Can't Buy Me Love (20 page)

“It
never made sense why my father was pushing me to marry you before – using Jeanette
as leverage. This makes a lot more sense. He’s known for some time that he was
in trouble, but just didn’t want to admit it. Not to me, not to anyone. But I
think he reached the point where he has no choice. I’m just sorry that he keeps
dragging you into it.”

Reaching
for his coffee, Chase took a long sip before he responded. “Don’t worry about
that. I’m mostly just entertained by it, as are your Pops and my Granddad.”

“It’s
not fair to you.”

“Maybe
not, but it’s not fair to you either. What are you planning to do?”

She
shook her head. “I honestly have no idea. It’s not really my problem, to be a
completely unsympathetic daughter.”

“But
you’re not,” Chase pointed out.

“Not
what?”

“Unsympathetic.”

She
shrugged. “Not completely, I guess. I’ll call Ned later tonight. Maybe we’ll be
able to figure something out.”

But
Chase shook his head. “From what you tell me, he’s in trouble. And he may not
have a lot of time before his board starts breathing down his neck. He could be
in some legal hot water too, if he made decisions without the board weighing
in.”

Lena
leaned back in her chair and let her head drop back onto the cushion. “Oh Lord.
What a mess. And he’s messing with people’s livelihoods here, Chase. That’s
what bothers me the most. If it were just him and Jeanette, I’d be inclined to
let the chips fall where they may. But if he doesn’t handle this right, a lot of
innocent people could suffer. And that’s not fair. And all because he’s not
willing to have any of this affect his own lifestyle? What kind of man does
that?”

“Your
father is not a man of integrity.”

“He
used to be,” Lena pointed out quietly. “But something changed, and he’s not
anymore. And I imagine that makes it harder to believe that I’m not like him. Like
father, like daughter, right?”

Chase
looked straight into Lena’s eyes, seeing the bitterness and the sorrow that she
was so clearly feeling. He owed her the truth. “I have to admit that it’s given
me pause,” he said quietly. “Particularly since your father so helpfully
pointed out to me that you were far more like him than you wanted to admit. That
you were born to the life of fashion, salons, and having plenty of money, and
that your shelter work was just a hobby that you’d happily give up.”

Lena
looked up incredulously. “And you believed him?”

“No,”
he said, but then he shrugged. “Well, not at the time. Not until I overheard
your telephone conversation.”

“I
see. And then it all came together for you,” she said flatly. “All of your
baggage, plus my felonious father.”

Chase
didn’t agree, but he didn’t disagree either.

As
she looked over at the man sitting across from her, Lena realized two things. The
first was that she loved him. Despite everything. The second was that she had
too much integrity to let this relationship continue without any sign of trust
on his end. Lena’s gut told her that Chase knew he was wrong. That he knew
exactly who she was at heart, and that’s why he was here today. And why he’d
pulled her aside last night. And why seeing her with Greg had bothered him. But
until he was able to admit any of that to himself – until he was able to break
free from his history with the women he’d dated – their relationship could go
nowhere. And while that was sad, it wouldn’t ruin her, she thought. She wouldn’t
let it. She’d get over this man. She had to.

She
stood up, placing her coffee mug on the table in front of her. “Thanks for coming
by this morning, Chase,” she said formally. “I’m sorry you had to witness what
you did with my father, but I’m glad that we were able to talk things through. And
I assure you that I will make it clear to my father that marriage to you is not
in my future.”

Chase
stood too, but seemed unwilling to just let things go. “Lena, I told you last
night that I thought I was mistaken about you.”

Lena
looked over at him sadly. “You
thought
you were mistaken,” she
reiterated, just to be clear.

“Yes.”

“I
don’t think that’s good enough,” Lena sighed. “But I understand your hesitance.
I’ll see you to the door.”

Chase
left, but with some reluctance. The conversation with Lena had gone badly, but
no worse than it could or should have, considering that it started with Lena
arguing with her father in the hall. About him. And even more specifically,
about Lena doing anything in her power to get him to marry her. So really, the
fact that he hadn’t just walked away said a great deal more than Lena seemed to
understand.

Back
in his car, he drove across town to his own home. He needed to decide what to
do next. Because while he still wasn’t 100% sure where he and Lena stood with
each other, he wasn’t quite ready to just let the relationship end.

Lena
was the first person in a long time to interest him, to make him laugh, to give
him some sense of normalcy in his world. She had a real job, real concerns,
things that she enjoyed, and friends that she enjoyed them with. She had a dog.
She liked sushi and paté as much as she liked beer and hamburgers.

But
she also had a criminal father, who was dishonest and immoral. She had no
reason to show any loyalty or kindness to the man, but she did. And as much as
he hated to admit it, it was that loyalty to her father that had Chase second-guessing
Lena and her own motives and actions.

He’d
feel much better if she just told her father to stay out of her life. As long
as she tried to help him, tried to appease him, and tried to earn his love,
there was a chance that she’d do what he wanted her to do out of some misplaced
sense of allegiance. He hadn’t seen her stand up to the man. Hadn’t seen her
tell him no. Even this morning, when William was browbeating Lena into some
sense of submission to his will, she had been kind and calm. And while he
appreciated that character trait, and understood that it probably served her
well in her career, he wanted to see her lose her temper and tell her father
off. Much as she’d told
him
off from time to time, he thought wryly.

But
here’s the thing, he thought, as he pulled into his garage and shut off the
ignition. He was pretty sure that her motives were pure. That she really didn’t
care about money. That she would be dating him if he were just an ordinary guy,
working an ordinary job and bringing in an ordinary paycheck. That she would be
happier, in fact, if that were the case. So what was the problem?

There
really was only one possible conclusion here. The problem was that he was an
idiot. Not just someone who made a mistake, as he’d told Lena. No, he was a
true moron. Slamming his head on the steering wheel, he let his feelings pour
over him. Feelings that he’d been suppressing for too long – feelings that he
knew he needed to let out, deal with, understand, and build on. Because if he
didn’t see them through, didn’t think about what they meant and how to show
them, he was well on his way to losing the absolute best thing in his life.

Letting
himself out of his car, he shoved his keys in his pocket and closed the garage
door behind him. Moments later, he was in his study, his computer was turned
on, and he was again googling the name Charlene Magill. Again, reading about
her life and her work. Again, realizing that Lena was exactly as she’d seemed
to him along – genuine, loving, caring, and altruistic.

She
worked in a shelter. She lived in a transitional neighborhood. She was working
on making a skittish dog into a loving and slightly less neurotic companion. She
had gone to school for a degree in social work, not business, not law, and not
medicine, all of which would be way more financially lucrative than her chosen
career path. All the evidence was there, in front of him. Why had he looked
over it before, and gone straight past the truth and on into the territory of
stupid conclusions?

Because
his own past was less than stellar, he realized. He had dated women for the
wrong reasons. Because they were beautiful, they were of his social set, they
were easy to pick up and almost easier to let go when the affair ended. It was
the age-old stereotype – man dates woman for beauty and accepts that woman
dates man for what he can provide her. Stereotypes, though, were not
necessarily based in reality. Lena, beautiful as she was, could take care of
herself. She didn’t need a man – not her father, not her brother, and not him. Not
even him.

Leaning
back in his chair, he thought back to their time together in Arizona. He and
Lena and their grandfathers had spent several days together doing simple
things. They ate good food. They drank good wine and good scotch. The older men
golfed while he and Lena explored the town, or showed up at the course to cheer
them on and help them hunt errant golf balls. And every time one of the old men
had brought up the ‘blackmail Lena into marrying Chase’ scheme that her father
had proposed, they all went into fits of hysterical laughter. Even Chase. Even
Lena, though she was less amused, perhaps because she alone realized how insane
her father was for suggesting it.

And
she was always the one pulling back and laughingly saying ‘no way’ to their
scheming. She was the one who rolled her eyes at their behavior and reined in
their craziness. She wouldn’t have done that if she were truly conniving, and
truly only interested in his dollars.

And
Lena’s Pops was his own grandfather’s best friend. If Lena were anything but
what she appeared to be – anything but the genuine loving granddaughter that
she seemed, surely her grandfather wouldn’t be nearly as fond of her as he was.
And his own grandfather was no fool. He could normally spot greed or treachery
from across the room.

No.
The only conclusion was the one he should have reached the same day he
overheard Lena’s phone conversation – that there was an explanation for
everything. Oh, and that he was a moron. That was definitely a given.

So
now what? he wondered. The first thing was to figure out what the hell to do
with her father. After that, he needed to figure out how to apologize to Lena,
and then how to spend the rest of his life making it up to her. Because he had
every intention of spending the rest of his life with her by his side.

Eighteen

Lena
spent the rest of the morning attacking her apartment with a vacuum, a dust
cloth, glass cleaner, and a roll of paper towels. She loved Winston to pieces,
but between fur, slobber, and random dog-messes of some sort, her home needed
some serious attention. Plus, the feeling that she got when she finished
setting a room to rights was exactly what she needed today. Physical activity. Clean
floors. A happy dog in the back yard. She was very mad about her father, very
sad about her relationship with Chase, but working through all of it with a
pile of cleaning supplies.

By
the end of the morning, her place was in order and no longer smelled even
mildly of wet dog. She had clean sheets on her bed, fresh towels hanging in the
bathroom, a refrigerator devoid of all suspicious looking substances, and her
couch was free of fur. And as soon as she let him in, Winston would take one
look at all of it and proceed to do his part in getting it back to 'normal.'

She
spent the early afternoon at the shelter, covering for Frank. He reappeared at
3:00, told her he had it covered from there, and sent her home. She went,
stopping at the gym for a quick workout, then at the grocery store for a few
staples before heading back to take Winston for a walk. By the time they got
home, it was 5:00.

After
taking a quick shower, Lena piled her wet hair on top of her head, stepped into
a pair of comfortable yoga pants and a loose t-shirt, and padded out to the
kitchen to decide on what to cook for dinner. She contemplated calling Kat, but
remembered that she was catering a dinner party tonight, and would be in the
middle of preparations for that. So she pulled out a pile of recipes that she'd
been wanting to try, and began to look through them.

Hmm.
A glass of wine would go nicely with all of this, she thought. And she was
pleased to realize that she really just wanted the glass to enjoy while she
cooked, not to medicate herself against the pain that Chase had caused. Maybe
she really would survive this. Standing up, she bent down in front of her wine
rack to see what she had available. She was just standing up with a bottle of
Shiraz when she heard a knock on her door.

Sighing,
she wondered to herself, what now? Because, seriously, who else could possibly
just appear at her door today?

“Frank?”

“Hey
Lena. Sorry to just drop by like this.”

“You
never just drop by. I don’t mind, but now I’m worried. What’s up? Come on in –
are you OK?”

Frank
sighed. “I’m fine. And this was probably a mistake. I should go.”

Lena
reached out and grabbed his elbow. “Of course you shouldn’t go. Get in here. Winston
is out back, the house is clean, there’s really not a better time for anyone to
see my house. Honestly. You can tell everyone at the shelter that I’m really
not the slob everyone thinks I am. Plus, I was thinking of making dinner.”

“Oh
no you don't.”

“Come
on Frank. Just because I experiment doesn’t mean that everything I make is
crap.”

“Last
time you fed me, it was some weird tetrazzini dish with some weird mushroom and
some weird sauce, and some weird vegetable.”

“Yeah,
but you ate seconds. Maybe even thirds, if I recall correctly.”

“Well,
yeah. But I’m not exactly a gourmand.”

Lena
giggled. “I was actually just going to make Italian pork chops. But if you want
me to try something with some weird sauce...”

Frank
chuckled. “Pork chops sound great. But I didn’t come over here so you could
feed me.”

“I
didn’t think you did. But I’d honestly love the company, I’m cooking anyway, and
you can talk to me while I work. Plus, you can open the wine. I always seem to
mess up the corks, when I don’t remember to buy the screw-top bottles.”

“I
think this is really why you’re a beer drinker – the tops twist off with
minimal effort.”

“You
may be onto something. Though I’m not drinking that crap that you drink with
the pop top cans. That stuff is vile. Plus, I always break a nail opening the
tabs.”

“Nothing
like a PBR in a can, Lena.”

“You
live in Colorado. You could at least drink Coors,” Lena pointed out. “But the
wine bottle is over on the counter, so please have at it.”

Frank
made himself at home in her kitchen. He had been there with the rest of the
Helping Hands Saturday night crew frequently, so he easily located a corkscrew
and glasses, and then proceeded to pour wine for each of them. He handed Lena’s
glass to her, then sat down on one of the stools in front of the breakfast bar.

“Cheers,”
he said, raising his glass in her direction, then taking a sip. “Hey, good
stuff.”

Lena
pulled out the ingredients she needed to make supper, glad to the core that she
had company tonight, but a bit worried about Frank’s impromptu visit. Still,
she decided to let him tell her what was going on in his own time. She didn’t
want to push him. She never wanted to push people to talk to her – she just let
them know that she was happy to listen.

They
chatted for a few minutes about the Broncos and the Rockies, moving on briefly
to the Avalanche. A few more minutes talking about one of the young volunteers
at the shelter who was getting married in a few weeks. And then a few more
minutes talking about the weather. Finally, Frank poured himself another glass
of wine and said, “So I met someone.”

Lena
looked up with a smile. “Yeah? Who?”

“Her
name is Frankie.”

She
just stared at him. “You’re kidding.”

“No,”
he grinned.

Lena
made a face. “That’s disgustingly cute. I’m picturing curly red hair and an
attitude.”

“Close.
Straight red hair and an attitude.”

Laughing,
Lena shook her head. “OK. So tell me about her.”

Frank
took a sip of wine. “I met her through Women-With-Attitudes.com.”

“No
you didn’t,” Lena said dismissively. “Where did you really meet her?”

“Christian
Singles.com.”

“On
line, huh?”

“Nothing
wrong with that,” Frank seemed defensive.

“Nothing
at all,” Lena agreed. “I just don’t think of you as a computer-savvy guy, so I’m
going to want to meet her to be sure she’s not a 20-year old transvestite,” she
grinned. “So???”

Frank
was laughing. “So nothing. She’s in her early 40’s, she's a huge baseball fan,
she drinks the same slop I do…”

“Oh
crap. She seriously drinks PBR?”

“Well
only sometimes. She prefers microbrews. But the point is, she likes me.”

“Ah,
a woman who
likes
you,” Lena teased. “OK. Tell me more.”

“What
do you want to know?”

“Have
you actually met her yet?”

Frank
looked offended. “Of course.”

“And
she didn’t hit you over the head with a baseball bat and swipe your wallet, so
that’s a good sign. Does she mind your bike?”

“Mind?
She’s completely into it. We’re hoping to take a road trip this summer up to northern
California and Oregon.”

“How
long have you known her?”

“Just
a couple of months. But wow, Lena. She’s amazing.”

Lena
stopped what she was doing and just leaned on the counter and stared at her
friend. He looked happy, she thought. Happier than she’d seen him in a long
time. “Frank, I am so happy for you I could cry. Really. And I do want to meet
her. This is just... so cool,” she finished with a happy grin.

Frank
winked at her. “Thanks. I just wanted you to know, because... well... I’m going
to start bringing her with me to Saturday nights. And you’re hosting next
weekend.”

“Ah.
OK. I’ll make her feel at home, I promise. Unless you’re telling me this
because she hates dogs, and you want me to find Winston a play date for the
night?”

“She
loves dogs.”

“I
still can’t believe her name is Frankie. OK, so more, please. Is she single?
Divorced? Widowed?”

“Divorced.
Two kids in college. She’s a paralegal at a firm a few blocks from here. Her
kids are smart – both are on full scholarships. One is up in Fort Collins, and
the other is in Boulder.”

“You’ve
met them?”

“A
few weeks ago. They’re good kids.”

“How
could I have not seen this?” Lena asked as she placed two breaded chops in a
fry pan on the stove and turned on the heat. “You’re goofy happy. You must have
been goofy happy for weeks. How did I miss it?”

“You’ve
been a little preoccupied lately,” Frank said gently. “For good reason. So how
are you doing? Do I need to go and run Chase down on the street one night? Take
a few of our best ex-cons and go teach him a lesson?”

Lena
laughed. “Yeah, that I’d like to see. Geez. No. I’m doing OK. I’m sorry that
Chase has been MIA from the shelter lately, but I think he’ll make it back
there eventually.”

“What
happened between you two, if you don't mind me asking?”

“A
whopper of a misunderstanding,” Lena said as she adjusted the heat on her
stovetop. “Plus my father did a fine job of convincing the poor man that I’m
all about the money.”

“And
he believed that crap?”

“I
think he’s rethinking his conclusions, but I don’t know that it’s ever going to
work itself out, to be honest.” She shrugged. “I go back and forth between mad
as hell and resigned. Oh, and hurt comes in occasionally. But seriously, if it’s
meant to work out, it will. And I’m OK.”

“Maybe
I need to go pummel your father.”

“I
think he’s done a fine job of pummeling himself lately,” Lena sighed as she
flipped the chops in the pan and adjusted the heat again. Reaching across the
cooktop, she turned on the oven to warm up. She then pulled a bag of green
beans from the fridge, as well as the makings for a salad, putting it all on
the countertop next to the sink to rinse.

“Anything
I can do to help?” Frank asked.

“Want
to rinse off a couple of potatoes and shove them in the oven? I’ve got both regular
and sweet potatoes, so whichever you want.”

“What
would you like?”

“Sweet,
I think.”

Frank
reached up and pulled a couple of sweet potatoes from a wire bowl on a shelf
and moved over to the sink to scrub them. “I’m sorry I just showed up tonight,
Lena. But I’ve been wanting to talk to you, and didn’t know when I’d have
another chance. But I should have called.”

“You
never have to apologize for showing up at my door. You’re family to me. More
family than my own family, come to think of it,” she laughed. “Well, at least
you’re right up there with Ned and Pops.”

“And
that is a high compliment,” Frank said truthfully. “I’ll never understand your
father. And at this point, I’d add Chase to my list of people who confuse me.”

“He’s
got a history of women in his life who’ve been after his dollars. That’s one of
the main reasons he was so guarded about who he is when he first came to the
shelter. So with that kind of baggage, it’s not a complete surprise that he
sees opportunists around every corner. He’s a wealthy man. There are a lot of
women who are looking for that in a relationship.”

“But
not you.”

“No,
not me. But I’ve seen what that life is like, Frank, and hated it. A lot of
women think that money buys happiness. And I don’t think you can tell them otherwise
– I think they have to realize it for themselves.”

Frank
was stabbing the sweet potatoes with a fork as he nodded over at Lena. “Your
father and Jeanette are living proof that money and happiness do not go hand in
hand.”

Lena
nodded. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“Maybe
someday they’ll realize it.”

Lena
rolled her eyes. “I’m not holding my breath.”

Frank
chuckled. “Good. OK, potatoes are ready. I’m sticking them in the oven.”

“I’ll
add the pork in just a moment. Thanks, Frank. Everything else can wait for a
bit until we’re closer to dinner. More wine?”

“Of
course.”

The
two old friends sat on Lena’s couch and talked for a while, then got up and
made salad and steamed green beans before dinner. Lena let Winston back in and
fed him his supper, and he cautiously sniffed Frank before heading back to his
crate to watch them both suspiciously.

They
hadn’t had a chance to get together like this in a long time, Lena realized. And
she’d missed it. She was glad he had come over. While she had no intention of
lunging for the Ben and Jerry’s this evening, talking with Frank completely
took her mind off of her own troubles.

Lena
asked more about Frankie, and Frank seemed delighted to tell her. Over dinner,
Lena filled him in on her father’s legal mess, and he just rolled his eyes and
told Lena that she should disown her father and the whole darn mess.