Authors: Nancy Hopper
There was a righteous, determined fire in his eyes as he walked carefully back across the icy parking lot to the hotel.
When he reached his room, he was decidedly chilled and extremely out of sorts. He picked up the phone book and looked in the directory for a listing for Tasha. He stifled a sigh as it became clear that he wouldn't find one. He dialed the hotel’s main desk. "I need a local phone number immediately." He told the receptionist.
"Did you try the phone book?" the lady asked impersonally.
"I did, it's not there."
"Then, it must be unlisted." She said regretfully.
"She's a regular here, and it is very important." Tim insisted softly.
"What is the name?" the lady asked warily.
"Tasha Charles. Taylor?"
"Oh. Ms. Taylor, yes." The receptionist said uneasily.
"You know the lady?" Tim asked with interest.
"Yes."
"Can you get me her phone number? It is extremely important to me. I just want to be sure she got home safe. You know, it's very icy and I didn't get her number. We spent the evening together, and I'm terribly concerned. Please, will you help me?"
"I am very sorry, sir, I can't do that." The receptionist answered immediately.
"Okay. Thanks." Tim snapped. Then he got an idea. He'd taken Tasha right past the front desk on their way out to her car tonight. He grabbed his key, and went out to the elevator.
The receptionist looked up and smiled when she saw the handsome man approaching. "May I help you?" she asked lightly. She'd seen him come in and out over the past day or so. Tonight, he'd definitely been with Tasha Taylor.
"Hi. Yes. I just talked to you on the phone. Listen, I know that you can't give me her number, I understand. But you saw us together tonight, right? I just took her out to her car a few minutes ago. You were here."
The girl stared at him suspiciously.
"I almost remember the number, it's 368 ... something eleven." He said, with entreaty in his clear eyes. "Will you do me a favor and call her number? Just ask Lucinda, the housekeeper, if Tasha made it home all right? She should be home just about now. Please, will you do this for me? I'll take full responsibility and Tasha will not be angry with you. I am just very concerned for her safety. Please?"
The girl wilted. Who could resist a man like this one? He was handsome, and obviously as sweet and honest as they come. She'd seen Tasha with him; and if he knew the name of their housekeeper, he must be all right. But if he wasn’t, she was a cooked goose. She pressed her lips together, and looked at him uncertainly.
"She sometimes does business with us. I'll look in the computer and see if the manager has her number." The receptionist hedged uncertainly.
The smile Tim gave her made the effort definitely worth the risk. The young girl just about melted in her shoes. "Thanks." He said softly.
She looked up the number in the local customer directory on their computer and found Brent Charles' number. It was in fact 368-3211. He had almost the whole number correctly memorized.
But -- it was late. Looking up into his expectant eyes, she wavered. "Sir, it's late." She protested weakly.
"I know. It'll be all right. Tasha just left, and the housekeeper will be waiting up." He assured her gently.
The girl shrugged, and picked up the phone. She figured she could lose her job, but something told her it would be all right. As the phone rang, she felt like an idiot. A woman answered.
"Is Lucinda there?" the receptionist asked uncertainly.
"This is she." Lucinda confirmed worriedly.
"Ma'am, this is the Cedars Hotel. There is a gentleman here asking me to place a call to you. His name is Timothy Rain." She provided, as Tim handed her a card.
"Oh! Mr. Timothy! Please, put him on." Lucinda urged immediately.
"Yes, Ma'am." The receptionist agreed with evident relief. She handed the phone to Tim.
"Lucy?" he said softly.
"Mr. Timothy, yes!" she answered exuberantly.
“
I just called to make sure Tasha got home all right. I was concerned about her driving in the cold, I knew that it had to be icy. And I forgot your number."
"Oh, Mr. Tim. It is 368-3211. And she just came in. Everything appears to be fine." Lucinda assured him. "Would you like to speak to her?"
"No, that's not necessary, Lucinda. Just so long as she's fine. Don't disturb her, I'll be seeing her tomorrow."
"All right then, Mr. Timothy. Good night."
"Good night. Thanks, Lucy." He said warmly, and hung up the phone.
After giving his profuse thanks to the receptionist, he went back upstairs, and wrote the number down in his address book. Then, he ran a hot bath and got down to the business of prayer for Tasha and for the coming day. He went to bed much later that night, with peace in his heart about the situation.
The second day of the conference dawned clear and very cold. Tim was still sound asleep when his phone rang at ten past noon. Groaning, he rolled over and reached for it. "Hello." He said sleepily.
"Tim, you're still asleep?" an enthusiastic voice hammered in his ear. "Man, we've been skiing all morning, and it's great out here! Come on! We kept waiting for you to come out, it's awesome!"
Tim groaned. "No thanks, Reuben. Not today. I'm too tired. I think I'll just take another hot bath and do some prayer time."
"Oh, man." His friend sighed, obviously disappointed. "Okay; guess we'll see you tonight then, huh?"
"Yeah. Thanks." Tim yawned, and hung up the phone. He rolled over and sighed, looking up at the ceiling.
His first thoughts were of Tasha and the disaster he'd made of the previous evening. He wondered if her promise to come would be enough to draw her back to the conference. Then he rebuked himself; hadn't he already prayed in faith that it would be so?
Mentally, he called it done, and got on with his day. He didn't give himself any room for thoughts about her until it was almost time for the evening service. Then, he called Jim at the conference registration desk.
"Hey, Jim." He said, grateful it hadn't been someone else who answered. "Who is doing the door tonight?"
"It'll be me, Tim. What's up?"
"Do you remember the lady I brought with me last night, Tasha Taylor?"
"Absolutely." Jim chuckled.
His answer peeved Tim a bit. "Yeah. Well, if she makes it here tonight, please let her in. In fact, please just arrange a seat for her with me for the rest of the conference, and expect her. I'm certain she'll get here. And don't let her know I called. It's kind of touchy right now, and it might make her mad."
Jim chuckled at the worried note in Tim's voice. "All right, Mr. Rain, we'll make her feel at home. Leave it to me."
"Thanks, Jim. And one more favor; will you get her a parking space in the garage? We just about broke our necks in the parking lot last night."
"No problem, Tim. Just have her use one of our reserved spots on row K. What's she drive?"
"Brand new black Ford Bronco with black interior, and custom wheels. "Thanks, Jim. I really appreciate it."
“
No sweat, Tim. See ya in a few."
Tim showed up downstairs for the conference, with hope and confidence in his eyes. He scanned the auditorium, but she wasn't there. A finger of doubt began to rise up, and he dismissed it severely.
"She'll be here." He said boldly. Then, he went on about his business. But he couldn't help feeling dismay when worship ended and the chair beside him was still empty. He was introduced and went up to do the message, with a bit of a heavy heart.
Tasha had meanwhile been edgy, and very aware that she was breaking a promise, tonight. She could never remember doing that before. As she sat down to dinner, she could hardly settle herself down to eat.
Strangely, Lucinda seemed as upset as she was. She finally put her napkin down, and stared at her. "Lucinda, what is the matter with you?" she insisted, gently but firmly.
"Oh! Nothing, Miss Tasha. Nothing."
"What is it?"
"Please, Miss Tasha. I don't want to interfere."
"What do you mean?" Tasha insisted.
"Well, it's just that you did not see Mr. Tim today?"
"No, of course not. Why would I?"
"Well; I am just worried about him. You know, when he called last night, he said he would see you today. I thought he would come, you know. I am very worried for him. He is the kind of man to do what he says. But it's getting quite late, now, and he has not come!"
"What?" Tasha asked incredulously. "Tim Rain said he was coming here?"
"Well; he said he would see you today."
"When exactly was this?" Tasha asked irritably.
"When he called last night." Lucinda cowered.
"Tim Rain called here last night? When? Why didn't you tell me?" Tasha growled.
"It was just after you came home, he -- he didn't want me to disturb you. He said he just wanted to be certain you had made it safely home, and he said that he didn't need to speak to you, as he would be seeing you today. But of course, he has not."
Tasha closed her eyes, as her conscience smote her. Darn Timothy, he certainly had a way of intruding upon her peace! She looked up at Lucinda, and tried to smile. "Well, I did sort of promise him that I'd go to his conference."
"Oh." Lucinda said with relief. "Then you'll be in a hurry to go?"
"No. I don't think I will." Tasha denied stiffly.
Lucinda gave her a hollow, wide-eyed look that made her want to crawl under the table. She simply could not stand the look in Lucinda's eyes.
"All right. All right, Lucinda, you can stop looking at me like that. I will go." She said hotly.
Tears flooded Lucinda's eyes. "Thank you, Miss Tasha. I could not fathom you breaking a promise. Especially to someone like Mr. Timothy."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Tasha asked sharply. "Has he got you charmed and eating out of his hand, too?"
Lucinda's eyes softened. Tasha didn't even realize what she'd implied about herself, in that statement. "I think that he is yes, very charming. And very trustworthy, and handsome, and delightful altogether. He is wonderful!"
Tasha snorted, and stood up. "Whatever. Thank you for a lovely dinner. Children, let's put in a movie."
Tasha appeared at the conference registration desk not long after the music ended. She could hear Tim's voice over the PA and knew she wouldn't have to face him. He was already on the stage.
"Hi. My name is Tasha Taylor. I was invited by Tim Rain." She said lightly.
“
Yes, Ma'am. Mr. Rain also wanted you to have a parking spot this week, in the garage. Feel free to park in any one of the reserved spots on row K. Could I just have your license plate number so you don't get towed away?"
Tasha gave the man the information, and then slipped into the Ballroom, hopefully unnoticed. She found a pillar to lean against, and kept her burgundy coat and hat on, for anonymity. She hadn't failed to see that woman reporter lurking in the coffee shop the night before, paying rapt attention to her and her escort.
She stuffed her hands in her pockets, and forced herself to look up at Timothy. My, but he was a handsome thing! It struck her anew how very handsome he was. And he was definitely on fire, tonight.