A Younger Man (Mount Faith Series: Book 7) (6 page)

"Grown women don't have boyfriends."

"Ooh." Carol grinned. "Seems like I hit a nerve. In your diary, the one on your side table you have a guys name in there. Vanley. Is he your man friend?"

"Shut up!" Anita got up. "What, are you three years old? Why were you in my room, and my diary?"

"You are always so sparing with information," Carol said bouncing up and down in the settee. "I thought your diary would be enlightening. All I see are meetings, schedules, and one entry about hating Joe Masters. Man, I don't think I am going to be staying here for long. This place is boring. Not even your diary is exciting, except for that name, Vanley, that was circled with a heart. Now that's cryptic. It had me guessing. Is Vanley a shoe brand? Tell me Anita; break up the drudgery."

"Good, you are bored." Anita grunted. "That means you will leave soon. Please God, please let it be so." Then she got up and kicked a nail clip case. The edge of it nicked her toe. "Please keep your pig sty ways out of the common areas." She went into her room and slammed the door.

"Vanley, Vanley, Vanley." Carol laughed softly, definitely not a shoe brand. No shoes could bring out the passionate side of Anita like that.

Chapter Four

"What's wrong?" Vanley stood at Anita's door. He had been staring at her for the past minute. She was hitting her forehead intermittently with her open palm and grunting in frustration.

He figured it was a super busy day because Davia had dashed past him on the steps when he was on his way to see Anita. She had "urgent business to do for the boss lady," she had told him in a rush. With that, he realized that the coast was clear. Anita would be alone in the office. It made him feel better because he was determined to have lunch with her today. They had never really done that: have lunch, sit, and talk.

Anita looked up at him and groaned. "Nothings wrong, really. I have a bunch of things to do."

"I have food," Vanley said holding up a picnic basket. "I had extra, and I just happened to be in the neighborhood, so here I am."

"I have no time for lunch," Anita rubbed her forehead. "I have a long list of things to do plus the department budgets to go over."

"You have to eat." Vanley sat before her and put the basket on her desk. "I have taken up cooking as a hobby."

Anita laughed. "It doesn't show on you."

"Well, I cook for one. I have nobody to try out my latest recipes on," Vanley said. "I baked bread yesterday. I felt so accomplished when I did it."

Anita shook her head. She had her hair combed back in a bun. She looked younger and prettier when it was off her face. Vanley admired her. "You have a mole above your left eyelid. Why didn't I realize that before?"

Anita fidgeted with her pen, flushing at his compliment and the intense way he was looking at her. "Vanley..."

"No, seriously," Vanley said, "I notice everything about you. That mole just snuck up on me."

Anita changed the topic quickly and pointed at the basket; a pleasant aroma was coming from it. "Whatever you have in that basket smells good."

Vanley grinned wickedly. "I roasted beef, and I made a melt in your mouth beef sandwich that's fit for a queen."

He took out a container with the sandwich and handed it to her.

Anita took it. She didn't have the heart to tell him that she did not eat red meat. She bit into it anyway. It tasted so good she looked up at him in surprise. "Wow…the bread, the beef. Perfect. I haven't had beef in years."

Vanley frowned. "Oops, I am sorry."

Anita waved him off. “Don't be. First, I stopped eating red meat, then white meat, then no meat, but I have had chicken recently so I think I am in a confused stage right now."

"Not quite vegetarian?" Vanley asked.

"Something like that." Anita cleared her throat. Though they were discussing meat, the conversation was becoming too close to another aspect of her life.

"Thanks, Vanley." She polished off the sandwich in record time and Vanley handed her a wine glass.

"Wow, you went all out." Anita grinned.

Vanley nodded. "Sparkling lemonade. Can't have a picnic without it."

Anita laughed and sipped the liquid in her glass. "Tart, just the way I like it."

She looked at Vanley's light brown eyes; they had a brown ring around them. She contemplated him closely. He was so handsome, and kind, and crazy about her. Oh, the irony of her situation.

"I wish we could do this regularly," Vanley said pensively as he packed the wineglasses into the basket.

Anita shook her head, "No, no, don't go there. The last time you went down this line of argument," Anita lowered her voice, "you asked me to marry you."

"I was a little impulsive that day," Vanley grinned. "I was just offered my own church. I was thinking to myself that a man needs to share these things with the woman that he loves, so I practically ran over here and proposed. I had visions of us getting married that day and having children right away. I was really excited."

"And I turned you down." Anita put down her glass and ran her fingers over the rim. "We can't ever get married."

Vanley sighed. "The age thing is unfortunate but not that big a deal Anita. My mom was five years older than my Dad. There are several couples with a large age disparity and they are making it work. You can still have children at your age; we can have a couple decades together before you are in your dotage."

"I can't have children," Anita said leaning back in her chair.

"You are barren?" Vanley asked, looking at her sad expression. Her short thick lashes were veiling her eyes, but he had seen the flash of regret mixed with disappointment.

"Yes, barren: a mule, stunted." Anita shrugged. "I came to grips with it years ago, but I know that is something that you would probably find insurmountable."

"We can adopt," Vanley shrugged, "or get a surrogate. Millions of couples find ways to have children when they can't have them together. That isn't insurmountable. You mean that's the big secret that has you keeping me at arms length?"

Anita looked up at him, a look of surprise on her face. She hadn't expected him to take her news so readily, even though it wasn't her big secret, but this was huge. "You need to think about it Vanley."

"I never imagined that this would be the worst case scenario, so no, I don't need to sit and think about it, Anita." Vanley inclined his head. "I can't believe that this is the reason you have blown hot and cold with me for years."

Anita sighed and closed her eyes. "It's not the only reason. I want us to just be friends."

"No, you don't," Vanley leaned closer to the desk and stared at her, looking her squarely in her eyes. "I don't believe you. You say things like this with your mouth and then you do something else, like kissing me passionately like your life depends on it."

"That was three years ago," Anita said, cutting eye contact with him.

"And you compliment me all the time, and eat me up with your eyes like a starving woman in a desert, and you absolutely love it when I pursue you. You put on that indifferent mask that you think you wear so well, but you have a vulnerable look in your eyes all the time, even now. You want me. You like me, maybe a bit too much."

Anita closed her eyes. Vanley had read her so well that she was afraid to look at him now.

"What I can't understand," Vanley said, reaching across the desk and taking one of her hands in his, "is why the big fight."

He laced their fingers together. "So five years ago I may have been a little younger and more naive, and that may have been a concern for you, but I am much older now, and I think I can recognize the difference between love and a fleeting crush. I want you, nobody else, but you keep pushing me away."

Anita looked at his earnest features longingly. She was on the verge of blurting out her biggest bombshell yet, just to see how he would take it, but something held her back. She slowly pulled her hand from his and massaged her temples.

"When are you going to act like the mature person you claim you are and give us a chance?" Vanley asked softly.

"I promised to go to the singles retreat with you, didn't I?" Anita said, "That's progress."

Vanley nodded. "I guess. Can I come to your house to see you sometime?"

No!
Carol's voice shrieked in Anita's head before she could even formulate it herself.

She shook her head instead. "Let's take it one step at a time."

"What's your middle name?" Vanley asked, standing up. He looked a little disappointed that she refused to see him in a different environment.

"My middle name?" Anita flushed. "I don't have one."

"Really?" Vanley quirked his brow at her. "Your parents didn't give you a middle name?"

"Something like that," Anita said frowning. "Why'd you ask?"

"Just realized I didn't know it." Vanley said. "Mine is Christian. There was one time I was thinking of going by the name V.C. Bancroft."

"Sounds distinguished," Anita said, watching as he palmed the basket and headed to the door.

"I enjoyed having lunch with you," Vanley said, staring at her intensely before he walked out.

His intensity left her with a slight headache. Her heart was beating unevenly, and she felt a hot flush under her collar. She glanced down at the papers in front of her and gritted her teeth.

She was not going to indulge herself in 'what if' questions, like what if Vanley knew her secret and decided that he would stay with her anyway. She had work to do.

*****

When Vanley exited the office, Davia was at her desk. She looked at him and then at the basket and gave him a less than cheery hello. Vanley waved to her and headed through the door not catching the speculative look on her face.

Davia drummed her fingers on the desk after Vanley left. She always thought that Vanley and Anita were just good friends. She thought that Anita was like a mother figure to him. She almost laughed at her naiveté. That face coming out of Anita's office was not one of a man who had a platonic relationship with a woman. It was one of a love struck fool.

The thought made her angry and jealous. When Anita called her into the office, she barely heard what Anita said. She was looking at her in a completely new light. She assessed her boss, feature by feature.
What was so attractive about her anyway?
she thought resentfully.
You could call her pretty if you squinted one eye tightly and tilted your head to the left; maybe it was the line of her neck, or the way her hair swung.
She had healthy hair and smooth peanut butter looking skin, but for Vanley to be attracted to Anita, surely that couldn't be true. The thought wouldn't quit though, and she silently took the dictation of a letter that Anita was giving to her.

"These are the bare bones," Anita said to her in her husky professional voice. "Flesh it out and send it to me."

"Okay," Davia said abruptly and stood up. "Will there be anything else?"

Anita looked at her stony expression and shook her head. "No. Where's that happy smile of yours?"

Davia gave her a half smile. "Just one of those days, female issues." She tacked on carelessly.

Anita nodded. "Okay."

Davia huffed and went to her desk, banging the keys on the computer so loudly that she almost broke a nail. Her guy—the guy that she thought of as hers—was seeing her boss, an older woman. The inevitable comparison of herself to Anita started in her mind.

So Anita was forty and had a nice shape; she obviously worked for it and she drank green smoothies in the mornings for breakfast. She always had one of those in her hand. Her complexion was clear, but who could be sure? She always had on makeup,
Davia thought waspishly.

She was also smart and worked hard and had a demanding high-powered job. Maybe that was what Vanley found so appealing. Maybe he found strong women a turn on.
Davia looked at the business document in disgust. She had barely typed “Dear Sir/Madam”.

Next time she spoke to Vanley, she was going to have to find out about his mother. Maybe he had mommy issues, or maybe he just loved Anita for who she was. The thought made her bite her tongue, and she could taste the salty blood in her mouth.

That couldn't be it. She needed to know why he liked her boss and not her. Granted, they had just met, but she couldn't understand why he was going for Anita, of all the women in the world. He was still in his mid-twenties why saddle himself with Anita?

She started running their ages through her head: When he is forty-five Anita would be sixty, and Anita might not age well. Who knew how broken down she would look in the next couple of years.

She started typing guiltily when Anita exited her office. She was dressed in one of her tailored suits. Today it was green and it fitted her body perfectly. Davia looked down on her gray tweed suit and shuddered. She was the one who dressed like she was near retirement, not Anita. In fact, the suit she had on was a hand-me-down, straight from her grandmother's closet. She had appreciated it because it would be warm enough for the cool winds of January, but now she realized that it was boxy, furry, shapeless, and looked a hundred years old—her grandmother, a former postmistress, had made the suit for herself in the 70s.