The Hamilton Heir (10 page)

Because I know there’s more to life than work,
she answered easily.
There’s joy. And peace. And the love of the Lord that makes everything the best that it can be.

That was what she wanted to share with Tim. Most of the other members of his family seemed to understand the power of faith, especially since the onset of Wallace’s catastrophic illness. Sometimes it took a terrible thing like that to strengthen a person’s faith, assuming there was a glimmer of belief present in the first place.

That was the key, she concluded. And that was her fear. If Tim didn’t believe to start with, there was nothing she could do to open his mind to the possibility that God loved him.

Such things were not up to her, nor to anyone else. If Tim was to be reached, to be comforted, to be brought into the family of God, the call would have to come from her Heavenly Father. All she could do was continue to pray for Tim and try to set a good example. Beyond that, she was powerless.

Still speaking, Tim introduced a chaplain who stood to lead a group blessing on the meal.

Dawn bowed her head with the others but surreptitiously watched Tim. He seemed to be participating in the prayer. That was a good sign. Now, if she could just get him to loosen up and attend church with her, she’d be happy.

That selfish thought settled in her heart like a jagged stone. It wasn’t about
her,
it was about
him.
If she truly cared for Tim, and she knew she did, she’d be praying for his personal well-being and happiness, not thinking about what she wanted for herself.

Penitent, Dawn closed her eyes and fought the tears welling behind her lashes. To love, to really love, was to put the other person first. Always. Without reservation.

Such altruism went against human nature but she knew she had to try. For Tim’s sake. And her own. Because, in spite of everything, she’d apparently fallen for him.

A
s the dinner got underway, Dawn saw that many of her fears had been groundless. She hadn’t tripped or spilled anything and there was little chance she’d accidentally use the wrong fork. The crystal and cutlery were arranged in a logical progression according to need and the only thing confusing was which of the napkins folded into rosettes and tucked into the coffee cups between each place setting was hers. She’d solved that mystery by simply watching which side Tim took his napkin from and following suit.

She was enjoying the salad course immensely until she bit into a rubbery-textured tidbit and looked more closely at the tossed baby greens as she swallowed that mouthful.
Calamari!
Somebody had spiked her salad with squid tentacles!
Ugh.
So much for haute cuisine. She loved seafood in general but definitely drew the line at eating suction cups.

Eyeing Tim, who was not paying the slightest attention to her, she pushed her salad plate away, folded her hands in her lap and waited for the next culinary surprise. Someday, when they were in a more relaxed atmosphere, maybe she’d tell him how proud she was of herself for choking down the disgusting mouthful instead of looking for a graceful way to spit it out!

Tim was eating his own salad while listening to a nearby board member’s opinion on stock options. He finally nodded, turned away from the man and smiled at Dawn. “Not hungry?”

“Not very.”

“Too much pizza?”

“I guess so.”

His mouth quirked in a half smile as he poked through his salad with his fork. “Wish I had some right now. I’m not fond of calamari.”

“Neither am I.”

Eyeing her rejected plate he immediately asked, “Want me to order you a different salad?”

“No.” Dawn shook her head emphatically. “Knowing you, I’d get every scrap of lettuce left in the kitchen—and then some.”

Tim chuckled. “I’m not that bad.”

“Well…” She was hoping her drawn-out comment would further amuse him and was pleased to see that it did.

“Okay. Maybe I am that bad. But you have to admit I get the job done.”

“That, you do.”

“Are you having a good time so far?”

Dawn smiled sweetly and leaned closer to speak privately. “Yes, except for making myself swallow that little tentacle I didn’t notice hiding in my salad till it was already in my mouth.”

She thought Tim was going to choke trying to contain his laughter. He pressed his linen napkin to his lips and coughed into it. “You didn’t see it first?”

“Nope.”

“It
is
considered a delicacy.”

Dawn huffed. “To some people, maybe.” She cupped her hand at the side of her mouth to be sure her next comment reached Tim’s ears only. “Personally, I’d rather suck the brains out of a boiled crawdad.”

That did it. His ears turned red, his eyes widened and moments later he exploded into laughter, muted only by his napkin.

Beside him, Dawn resumed her earlier demure pose, hands in her lap, eyes downcast. She was glad the tablecloth hid her hands from view because she’d had to make fists and press her nails into her palms to keep from laughing along with Tim.

This might have started out like every other stuffy stockholders’ dinner he’d ever attended but she imagined this particular evening would stand out in his memory for a very long time. It certainly wasn’t a night she’d soon forget.

Penitent, she finally reached to pat him on the back as if she thought he’d choked. There were tears in his eyes and his face was flushed. The coughing lessened. She smiled. “You okay now?”

Tim managed to nod.

“Good.” Her smile grew. Her blue eyes sparkled with repressed mischief. “I wasn’t kidding, you know. That is how we eat them in Louisiana.”

He nodded again and rasped, “I know. That’s what made it so funny.”

By the time dessert was served, Tim had had many chances to observe Dawn’s interaction with their dinner companions. Now that she’d relaxed and was being herself, she was charming everyone around them. She had the same rapport with these people as she’d had with Stuart Meyers, Ada Smith and the others on her meals-on-wheels route.

Perhaps that was the key to her success, Tim reasoned. She didn’t discriminate in either direction. Except in his case, he added, chagrined. When it came to money, especially
Hamilton
money, Dawn was definitely biased in the negative. He supposed that was to be expected, since her job as his executive assistant did require a status separation of sorts. Knowing he couldn’t be everybody’s buddy and still run the company successfully, she had never tried to cross that invisible line. Therefore, it made perfect sense for her to be hesitant to drop their normal office barriers, even in a social situation like this.

It had occurred to him, more than once, that he might have made a serious mistake by inviting her to accompany him and share his standing at the
stockholders gala. The decision had been a well-thought-out one but he continued to have misgivings.

It wasn’t that he didn’t think Dawn belonged wherever she wanted to be. On the contrary, she was holding her own quite admirably. His worry was that getting too familiar with her might harm their exemplary professional relationship.

Tim cleared his throat and watched her with pride. She was a real gem, an asset to his new position, a good right hand to his left. That was the key. They worked together so well they were less like a team than a single entity and he didn’t want to lose that edge.

So why had he asked her to accompany him and taken a chance on destroying the working association they’d built? Because he truly enjoyed her company, he admitted. Being with Dawn, listening to her views on life, seeing the way she enjoyed everything so fully, made him feel lighthearted when little else did. He didn’t know if she purposely attempted to lift his spirits but that was certainly the result. A person like that—a
woman
like that—was a rare delight. When the family crises were over and the company was on a firmer footing, maybe he’d make an effort to see more of her.

That notion amused Tim. He
saw
Dawn every day in a literal sense. And, in truth, he looked forward to it more all the time. He’d always loved going to work but her presence there made him feel
so good he’d found himself sticking his head out of his office and asking her unnecessary questions just to hear her voice and see her smile. She was…

The depth of his musings brought Tim up short. He was beginning to think like a lovesick teenager—like his sister, Melissa, who was the most mixed-up one of them all. Just because Heather had found her dream man in Ethan Danes, Chris was smitten with Felicity Simmons, and Amy had decided to give Bryan Healey another chance, didn’t mean all the Hamiltons were ready to settle down. He was only thirty-three. He had plenty of time to find a mate, assuming he wanted one.

Dawn glanced up and caught him staring. “What?”

“Nothing.” Tim could feel his cheeks warming. “How’s the cheesecake?”

“Delicious.” She chuckled softly and whispered, “Not a tentacle in sight. This time, I checked.”

“Good for you. I see you’re learning.”

“How about yours?” Dawn asked with a slight nod toward his dessert. “Don’t you like cheesecake?”

“It’s okay.” Tim wasn’t about to admit he’d been so involved in daydreaming about her he’d forgotten to eat. “I haven’t touched it. Would you like it?”

“Umm. I am tempted.” She smiled at him and he felt it all the way from the nape of his neck to his toes. “But I think one serving is enough. As short as I am, I don’t have a lot of extra room.”

“How tall are you?” he asked, mostly to distract himself.

“Five foot three in my bare feet. Much taller in these shoes.” She eyed him studiously. “Heather says you’re six feet even.”

“Yes. Guess I take after Dad.”

“I didn’t want to ask about him and spoil your mood, but since you’ve brought it up, how is Wallace doing lately? Do you think he’ll be coming home soon?”

“I hope so, especially for my mother’s sake. She’s beginning to look as weary as he does.”

“I know. It’s really nice of you to take Nora to lunch the way you do.” Dawn paused, frowning. “Why didn’t you bring her to this dinner tonight instead of me?”

Not wanting to admit he’d never seriously considered asking his mother, Tim took a slow sip of his after-dinner coffee to buy time to think before answering. “She wouldn’t have wanted to come to something like this without Dad, especially since they’ve always attended as a couple. They’ve been together for so long they’re practically inseparable. Besides, I know she’d have worried about making him feel left out if she’d come.”

“My parents are codependent like that in some ways, although my father does go deep-sea fishing without Mom.” Dawn sobered. “Lately, she hardly ever goes out because of taking care of my brother, Phil.”

“You need to convince her to take some time off.
That’s one of the reasons I encourage my mother to go to lunch with me or Heather or the others whenever we’re free. Taking breaks is good for her, physically and emotionally.”

Dawn was staring at him. Tim frowned. “What?”

A smile started to lift the corners of her mouth and Tim couldn’t help noting for the zillionth time how lovely she looked.

“Who are you and what have you done with my boss?”

“I don’t understand.”

“You can’t possibly be Timothy Hamilton,” she said with a widening grin. “You just recommended somebody taking time off work. You must be an imposter.”

Dawn was so burned-out by the time all the post-dinner speeches, stock market presentations and drawn-out goodbyes were over, she could hardly keep her eyes open during the drive home. Tim seemed to be holding up a lot better than she was, but then he was used to the kind of stressful evening they’d just spent.

“Sleepy?” he asked.

“Um-hum. I feel like I just ran a marathon.”

“Do your feet hurt? I notice you took your shoes off.”

“Not until I got to the car. I didn’t figure you’d be too happy if I left the restaurant carrying them like some hillbilly.”

“You can’t be a hillbilly,” Tim teased. “You’re from
the bayous down South.” He chuckled. “I thought I’d die laughing when you started talking about how to eat crawdads. I nearly strangled as it was.”

Dawn laughed in spite of her weariness. “You should have seen the look on your face! It was priceless.”

“You didn’t look very good right after you discovered that tentacle, either.”

“I was feeling about as green as the lettuce.”

“Did you have a good time otherwise?”

“Well, yes, I guess I did,” she answered, mildly surprised to realize how true it was. “All that smiling and ultrapolite behavior sure tired me out, though.”

“You did a great job.”

“Thanks. I’m glad I lived up to expectations so you didn’t feel you’d wasted your money on this dress.” She gifted him with a tender smile. “You weren’t so bad yourself. I guess we made a pretty fair team, huh?”

“I’ve been thinking about
us,
” Tim said, pausing.

Dawn’s heart did a little jig and bounced into her throat. “Us?” The one-word question came out sounding like the squawk of a chicken with its head caught between the slats of a picket fence.

“I mean, we work well together.”

“Oh, that. Yes, I guess we do.”

“In case I haven’t told you lately,” Tim said, “I really appreciate all your hard work on behalf of Hamilton Media.”

I love you, too,
her subconscious offered. “Thanks. I do my best.”

“I wouldn’t want to lose you.”

Just try it, mister.
“I’m perfectly happy where I am.”

“Good. I need an accomplished assistant like you.”

What you need is a poke in the ribs with a sharp stick to wake you up, you dummy. Can’t you see I’m crazy about you?
She said, “I enjoy the challenge, Mr. Hamilton.”

“I thought you were going to call me, Tim?”

You don’t want to hear what I’d like to call you right now,
she thought, immediately penitent. The poor guy was trying to be nice, to give her compliments on her work ethic which was the most important thing in the world to him, and she wasn’t a bit grateful. Well, that couldn’t be helped. She’d stupidly fallen for her boss and now she was going to be stuck for who-knows-how-long, trying to keep up the pretense that nothing had changed between them.

“I don’t know that it’s a good idea for me to call you Tim when we’re at the office,” Dawn finally said. “It seems awfully personal.”

He reached over and laid his warm hand atop hers where it rested on the leather upholstery. “After your performance tonight, I think you’ve earned it.”

Dawn felt as if her hand was afire and her arm was slowly melting, bones and all, like a candle lying too close to a hot oven.

Oh, fine,
she thought, giving free rein to her imagination.
There goes my secretarial career. How
am I going to type if my arm melts off and I’m left with only five usable fingers?

She snickered.

Tim pulled away.

“Sorry,” she said. “I wasn’t laughing at you. I get giddy when I’m overtired. Gabi and I got the giggles one night and were so hysterical we didn’t stop laughing till we both had tears running down our cheeks.”

“You don’t feel one of those fits coming on right now, do you?”

“Don’t worry,” Dawn said with a shake of her head. “If I do, I’ll just dump all those extra hairbrushes out of the bag and stuff my head into it till the urge passes.”

Tim’s incredulous expression was so funny she did start to chuckle. Clearly, he didn’t know how to take her. Well, he wasn’t the only befuddled one. She had no idea how to go about getting him to see her as anything but a capable executive assistant—or whether she wanted to try.

He was right about their great working relationship. It was admirable. The question was, what was more important in the grand scheme of things: work or life?

Tim could never answer that because his outlook didn’t separate the two, Dawn reminded herself.