
Good.
“What did he say about your announcement?”
“Not much. He just asked who you were and if I’ve known you for very long, but I didn’t tell him anything. It’s none of his business.”
John nodded, but a thought nagged. Just the thought of some other guy paying attention to Hannah made his jaws clench. Jealousy?
No. Well, maybe.
But still, something was making him want to tell the guy to shove off and leave her alone.
Admit it, you’re falling for her.
That thought brought his mind skidding to an abrupt halt.
Really?
The more he thought about it, the more sense it made. Still wanting to deny the dawning truth, he mentally argued with himself. His plans hadn’t included coming to care about Hannah, and definitely didn’t include him falling in love with her, despite the first jolt he’d felt when he looked into her eyes several weeks earlier.
“John?”
“Hmm?” He blinked and then focused on those eyes—eyes narrowed by a frown. “Oh, sorry, I was just thinking about the guy. What’s his name?”
“Eddie Stone. He’s harmless, just a nuisance.”
“Well, let me know if he keeps bothering you.”
“Why?” she asked, chuckling. “Will you go rough him up and tell him to stay away?”
“Something like that,” he replied, laughing along with her, but more serious than he’d been in his life.
If this man meant her any harm, he’d go to the mat to stand between her and danger. If she only knew what he was capable of—what Vince had taught him about self-defense and what he’d learned about wrestling and boxing while at college. She’d probably be frightened enough to tell him to leave. His fighting abilities were also something he’d kept from his mother, and something else he’d need to keep from Hannah.
Which brought his mind full-circle. Although he’d never actually lied to her, he hated how he was becoming a pro at skirting around the truth.
When Truth Takes Flight Page 6