Authors: Rachel Ann Nunes
“I know, it
sounds
fast,
but everything just fell into place. Like the answer was in front of me the whole time.” He frowned. “But she . . . I think she’s scared.”
“Of course she’s scared. You’ve known her for less than a week!”
Damon leaned forward, his amber eyes intense. “I feel like I’ve known her much longer. I know she feels the same way, but when I tried to discuss it with her, she said she wasn’t ready. I need to find out how to help her be ready.”
“This is not one of your business deals, Damon,” Rebekka said, allowing a hint of anger to show in her voice. “You can’t
make
someone feel something.” Heaven knew she’d tried. “Just give her some time. She already knows what a wonderful father you are. Give her a chance to see that it’s real, not just an act.”
Damon sighed. “I know. It’s just that I’m afraid of losing her. She’s been dating someone else. A cop—younger than she is. Too young, if you ask me.”
Rebekka had heard enough. She didn’t need to sit here and have her youth wielded against her like a sword. “Look, I have work to do. That’s what you’re paying me for.”
He grinned. “Thanks for listening.”
“You’re welcome.” And then, because she really was happy for Damon despite her own pain, she added, “Why don’t you find out what kind of a relationship she had with her husband? Maybe that will shed some light on why she reacted the way she did last night. If she was totally in love with him or if they didn’t get along, that might help you understand her better.” Raising a hand in farewell, she ignored her impulse to have a good cry in the rest room, and went instead to her cubicle and buried herself in her work. When the phone rang an hour later, she almost didn’t hear it.
“Hello, Rebekka with two Ks,” said a familiar voice.
“Samuel.” She was glad to hear from him.
“Hey, I’ve been thinking. Why don’t you come out here and take a peek at our setup? That way you can make an informed decision. If you work for Corban International, you’ll have your own private office—a nice one with a great view of the city—a nearby park for lunch, great restaurants. Come and check it out. You could fly out here for a day or two, and be back there by the weekend.”
Before Damon’s announcement, Rebekka wouldn’t have considered picking up and leaving so abruptly, if only for a few days. But now she found herself wanting to leave Utah. “I don’t know,” she stalled.
“You can work here just as well as there,” Samuel urged. “I even bought you a plane ticket.”
“Excuse me?”
“For tomorrow. But don’t worry, it’s exchangeable.”
“I can’t just pick up and leave with no warning.”
He must have sensed that her voice lacked conviction. “Why not? The project needs you here.” His voice deepened almost imperceptibly. “
I
need you here. I can talk to Damon if you’d like.”
“No.” Rebekka knew that Damon would say yes, if only to soothe his conscience. But Rebekka didn’t trust herself around Samuel. There was a spark between them that threatened to burst into flame, but would it be enough? Despite her continued disappointments with men, she didn’t want her parents’ relationship.
“Think about it.” Samuel’s voice was persuasive.
“Okay. I’ll let you know.” Rebekka hung up and went back to work. Of course she wouldn’t go to Cincinnati tomorrow, even if she decided to accept Samuel’s job offer. It was too soon, and she needed time to think.
An hour later, Juliet came in with a large bouquet of fresh flowers. “A company just delivered them,” she said, setting the vase on the desk.
“Who would send me flowers?” Rebekka touched the petals of a daisy.
“There’s a card,” Juliet pointed out.
Rebekka slipped a short fingernail under the flap and read the note:
Did you decide yet?
She smiled.
“Well?” asked Juliet.
“They’re from Samuel.”
Juliet grinned. “I knew he liked you. I knew it! That is one good-looking man.” She frowned. “Too bad he’s not a member.” Juliet knew how important that was to Rebekka. “But maybe he could take the discussions.”
“His parents are very active in another religion, and I think Samuel is happy where he’s at. He told me as much himself.”
Juliet looked away from Rebekka and at the flowers. She sighed enviously. “Well, he sure is romantic.”
Rebekka gazed at the flowers, seeing instead Samuel’s handsome face. “Yes, he is.”
She tried to return to work, but couldn’t seem to concentrate. She kept thinking about Samuel’s offer and Damon’s attraction for Mickelle. The more she thought about it, the angrier she became. Why couldn’t Samuel be a member, when he seemed so perfect in every other way? Why couldn’t Damon have fallen in love with her, and she with him? Rebekka slammed her fist against the padded armrest of her chair. Darn it all! Acting on her anger wouldn’t solve anything, but it made her feel better.
Her phone rang again and she picked it up, sure it was Samuel. “Rebekka?” It was Juliet. “There’s someone out here to see you. Are you free?” The way the receptionist’s voice quivered, Rebekka knew it was probably a man.
“Who is it?”
Juliet hesitated. “He wants to surprise you . . . I think.”
Samuel!
Why wouldn’t he give her time? And how did he get here so quickly?
He must have been in Salt Lake when he called the first time.
“Okay. Send him back.”
Rebekka looked around and saw that the other people who had cubicles in the conference room had gone to lunch. The words on her computer screen danced before her eyes as she tried to focus on them. She couldn’t decide if she was angry or excited that Samuel had come to visit.
She heard someone enter, but her back was to the door and she refused to look up. Hands closed over her eyes. “Samuel?” she asked.
“Wrong.” The voice spoke in French.
Rebekka jerked her head around in surprise. His dark hair was longer than she remembered, but each curve of his face was the same. His deep brown eyes locked onto hers as she greedily drank in his presence, his smell, his very being. Joy sang in her veins until she squelched it.
Those feelings are gone.
“You!” The anger she’d been holding in all day flared. She welcomed the emotion, allowed it to roll over her and through all her senses. Better to feel the anger than the terrible, hurtful gladness at seeing him. “Why are you here?” she demanded.
Marc looked puzzled. “I came to visit. I thought you’d be glad.”
Glad to have my wounds ripped open? Glad to want nothing more than to follow you around like a puppy?
He raked his hand through his hair. “I’ve come to check out this man of yours.”
Rebekka stood stiffly. She desperately wanted to throw her arms around Marc, but instead she offered her cheeks almost gingerly to be kissed in the French custom. “It’s good to see you,” she managed.
“My parents send their love. And André.”
“What about my family? How are they?” The small talk was difficult for Rebekka, but she forced herself to act as though it was nothing out of the ordinary to have Marc fly thousands of miles to stop by. Once she would have been thrilled, but she was over that feeling. There was no more room for him in her broken heart.
Marc’s handsome face looked sheepish. “They were fine the last I saw them. I didn’t visit them before I left. I didn’t really tell anyone I was going, except for my family.”
“Are you here on business?”
“I just needed to get away. You seem like you’re having such a good time here. I thought maybe I’d come and . . .” His face grew worried. “Rebekka, is something wrong? You don’t seem very happy to see me.”
“I am happy to see you. Just a bit shocked, that’s all.” She glanced at her computer— anything not to look into his eyes. “I have a lot of work to do. I can’t take time off.” Actually, she could, but she didn’t
want
to be alone with Marc any more than necessary.
There was a sound at the door, and Rebekka saw Damon standing there. “Rebekka, can I talk to you for a minute?” he asked. “It can wait if you’re busy.”
Rebekka took Marc’s arm and propelled him to the door. “Damon, meet my old friend, Marc Perrault. He’s visiting from France and stopped by to see me. Marc, this is Damon. He’s the boss around here. Or one of them. The children I used to watch are his.”
Damon shook Marc’s hand. “Good to meet you. Did you just get in today?”
“No, I come last night,” Marc replied. Rebekka winced at the terrible accent, but Damon didn’t seem to notice. Marc’s language skills in French grammar were better than most, but he had never spoken English very well. “I stay at the hotel last night, and today I rent a car and come here.”
“That’s quite a long flight. How long will you be staying?”
“I am not sure.”
Damon smiled again, touching Rebekka’s arm lightly. “Everything’s okay, right?” he said softly, but not privately.
She knew that Damon was referring to their chat that morning, but Rebekka was all too aware of Marc’s presence. There was no way she wanted Marc to know that she and her employer were no longer “dating.” She slipped her arm around Damon’s waist and gave him a half-hug. “Yes, Damon. Thanks.” He put his arm around her shoulders and squeezed briefly, and then they both dropped their arms to their sides.
“I’ll come back a little later.” Damon looked at Marc. “Nice to meet you, Marc.”
Marc watched Damon’s retreating figure. Rebekka studied his expression, but couldn’t see even a hint of his emotions. “I thought you said in one of your e-mails that he was tall,” Marc finally said in French. “He’s only got an inch on me.”
“That was Samuel.”
Marc’s dark eyes turned on hers. “Samuel? How many men are you dating?”
“Just one right now.” She tried to laugh. “Is that why you’re here, to check up on me?”
Marc frowned. “Actually, yes. I wanted to make sure he’s a nice guy.”
“Well, he is, as you can see.” She smiled blandly, feeling ice in her heart. She knew Marc hadn’t come to profess his love; he had none in his heart for her. At least not the kind of love she’d once craved from him. In spite of his protestations to the contrary, she bet her parents had put him up to this little “visit.” A cold numbness enveloped her.
Suddenly Marc reached out and took both of her arms in his hands. Electricity seemed to flow between them. “Are you happy here?” His question was urgent.
She looked him squarely in the face, her pride and his hands the only things sustaining her. “Yes.”
He seemed to deflate somehow, as though he’d expected another answer. “I’m glad then.” His voice was almost a whisper.
He stepped away from her, and she teetered on weak knees. “I’ll let you get back to work. Maybe I can see you later.”
“Where are you staying?”
He hesitated in the doorway. “I don’t know yet. I’ll call you. I talked to Brionney on the phone, and she said you were staying with her. If you’re not home, I’ll leave a message.”
She watched him go, grateful that she felt nothing in her heart.
Love does die,
she thought.
I don’t love him anymore.
As the numbness gradually wore off, anger took its place.
How dare he come here! How dare he check up on me!
There were other emotions, too, but she didn’t care to examine them.
What she needed was to get away from everyone who knew her. She needed to start again, without memories from the past getting in the way and people checking up on her.
Cincinnati. Of course! That was the answer.
But Cincinnati meant Samuel. Could she go to Cincinnati and work with Samuel without dating him? She thought of his green eyes and his unveiled desire for her. No; if she went to Cincinnati something would develop between them, that much was certain. He would treat her like a queen. Would it be enough? She could fall in love with him easily—maybe not with the wholehearted emotion she’d once experienced for Marc, yet it would be love all the same. But once committed to him, would she regret the fact that they didn’t share the gospel? Could she live with the possibility that he might never accept what she believed to be an irrevocable truth?
“Better than being alone,” she whispered. “We could be happy. He’s a good man.” Her hand stole to the phone and dialed the cell number she had never called but had long since memorized. “Hi, Samuel?”
“Rebekka!” His voice sounded happy.
“I’ve decided to take you up on your offer. If it’s still open.”
“Yippee!”
“But what about an earlier flight?”
“Funny you should mention that. We had a few problems crop up here, and I talked to Damon about half an hour ago. He said he’d send someone today if we could find a flight. I didn’t mention you because . . . well, you know why. But I’d love it if you were the one he sent.” He paused. “I’m glad you decided to come, Rebekka. I don’t think you’ll regret it.”
“Neither do I.”
Feeling like she had finally started down the right path, Rebekka hung up the phone. Now she would zip home during lunch and pack a suitcase or two, then return to work until she left for the airport. Tonight she would be in Cincinnati with Samuel.
* * * * *
Marc stalked out to his rental car, feeling angry and alone. Seeing Rebekka had only added to his misery. She hadn’t been happy to see him at all. In fact, she had seemed angry at his intrusion. Watching her and Damon interact had been pure torture. Did the other man hold even a trace of the emotion Marc harbored for Rebekka in his heart? He didn’t think so.
Yet he couldn’t bring himself to confess his feelings for Rebekka now—not when she seemed so content with her life. He had no right, no right at all. She deserved happiness, and even though it hurt unbearably to let her go, he wouldn’t stop her from making a life with Damon.
He hung his head and wept.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Mickelle had finished weeding in the garden on Tuesday and was emerging from her shower when the doorbell rang. “Brionney,” she said, opening the door in her robe. “Come in.”