Can't Buy Me Love (16 page)

She
let Ned sleep for about two days straight to get past the jet lag. But the
third day was a Saturday, and the weather was clear and crisp. They needed to
get out of the house.

“Come
on. You can nap this afternoon. I’ll make coffee. Let’s go down to the park and
walk around, or head up into the mountains. We could both use the fresh air. And
Winston needs the exercise.”

So
Ned allowed Lena to bundle him up in warm clothes and to stick a thermos of hot
coffee in his hand, and they headed out to one of the local parks where they
strolled around and talked while Winston alternately sniffed at inanimate
objects, and chased leaves.

“When
are you going to talk to Dad?” Lena asked quietly as they sipped their coffee
and watched the dog.

“Probably
tomorrow. I’ll call him tonight to be sure he’ll be home.”

“I’d
offer to go with you, but I think you’ll be better off without me there. But
I’ll have a bottle of scotch waiting for you when you get back.”

Ned
offered Lena a wry smile. “I may need it.”

“OK,
so business is good. And you’re telling Dad about that. So that’s all good
news.”

“Well,
good for me. Not sure if he will see it the same way. But that’s not my
problem.”

“So
what has you so down in the dumps? If some guy broke your heart…”

Ned
laughed without much humor. “Pot, meet kettle.”

“Yeah,
OK, we can talk about my mess later. But what’s going on? You met someone while
you were gone?”

Ned
sighed. “I did.”

“And?”

“I
wanted to move back here. He didn’t.”

“That’s
too simplistic. There’s too much room for compromise in there, and you have
always been a whiz at compromise. So what happened?”

Shaking
his head, Ned thought about it as he walked. “I’m not really sure, Lena,” he
said at last. “We started talking about it – about trying to stay together. But
I guess I kept talking about Denver as a done deal, and I didn’t realize that
he wasn’t necessarily that interested in moving here. Eventually, things just
blew up. I didn’t mean for them to – I didn’t even know that he wanted
something different. Or that he at least wanted to talk about it, and come to a
decision together. But he said I was just too wrapped up in my work, and that I
didn’t make time for him or for us, which was probably true. It was pretty much
everything I used to overhear Mom saying to Dad.”

“You’re
not Dad,” Lena assured him.

“I’m
not so sure. Anyway, one day I went off to work, and when I came home, he was
gone. And I haven’t heard from him.”

“Does
he have a name?” Lena asked gently.

“David.
David Sanders.”

“Have
you tried to find him? Do you want to find him?”

“Yes
and yes. But apparently he was right. I was wrapped up in my work. So much so
that I don’t know who his friends are and where he might be staying. But he’s
somewhere in Tokyo, and I’m here in Denver. So I don’t know how anything could
work out at this point. I just need to get over him, I guess.”

“Do
you love him?” Lena asked.

“Yes.
Only I never told him.” Kicking some leaves in frustration, Ned said quietly, “I’m
such an idiot, Lena.”

She
bumped him with her shoulder. “You’re not an idiot. You can fix this, Ned. But
before we start looking for the guy, have you thought about how you’d change
things if you could? Is Denver completely out of the question for him?”

Ned's
eyes were bleak. “I don’t know. I never asked. I just assumed.”

“Suppose
he doesn’t want to live here? Or doesn’t want to live in the States? What would
you do?”

The
look in Ned’s eyes said it all. “Lena, if he wanted to live in a mud shack in
the middle of the jungle, I’d move there with him. After placing a very large
order with a gourmet food store and a luxury outdoor store, of course.”

Lena
laughed. “Well damn. Here I was thinking I might have you around a bit more,
and instead, I’m gonna need to traipse through a damn forest to come visit. I’ll
probably get eaten by a crocodile. Or piranhas.”

“If
anyone could get eaten by piranhas in a forest, it’d be you,” Ned grinned down
at her.

“OK.
So where does he work?”

“He’s
a teacher. He teaches English in one of the American schools there.”

“Then
he shouldn’t be hard to track down. Ned, if David feels the same way about you
that you feel about him, he won’t make it hard on you. He’ll just want you to
care enough to look for him.”

“You
think?”

“I
do. Which means that you’re going to need to suffer another international
flight to Tokyo.”

“Want
to go with me?”

“Oh
Lord, yes. And I’d be one hell of a detective. But I’ve got stuff going on at
work, so I’ll cheer you on from here. And if there’s anything I can do to
help…”

“You
already have. I’ll go see Dad tomorrow, and then see about getting a flight
back overseas.”

“I
know you told me that business is booming, but if you need to borrow anything…”

“Thanks,
Lena. But I’m good. When I get back, I’ll explain more. But you’re good too. I’ve
done well with your investment.”

“Well
reinvest it, then. I’m doing fine with what I’ve got, Ned. And if it will grow
your business, then keep on using it.”

Ned
threw his arm casually over Lena’s shoulders. “So what happened with Chase? Did
Dad’s approval finally make you realize that the guy was a loser?”

Lena
leaned into her brother. “No. We had a misunderstanding.”

She
filled her brother in on Chase’s reaction to their phone conversation, and they
spent the better part of an hour trying to figure out what they’d been talking
about and what he could have misinterpreted. But Ned was steadfast in his
opinion that Chase was a moron.

“He
could have just asked you. For crying out loud, anyone who spends more than
five minutes in your company can see the kind of person you are.”

“Well,
in his defense…” Lena went on to describe how she’d initially met Chase, and
how she had adopted such a bland personality around him. “So I don’t think he
knows who I am. Not really.”

“Would
it help if I talked to him?” Ned offered.

Lena
shrugged. “He doesn’t trust me. That’s the bottom line. You might convince him
that he was mistaken this time, but if he still thinks me capable of thinking
and saying the things I did, that will resurface. No, he’ll either realize that
he was wrong, or he won’t. But I think I need to give him time to come to that
decision on his own.”

“Well
I still think he’s a moron. But OK.”

After
walking for a while longer, catching up on their lives and their family, they
loaded Winston back into Lena’s car and headed back to her place. Ned spent
some time on the computer while Lena cleaned up a bit, and then he took a nap
while she ran to the store to get some groceries to make dinner. It was a nice
way to spend a Saturday, Lena decided. The only thing that would make it better
would be if things were resolved with both Chase and David. But that, she
decided, might take a miracle.

Fifteen

Two
weeks later, Ned was back in Tokyo hunting down the love of his life, and Lena
was sitting at her computer, struggling to write a letter of recommendation for
Marie, one of the Helping Hands’ previous clients, who had applied for a job at
a local physician’s office as a receptionist. Marie would do a great job, Lena
knew. She had the right personality for the job, she was conscientious, and she
was smart as a whip. She just needed a foot in the door, and Lena hoped that
her previous relationship with some of the office workers might help to give
Marie a trial period. She was sure that’s all it would take.

A
sharp knock on the door startled her, and drew her attention away from the
screen. She pulled off her reading glasses and looked up to see a tall handsome
man standing in front of her. He was dressed in an expensive suit, and
everything about him screamed ‘lawyer.’ And that screamed ‘
uh oh
’ to
Lena. She stood up.

“Are
you Charlene Magill?”

She
took a deep breath, wondering what kind of trouble one of her clients was in,
and what she was being subpoenaed for. “Yes,” she said cautiously.

“I’m
Gregory Cartwright.”

The
name rang a million bells. Mr. Cartwright was a very wealthy man, and very generous
donor to the shelter, providing a substantial contribution to Helping Hands
every quarter of the year. His generosity often meant the difference between
straying toward the red or staying in the black each month, especially during
the cold winter.

Lena’s
reaction was both automatic and heartfelt. She came out from behind her desk
and extended her hand to his. “Mr. Cartwright. Oh my. This is a real pleasure,”
she said, even as she thought,
uh oh... why is this man here?

He
took her hand and shook it firmly. “I’m sorry to just pop in on you like this,
Ms. Magill. But I was downtown at the courthouse taking care of some business,
and I looked over and saw the sign for Helping Hands. And since I’ve given so
much to the shelter over the years and I’ve never seen it, I just wanted to get
some appreciation for the place my funds are going to. I know that seems like a
crazy line, and it may seem like I’m doing some sort of pop inspection, but I
assure you I’m not. I’m honestly just curious.”

Lena
smiled a genuine smile. Most benefactors never set foot in the place, but for
those that did, a quick tour and a chance to talk with some of the folks they
were helping usually impressed them. And, she admitted to herself, often
brought in more funds. This was the kind of fundraising she could do, she
thought.

“I’m
glad you came by,” she said warmly. “We love for our donors to see first-hand
where their funding is going, and you are definitely one of the most generous
donors that Helping Hands has. So I thank you for that. Your money helps
tremendously. Do you have time now? Would you like me to show you around?”

“I’d
love that. But you must be busy, Ms. Magill. If there's someone else you’d
rather send?”

Lena
grinned. “I just finished a bunch of paperwork and I’d honestly like nothing
better than to stretch my legs and show you around, Mr. Cartwright.”

“Please.
Call me Greg.”

“All
right. I’m Lena.” They shook hands again, and Lena noted the appreciative
glance that the man threw her way.

“I
know this sounds like a line, but have we met?” he asked.

“We
may have,” Lena admitted as she locked her office behind her and led her
companion away from the administrative area. As they passed the main desk in
the reception area, she looked over at her secretary and said, “Amelia, I'm
going to show Mr. Cartwright around. Can you hold down the fort?”

Amelia’s
eyes widened, recognizing the name of a major benefactor. “Of course,” she said
confidently. “I’ll call if I need you.”

“You
look very familiar to me,” Greg continued as Lena led him down the hallway and
toward the main facility.

“My
father is William Magill. I spend some time in his company at various social
events during the year,” Lena explained. “Perhaps we met at one of those?”

He
looked down at her, a slightly puzzled expression on his face before he snapped
his fingers. “Yes, of course. You were at the Wounded Warrior fundraiser a
couple of months ago. You were dancing with an older gentleman, and I was
extremely jealous that he was monopolizing your time. You were easily the most
beautiful woman there,” he said with a grin.

Lena
blushed. Compliments that flew so easily were hard for her to accept.

“Thank
you,” she said quietly. “That’s kind of you. Yes, I was with my grandfather’s
best and oldest friend that evening. It was one of the nicest benefit events I’d
been at in a while,” she added. “Probably because I enjoyed his company so
much.”

“Perhaps
I'll see you at the next one, and be able to steal you away from him for a
while,” Greg smiled down at her. “But what is William Magill’s daughter doing
managing a homeless shelter?” he asked.

“Earning
a living,” Lena smiled. “And doing it the best way I know how. I’m a licensed
social worker,” she explained. “I’d like to say that this is my profession, but
it’s more of a calling.”

With
that, Lena started to explain how the shelter worked, and to show him around as
she did so. He asked good questions, and was extremely interested and impressed
by the work they were doing, and did not hesitate to say so. He was polite and
warm in meeting the staff and the clients alike, and by the time his brief tour
was over, he was back in Lena’s office, asking how he could help more.

“I
know money isn’t the only thing you need. Publicity helps too. What can I do?”

So
Lena pulled out the fundraising materials that Chase had worked with her to
assemble, feeling a slight pang of sorrow as she recalled their time together
working on the brochure. Pushing her emotions away, Lena turned back to Greg
and quickly sketched out both their short and long term goals for the shelter. She
drew his attention to the most urgent issues that the shelter would face, and
then also pointed out the possibilities for donations that would allow for some
very positive publicity for his company if he chose to make a corporate
donation.

By
the time Greg stood to leave an hour later, he had a much better idea of how
the shelter worked, and Lena was feeling confident that she’d given him her
best fundraising spiel. And that was saying a lot, given how much she hated asking
for money.

“I’m
impressed. I know that this is a very well-regarded place, and that the success
rate is extremely high, but now I can see why.”

“We
have our problems,” Lena assured him, wanting to be sure that he had a
realistic view of the work they did. “Drugs call people back to the streets
every day, and some people just go back to the life that’s familiar to them. But
we’re making a difference, particularly with women and families.”

“I’ll
do what I can to help. Please feel free to call on me if there’s anything that
comes up that you need specific assistance with. Otherwise, I’m planning to
increase my quarterly donation by 25%, starting in January.”

Lena
drew a sharp breath. “That’s really generous. I hope you know how much we
already appreciate what you do for us here.”

Greg
hesitated before sitting back in his chair and leveling his steady gaze at
Lena. “Lena, my sister ran away from home when she was 16. She lived on the
streets for three years before I was able to find her, and her life had been
irretrievably and fundamentally changed by then. She’s still in and out of
shelters. But places like yours make a difference to people like her,
especially when the weather turns cold. I’ll always worry about her. But I rest
easier knowing that she has a place to go. If I can help provide that to others
in her situation…”

Lena
nodded sympathetically. “I’m sorry about your sister. Does she live around
here?”

“Chicago.”

“Oh
geez. You’re not kidding about cold weather.”

“I
think I’d live in southern Florida if I could. I’m not a cold weather person at
all.”

“No?
I like it, but I’m not usually out in the worst of it except by choice.”

“Choice?”

“Skiing,”
Lena smiled. “Apart from that, I’m as thankful for heat in the winter as the
next person.”

“Cross-country,
or downhill?”

“Both,
but there’s something about hurtling down a hill at top speed that gives me an
adrenaline rush like nothing else. So if I had to choose one or the other, I’d
choose downhill. Do you ski?”

“I
do. And, like you, I prefer downhill to cross-country. Have you tried
snowboarding?”

“Oh,
Lord no. I’m dangerous enough on skis, and that’s with both legs free to go in
different directions to help me balance. Put me on a snowboard, and I’m bound
to take out a few dozen people on the way down a slope.”

Greg
laughed. “Someday, if I ever get enough free time to get back on the slopes, I’d
love to take you along and let you give it a shot. You might like it more than
you think.”

“Well,
I might,” Lena conceded. “I might also enjoy my time at the ER, along with all
the people I plow into. But sure. Let me know if you’re headed up, and if I can
join you, I will.”

“Good.
I’d better get going. I only meant this to be a brief stop today, and I’ve easily
monopolized more than an hour of your time. My PA is probably sending out search
crews to find me since I’ve been out of pocket for so long. Lena, thanks for
your time. I appreciate the tour, and I’m even more confident that our
donations are being used well.”

He
stood and extended his hand. Lena took it, and shook it firmly, smiling up at
him as she did so. “I’m glad you came by. If you get home and come up with any
more questions for me, just let me know.”

After
being rebuffed by Chase earlier in the month at the last benefit she’d gone to,
Lena badly wanted to avoid social functions for a while. Maybe a long while. Maybe
the rest of her life, she thought. But she couldn’t. Part of it was pure
obligation to her friends, her family's friends, and her own commitment to
these causes. Part of it was a chance to socialize with people who could be
donors to Helping Hands. But most of it was pride. While she couldn't say that
she enjoyed these functions very much, they were a part of her life, and a part
of who she was. And she was not going to be pushed into changing that life
because of a man.

Still,
the thought of going alone to these events was hard. She knew that Chase would
be there, knew that he’d have a date, and knew that she’d be looked at and
pitied by many in the room. And while other people’s opinions of her didn’t necessarily
bother her, it would be so much easier to have someone with her to socialize
with when all eyes were on her. So she was greatly relieved when the phone rang
one afternoon and Greg Cartwright was on the other end of the line.

“Greg,
it’s nice to hear from you,” she said truthfully. “What can I do for you?”

“Well,
I was trying to get up the nerve to call and ask you if you wanted to hit the
slopes with me this weekend. But then I realized that I’ve got a pile of work
that needs doing and, sadly, no date for the damn leukemia benefit thing on
Saturday night. I realize this is extremely short notice and you probably have
had about fifty guys ask you this, but would you be free to go with me?”

“Saturday
night?” Lena repeated, looking at her calendar. She was sure that the leukemia
benefit was already on her calendar, and it would be wonderful to have company.
But she had to take a quick glance to be sure she wasn’t double-booking
anything.

“Yes.
I’ll grovel. Please. I need to go to this thing for all sorts of political and
business reasons, but I really really don’t want to go alone. And I like you,
and you’re beautiful, and I assume you care about leukemia, so will you go?”

Lena
started to laugh. “Sure. I’d be happy to,” she said easily.

“Oh,
thank God. And thank you.”

“What
time? And do you want me to meet you there?”

“Oh,
hell no. I’ll pick you up. 7:00. Text me your address, OK?”

“It’s
not in a great part of town,” she warned.

“I’ll
stick the Uzi in the glove compartment. See you at 7:00.”

At
7:00 on Saturday night, Winston was spending the evening with his second
favorite person on the planet (Kat), enjoying his absolute favorite activity
(lying on the couch), and eating his favorite food (hot dogs). Lena found
herself feeling a bit bereft without her crazy dog around, but was able to
quickly vacuum the rugs and the couch and under the furniture to collect stray
fur prior to getting dressed and ready for the evening. She was wearing forest
green this evening, and had her hair pinned up carefully into a loose bun, with
a few tendrils artfully framing her face. When the doorbell rang promptly at
6:59, Lena slid her feet into her gold sandals and went to get the door.