Can't Buy Me Love (8 page)

Standing
up, she opened the door and followed Winston back inside. She locked the bolt,
tossed the wooden block back down into the track of the door, and pulled the
curtains shut. Winston looked at her expectantly.

“What?”
she asked, looking down into his hopeful eyes.

He
wagged his tail.

Lena
laughed. “Ah. OK. You want a hot dog?” she asked.

He
wagged his tail harder.

Grinning,
Lena pulled a piece of hot dog from the fridge, tossed it into the microwave
for 10 seconds, and then sat down on the floor with it, picking apart bite
sized pieces to feed to Winston, who ate them with gusto.

“You’re
a silly dog,” Lena told him. “And a bit spoiled, I should add. Not every doggy
in the world gets hot dogs. Especially warmed-up hot dogs.”

Winston
didn’t seem to get the lesson in gratefulness, but simply gobbled up every bit
she gave him, and then sniffed her hand for more. When she held up her fingers
to show him that all the pieces were gone, he gave her a look of
disappointment, and then shied away from her, heading back to his crate. Lena
sighed. “One of these days, you’ll learn to trust me, buddy. I promise.”

Winston
looked back at her worriedly. ‘One of these days,’ his eyes seemed to say.

Eight

The
next day, Chase found himself back on the couch at Jared and Gina’s place. He
had invited himself over ostensibly to watch the game with Jared, but he really
wanted to talk to Gina. And the twinkle in her eye when he sought her out in
the kitchen at half-time confirmed that she knew it.

“So?”

“So
I don’t know,” Chase said as he grabbed another beer from the fridge and popped
it open.

“So
there might be more to this woman than you thought?” Gina prodded.

“There
might be.”

“I
heard about what happened with her stepmother at the Cancer Society dinner last
night,” she told him.

“Wow.
Gossip travels fast,” he said in amazement. “But it wasn’t nearly as bad as it
could have been. Lena saw it coming and headed it off at the pass. Apparently
her father is a little more reluctant to accept that her step-mom has a problem,
and sees no harm in leaving his wife alone with an open bar and a lot of
freedom to storm it.”

“But
she’s an alcoholic,” Gina pointed out the obvious.

“Well,
yeah.”

“Hell,
everyone knows that.”

“Except,
apparently, for Lena’s dad.”

“Oh
geez. That poor woman.”

“Lena
or her step-mom?”

“Both,”
Gina sighed.

“I
took them home. Lena was really patient with Jeanette, who was more than a
little inebriated by the time we got her in the car. I dropped them off, then
was all the way back at my house when I noticed that Lena had dropped her cell on
the seat of my car. So I turned around and took it back to her.”

Gina
raised her eyebrows. “And?” she prompted.

“When
I pulled up, nearly all the lights in the house were out, apart from the
exterior lights around the front door. I nearly turned around, but I knew that
Lena would miss the phone and would probably need it the next day, if not that
night. I was walking up the driveway when I saw the front door open, and this really
beautiful woman walked out. Long brown wavy hair, curves that filled out an
amazing pair of jeans in a way that I can’t even begin to describe. And an old
worn leather jacket over a plain white t-shirt. I was just wondering if she
were a housekeeper or a family friend when the light hit her face. It was Lena.”

“You
hadn’t seen her in jeans before?”

“Sure.
But those jeans she had on last night were not just a pair of old Levi’s. They
were like they were made for her. She was stunning. It took me a minute to get
past the leather jacket too. Wow,” he shook his head at the memory. “I didn’t
realize how much I liked a woman in leather. Beat up leather.”

Rolling
her eyes, Gina asked, “So what happened?”

“She
was obviously on her way out.”

“On
her way where?”

He
shook his head. “Home, apparently.”

Gina’s
eyes widened. “Wait. What? She doesn’t live there?”

“Nope.”

“Wow.
So that’s a surprise, huh? She has her own place?”

“Yeah.
And some place,” he said ruefully. “I followed her home.”

“You
what
?”

Gina
sounded so appalled, that Chase hastened to reassure her. “I wanted to be sure
she made it home OK, Gina. That was all. She was driving this beat-up old Honda,
and it was late. And I knew she was still upset about the evening. I was
worried.”

“Yeah.
Plus you wanted to see the place Daddy had bought her,” Gina said knowingly.

But
Chase looked serious. “If Daddy bought her this place, she seriously pissed him
off at some point in her life.”

“What
do you mean?”

“She
lives in downtown Denver. Not far from the bad parts of town. The apartment
complex she lives in seems pretty safe and is on the edge of the restaurant
district, so it’s not like it’s in the worst area downtown, but it’s definitely
not a Cherry Creek condo.”

Gina
thought for a moment before saying, “Huh.”

“Yeah.”

“So
what’s she doing living there?”

“I
don’t know.”

“And
why does she want you to think she lives with her parents?”

“She
doesn’t – she told me last night that she didn’t live there. She told me that
she just doesn’t want to be dressed to the nines in her neighborhood all the
time – that there was no point in borrowing trouble.”

“Huh.
So now you’re curious.”

“Yeah.
I am. I want to know why she lives there when she’s wealthy. And why she lives
what seems to be two lives – one in the society world, and one in what can only
be described as the real world.”

“Huh,”
Gina said again.

“That’s
all you can say?” Chase asked with an apologetic smile.

But
Gina just shrugged. “I have no other words. Maybe you should ask her.”

It
was Chase’s turn to ponder things. He took another swig of beer. “Huh,” he said.

Late
the next afternoon, Chase piled a bunch of papers in his briefcase, told his
secretary that he was leaving for the afternoon, and drove to the shelter. Waving
at Frank, who was there to irritate the kitchen staff, he sauntered back to
Lena’s office, where he found her staring at her computer screen blankly.

“Hey,”
he said softly, leaning on the doorframe.

She
looked up, her tense expression relaxing a bit when she saw him. “Hey yourself.”
Leaning back in her chair, she pulled off her reading glasses and tossed them
down on the papers in front of her.

“You
made it home OK,” Chase stated as he pushed himself off the frame and strolled
into the office.

Lena
smiled. “I did.”

“You
all right?”

She
nodded. “Mostly.”

“And
your stepmother?”

Sighing,
Lena rubbed the back of her neck. “I have no idea. I didn’t call this morning
to check. Tough love and all that.” Standing up, she moved around her desk and
leaned against it. “Chase, thanks again for your help last night. I am really
sure I couldn’t have gotten my mother home safely without you.”

He
shrugged. “No problem. I’m glad I could help.”

“So
what are you doing here?” Lena asked, looking down at her watch. “You can’t
possibly be done with making deals and raking in millions for the day.”

Chase
shook his head. “I’ve got a briefcase full of papers. But I wanted to come by
and check in on you.”

“I
have a phone. Both a landline and a cell,” she pointed out. “The fact that I
have my cell is thanks to you, of course.”

“I
wanted to see you. To make sure that you were all right.”

Lena
cocked her head to the side and looked up at Chase in bewilderment. “Why?”

He
just smiled and shrugged his shoulders. “Call it a sense of responsibility,” he
said at last. “It was a rough night for you.”

Lena’s
gaze narrowed. “Responsibility? Is that the only reason?” She paused, then
crossed her arms in front of her and settled back against her desk. “Tell me
something, Edward Chase Hamilton. What brought you to this homeless shelter in
the first place? Because I’m pretty sure that you didn’t know that I work here until
you showed up. Or did you?”

He
shook his head, leaning back against the wall of her office, his hands in his
pockets, but his arms loose. “No. I thought you were a society girl whose job
was to look pretty.”

Lena
rolled her eyes. “You’re an idiot.”

“I
get that a lot,” Chase admitted.

“So
why?” she persisted.

He
shrugged again. “Actually, it’s kind of a long story. Look, I know this is kind
of spontaneous, but can I tell it to you over dinner?”

Lena
was stunned. Her eyes met his as she asked, “You want to have dinner?”

“Yeah.
Are you hungry?”

“Starving,
actually. I skipped lunch. But are you sure? Do you remember the last time we
had dinner together, just you and me?”

He
grinned at the memory. “I do. I didn’t realize it at the time, but you really hated
that place, didn’t you?”

“More
than I hated junior high school,” Lena admitted, thinking back to the
pretentious wait staff, the obscure menu, and the tiny portions.

“OK.
You choose the restaurant and I’ll make a reservation. You want a place with
good salads?”

“I
want a place with good burgers.”

It
was Chase’s turn to be surprised. “No you don’t,” he said in shock.

“Yes.
I do. And onion rings.”

Chase
grinned, pushing himself off the wall and pulling his hands from his pocket. “OK.
But I need to change into jeans if we’re going to a burger joint. Give me an
hour, and I’ll swing by your house to get you.”

Lena
stood up too, uncrossing her arms and moving back behind her desk. “You don’t
know where I live,” she reminded him.

“Sure
I do. I...” Chase caught himself before he could confess that he’d followed her
home the night before. “Oh wait. You don’t live with your parents. So no, you’re
right. But just give me the address. I’ll find you.”

Lena
gave a teasing smile. “Don't be bringing a Bentley into my neighborhood, Hamilton,”
she warned.

“What,
you live in a ghetto?” he asked lightly.

“I
live a few blocks from here,” she said, her expression turning serious. “Look,
maybe I should meet you...”

But
Chase shook his head. “I drive here to the shelter, Lena. If my car fits in here...”

“OK.
But if we get car-jacked before dinner, I’m going to be very unhappy. If it’s
after dinner, that’s OK. I’ll just get a cab home.”

“With
what money?” he asked incredulously. “The car-jackers will demand your purse.”

“I’ll
hide a twenty in my sock. Stop stalling. I’m hungry. See you in an hour. I’m at
703 S Broadway. Apt. 105.”

“Ground
floor? In
that
neighborhood?” he said incredulously as he turned and
headed for the door.

“I
have a vicious dog.”

That
stopped him in his tracks. He turned around and looked at her like she’d grown
another head. “You. You have a dog.”

Lena
slowly smiled. “I do.”

He
shook his head in disbelief. “All right. I’m going. See you at 6:00. Your dog
isn’t going to attack me when I come by for you, is he?”

“Winston?
Pretty unlikely.”

When
Chase arrived at Lena’s apartment that night, she had changed into a nicer pair
of jeans with a low pair of brown boots. She had on a loose flowery cotton
shirt over a soft t-shirt, and her leather jacket was tossed over a chair with
her purse.

“Come
on in,” she smiled, answering Chase’s knock. “Winston is cowering in the back
room.”

“Cowering?”

“He
had a rough start to life,” Lena explained. “So he’s a little afraid of people.”

“Vicious
dog, huh?”

She
grinned. “He’s a sweetie. And I’m sure he’d be vicious if anyone tried to break
in and steal his hot dogs.”

Chase
looked around him. “This is a nice place,” he said, and meant it. It was cozy
and warm, homey in a way that her parents’ house was not. Her furniture all
looked comfortable and even a bit worn, and her shelves were filled with books
and with amazing-looking pieces that she must have picked up on her travels
years ago.

“Thanks.
It’s home. Feel free to take a look around while I rustle up a dog for you to
meet.”

So
while Lena disappeared into the back room with a bag of dog treats as a bribe,
Chase wandered around. The kitchen was clean and organized, but obviously
well-used. The color scheme throughout the apartment was bright and bold, and
it worked. Chase never would have pictured Charlene living in a place like
this, but it was quintessential Lena, he realized.

Turning
around at a small noise behind him, Chase looked down into the face of the
cutest dog he had ever seen in his life. Bigger than he’d thought, Winston was
about 50 pounds, and most of it muscle. His brow was furrowed, like he was
trying to figure out the world, and none of it made sense. Lena was behind him,
smiling down at the dog and murmuring soft words of encouragement.

Chase
got down on his haunches and stretched one hand slowly out toward the dog. Winston
inched closer. Lena moved around and put a small piece of hot dog in his hand.
“Try this,” she said. “Break off really small pieces, though.”

And
so Chase slowly fed Winston half a hot dog. It took a while, and Winston backed
away as much as he moved forward, but by the time he’d emptied his hand of the
treats, Winston allowed him a small scratch on the head before skittering away.