On 4/19 (On 4/19 and Beyond 4/20) (6 page)

His heart sank at her words. For a moment, he tried to recall the last time anyone was so brutally honest with him. Maybe Mark on occasion, but never to this level. Scanning the room, the shallowness of it all was just as evident to him, but that was nothing new. The depth of insincerity among those whom he most often associated with had been a source of disdain for quite some time. Finally, his lips formed into a slow smile as he assured her, “That’s a great start.” Feeling, though, as if he’d been hit below the belt, he asked, “Do you think I attempt to be forward-thinking?”

Blushing, she said, “No, not you.” While she could see that her words settled heavily upon him, they had not been intended as an indictment against him. “I think you live for the deal. I think your company is your mistress and your only passion. I have heard it in several of your conversations so far tonight.” Mocking him, she said in a deeper tone, “We still on, Barry? Got to strike while the iron is hot.” Certain she’d read him accurately, she added, “You couldn't care less about art or even what anyone thinks you think about art.”

John threw his head back and chuckled. He found Chelsea to be the best thing that had happened to him in a very long time. How refreshing to hear such honesty. If there was ever a season in his life when he needed more than yes men, it was now.

It was the first time she heard him really laugh, and when he did, several people turned around and stared at them. It was then she felt a little jealous of how one woman was gazing directly at him. Much more forward than what was typical for her, Chelsea reached for John’s arm and looped hers through his. Based on the way he smiled down at her when she did so, it was something he seemed entirely open to.

Delighted by her company, though suddenly not so much with the setting, he asked, “Have you eaten dinner?” It was just after eight, and
he’d failed to stop long enough to eat before having to meet her at seven. After all, he had made his appearance and made the rounds. There was no reason to prolong their time there.

“I had a late lunch, so I skipped dinner.”

“Want to get out of here?”

When he offered for her to choose the restaurant, John never expected they would end up in a burger joint. Even more than the burger, she wanted a milkshake. And in keeping his promise to her, he insisted she get the milkshake first, so technically she would have dessert first. Watching her eat, like a ranch hand without question, he was satisfied he could not have picked a better place himself. There she was in her lovely cocktail dress, shoes on the floor, and her bare feet curled beneath her in the booth. She made him smile, inside and out.

“This burger is the best.” Wiping her mouth, she realized he was watching her rather intently. “What?” Wiping her mouth again, she was sure she must have food all over her face.

“What happened last summer?”

His look was one she couldn’t read exactly. Somehow, she felt as if he was trying to look within her again. “What do you mean?”

“You said up until then you planned on a corporate job. What happened to change that?” With his question, he detected a notable change in her expression, maybe even a trace of sadness. There was a softening that he could not quite identify.

Pushing her plate away, sliding her shake near, she sipped on the straw for a second. When she finished the last of her shake, she told him, “I went on a mission trip, and it totally changed everything.”

“Where did you go?”

“Haiti.”

“Was that your first mission trip?”

Shaking her head, she tried to get Tuck’s image out of her mind as she said, “No. I’ve been on local trips, to the Appalachians. As much need as there is in the US, outside of our borders is totally unbelievable, like nothing I ever imagined.”

From there she proceeded to tell him the things she encountered there. He couldn’t help but notice how near she was to tears on more than one occasion. With that, he hoped he never had reason to see her actually cry. Her eyes were so large and expressive, he imagined such a sight would affect him deeply. Never had he known anyone with a kinder or gentler spirit than Chelsea. There was much more to her than what he first presumed; there was a deep intensity about her that startled him, affecting him at a level he didn’t normally think from.

When she ran out of stories to tell, they sat in a comfortable silence. Again Tuck’s image floated through Chelsea’s mind. How could she talk about the mission field without him coming to mind, without
them
coming to mind? It was where they were supposed to be together, missions and the farm. That was the plan anyway.

Noticing how far removed Chelsea seemed from him, he took that opportunity to study her, to try to understand her better. No matter how many times he thought he had her figured out, another layer was peeled back and he discovered something new about her, something that caused him to admire her even more. Suspecting there was much more yet to be revealed, he determined that spending more time together would accomplish just that, so after finishing his shake, he asked her, “Are you busy this weekend?”

“No.” Already she hoped he would invite her to dinner. Knowing such hope should frighten her, she ignored the warning in her mind to tread carefully.

“What time is your first class on Monday?”

“Monday is light; not until the afternoon.”

“Great. I have business in Vegas. Want to tag along?”

“Sounds good to me.” Quickly she rested her hands in her lap. No longer did she fear the implications of traveling with such a handsome man; instead, she felt a rush of excitement that set her hands to trembling. She hoped he hadn’t noticed.

When they walked out of the diner, a car was waiting for him there. He’d driven her car from the gallery, so she couldn’t figure out when he called for a car. Everything about him was such a mystery. Their worlds were so vastly different, yet being with him seemed unbelievably normal.
The term Irene used,
sugar daddy
, was exactly precise, at least from anyone else’s perspective, but when she was with him, it never felt that way, not dirty or inappropriate. To her, the night seemed like one of the best dates ever, magical even.

John opened her car door for her, and once she scooted into the driver’s seat, he squatted down to where he was eye level with her. “Thanks for such a great night. You’re fun to be with, Chelsea.”

“You, too.” Before he stood, she asked, “Best and worst? And you can’t say anything with us together. If you start that, we’ll always feel obligated to keep it up.”

“Okay. Let me think.” Studying for a minute, he said, “Best: finding someone who will be honest with me. Worst: buying a painting that I shouldn’t have.”

Laughing at him, she asked, “You bought something?”

“Before you arrived.”

“Next time, consult me. I’ll talk you out of it.”

“I’ll do that. From now on, I’ll introduce you as my art consultant.”

“Just Chelsea is fine.” His usual intensity had softened, and she loved how much more care free he seemed at the moment.

“Best and worst for you?”

“Best: milkshake. Worst…” She thought for a minute. How could she find anything wrong with such a day? “Impressionism.”

“Drive safely, Just Chelsea.” Standing, he closed the door for her.

As she drove away, she could barely keep her mind on the road. Recounting the evening over and over in her head, she found herself wishing the night would have gone on forever. It was then she remembered she was going out of town with him in two days. Deep down, she felt a little nervous about traveling with him. But he had been very clear that there were no expectations. She had to trust him on that. Why would someone like him press an issue such as that with his obvious ability to get any woman he wanted? Again she thought about how women stared at him, obviously desiring him, and again, that feeling of jealousy rose up in her. Realizing how ridiculous that was, she tried to put it out of her mind and focus on what mattered. What would she take to Vegas?

J
ohn called her once before Saturday, and Chelsea was able to ask him what she should bring. Having never been, she didn’t know if what she had seen on TV was accurate. It appeared that people wore very dressy clothes there; at least the movies portrayed it that way. He told her to bring her swim suit, pajamas, and whatever she would feel comfortable traveling back in. If she needed a dress for dinner, they would find something there.

It was like living in a dream to do such things. Having lived on a farm all her life, she had never experienced much beyond it. Even when she visited her grandfather, who was wealthier by far than anyone she had known before John, his life was never quite so exceptional. John operated on another plane entirely.

As she finished packing her bag, she thought with sadness about her grandfather. He had died only three months before, and it still hurt as much as when she got the call that he was gone. He was the very last of her grandparents, and without him, her family would never be the same. When he died, she also lost her funding for school and living expenses. Her step-grandmother cut off his entire family, as his assets were tied up in probate. His wife was contesting his will, and with no money to pay attorney’s fees, there was nothing Chelsea’s mother could do about it. All along, her grandfather had planned to leave a considerable sum to his only daughter. That seemed doubtful now.

At precisely nine o’clock, Chelsea zipped her bag and hurriedly made her way outside. Finding John was already there waiting in the parking lot, she regretted getting so caught up in her own thoughts and losing track of time. Rushing toward him, she apologized for keeping him waiting.

“Stop apologizing. You are exactly on time.” Taking her bag, he opened the door of his black Suburban and sat it on the back seat, then took her backpack and tossed it in the floorboard.

“No limo today, I see. I guess I can make it a day without the limo.”

Smiling, he opened the passenger door for her. “Sorry, you’ll have to rough it today.”

“I suppose this will do for a road trip.”

As he got into the driver’s seat, he put the car into drive. “Hardly a road trip.”

“What do you mean, hardly?” For the first time, she considered they might be flying. He had never said, and she never thought to ask.

“You’ll see.”

The remainder of the drive, they chatted about what she might expect in Vegas.

“I don’t gamble,” she said.

“I don’t either.”

“What else do you do there besides business?”

“There are shows and great restaurants. I figure since your two “bests” so far have been food related, the food in Vegas will be a hit with you.”

She smiled at him. As usual, he was in a dark suit, his typical uniform. Having assumed they’d be driving, she wore comfortable jeans and a t-shirt. She pointed out, “I’m underdressed.”

“You’re fine as you are. There’s no dress code.”

“You seem to have a dress code.” Just as she finished speaking, she noticed they were taking a route through the airport that was unfamiliar. Before long, they pulled onto a runway and he stopped the car. Straight ahead of them was a private plane and not a small one either.

“Are we flying on that?” she sputtered.

“Are you afraid of flying?”

“No. I just assumed we would fly commercial. Well, technically, I thought we’d drive.”

“Do you mind?”

“Of course not, but I have to ask. Is this your plane?”

Opening his car door, he smiled broadly, “Of course.”

Once on the jet and settled into her seat, she rubbed her hands along the smooth leather of her chair. It was like no leather she had ever felt before, like butter almost. John was on the phone and hadn’t yet taken his seat. He was pacing, speaking calmly but firmly with whomever it was he spoke. When he was finished with his call, he sat next to her and patted her leg. Her heart leapt at the gesture.

“What do you think?”

She grinned broadly. “I can hardly believe anyone lives like this.”

Leaning in closer, he reminded her, “For a year, you do.” Since meeting her, his life felt entirely different, better than it had been in years. Though his primary focus was on business and likely always would be, she had become a bright spot, something to look forward to. He treasured her reactions to everything so new to her. When he was with her, he found he was able to see the world through fresh eyes. All the things he had become so accustomed to, he was newly thankful for, if for no other reason than he could share them with her. Somewhere along the way, the things he had worked so hard for came to mean little. With her, they seemed worth his consideration again.

For the life of her, she couldn’t figure how she went from plain old Chelsea to jet-setter Chelsea in under two weeks. Whatever happened, she decided she liked it. His words, “for a year, you do” bounced around in her head. It was late April, so that meant she had until the following April to have fun, hopefully see the world, and live a lifestyle she would never know again. She was okay with that.

While in flight, John asked her more personal questions than he had before. She told him of her family, that she was the third of five kids. Oldest were the twins Bobby and Caitlin, then her, Lexie, and finally her younger brother Preston. He asked about the farm and her parents. During the course of the conversation, she discovered his parents were still alive and in their mid-seventies. She decided not to mention that her father was two years younger than him and her mother three, even though he didn’t seem sensitive about his age, or their age difference either.