Home for Christmas (6 page)

“Truly?” he answered, eyebrows
raised, a smile beginning to emerge.

“But there are stipulations.”

“There always are,” he finished,
his smile growing even wider while gazing intently into her eyes. So much so
that she felt the sting of a growingly familiar blush blooming on her cheeks.

Clearing her throat and reaching
into her bag for her iPad, she willed her face to return to normal. It was a
little unnerving, his constant and appraising stare.

“Anyway,” she continued. “As I
said, I have stipulations …”

“As do I,” he replied.

That gave her pause, as he had
intended, no doubt.

“And they are?”

He leaned back on the stool,
smiling at her. “Oh … I need to hear yours first.”

In that moment, Savannah considered
getting up and walking out that door, back to her familiar world, back to where
she was on firm ground, surefooted and secure. She didn’t especially enjoy
people who played games. In her business, she’d never made time for them. She
felt like Austin was playing them at her expense.

“Mr. Douglass,” she uttered coolly.
“You don’t know me very well. I understand you work in a very,
very
casual environment. I know there are little to no rules in your world, but I
come from a structured background, and a successful background, I might add. I
am not a flunky, just trying to get my foot in the door. To be honest, I don’t
need you or your project.”

Austin’s eyes never left hers. In
spite of himself, he was impressed. He’d thought she would have spent countless
minutes detailing her successes, bragging about her connections, her
worthiness. All of which was unnecessary. He knew how successful she’d been
before the economy had taken a twist. He knew also what she was worth today.
And more importantly, he knew why.

Impressively, he knew that one of
the reasons she’d been left with next to nothing was her generosity to the many
life-long employees that had worked for her company. In the end, she’d
distributed what little profit was left of the business, gave them full
retirement benefits instead of taking what was rightfully hers. And so yes, he
knew that actually, she did need him and his money. But generosity was a shared
trait, and he knew a little about respect. He wouldn’t push her. He’d have fun
with her, but he’d be careful.

“Okay, so you are or are not taking
the project?” he asked, determinedly schooling his features into something that
resembled a neutral expression.

Consternated, she chewed on her
bottom lip. “I gave you an affirmative answer, but part of me still wishes I
hadn’t.”

“I can understand that,” he
answered, extending a little compassion.

“To you, it’s just another piece of
property, another mountain to climb, another project to launch. To me, it
involves my entire life history. One that I had wanted and determined to move
away from and start new.”

“Savannah,” he interrupted. “I
don’t know a lot about history and heritage. I’ve never had a lot of patience
with that sort of thing. Because,” he said, raising his voice slightly to ward
off her forthcoming and immediate response, “I’ve never had any history worthy
of holding on to.” He bristled when a look of compassion crossed her flawless
complexion.

“Listen,” he continued, “I
understand that this may not be the easiest thing for you, or anyone to do, and
I really appreciate you taking it on. I want to minimize any embarrassment you
may feel—“

“Embarrassment? I have no
embarrassment.” At his confused expression, she continued. “This has nothing to
do with embarrassment. Slightly awkward? I suppose that could happen,” she
admitted reluctantly. “No, what’s hard is to give all of it up only to go back
and relive and recreate what for me can never be again. Do you understand?”

“I think so.”

“So … are you ready for my
stipulations?” she questioned, glad to move the conversation away from what was
becoming too personal and very revealing.

He nodded with a smile, equally
glad to move beyond the emotions that to him belonged squarely in the past.

“Okay,” she replied showing a spark
of enthusiasm. Retrieving her iPad, she launched into her so-called
stipulations. “It’s going to be really tight, but I’m confident I can get the
house furnished and ready in a couple of weeks.” He nodded, pulling up his
calendar on the tablet in front of him.

“But,” she continued, “this is
where the stipulations come in.” She smiled at the uncertain look crossing his
face. “I’m going to need to spend some time with you in order to accomplish
that.”

“Why!” he demanded. The outburst
was quickly followed by a quirky smile, “It’s not that I’m opposed to spending
time with a beautiful woman, but I don’t do shopping if that’s what you’re
suggesting.”

“You’re very astute, Mr. Douglass,”
she replied, a wry smile emerging. “If I’m going to furnish that house for you,
I have to know a few things about your preferences in order to make this home a
place where you’ll be comfortable.” And at his dubious expression, she
continued, “After all, you can’t just purchase one of Seattle’s leading
historic homes, throw a few sticks of furniture in the mix and then start
inviting the old families over for coffee and by the way, can you invest in my
company, too.”

Sheepishly, he looked down at the
top of his desk. “I get that.”

“If you’re not comfortable in that
house, it will show. I need to know what you like.”

“Well, look around,” he said a
little exasperated.

“It can’t look like this,” she said
determinedly. “Listen, all I need is an afternoon, an evening, maybe two. I
need to see where you’re living now, get a sense of what you’ll be taking with
you and I can handle it from there.”

Again, he checked his calendar.
“That’s doable. I’m in town tonight and Friday. That still gives you some time
after that.”

“Good,” she replied quickly taping
it into her own calendar.

“I’m sure the other stipulations
have to do with your fee and budget,” he finished while retrieving a paper
stacked on a crate in the corner.

“They don’t.”

“They should,” he countered. And as
she took a moment to scan the sheet, she was momentarily taken back. It was an
enormous sum of money, more than she needed, more than it would require.

“I don’t need all of this,” she
began.

“Use what you need,” he cautioned.
“It needs to be done well and you more than anyone else knows what it will
take. That budget includes house setup as well as an entertaining budget. I
know you’ll need to hire staff.”

“Still,” she said, awed.

“We’ll balance everything in
January. Now, if we’re good for now, I need to get back to that meeting.”

Savannah quickly stood, forgetting
for the moment the other things she had on her mind. “Of course, oh, where do
you want to meet tonight?”

“Here’s my number – text me and let
me know where. Sevenish?” he questioned over his shoulder as he quickly exited
the office.

“Yes,” she said to the empty space.
And for the first time, she took a detailed look around. No pictures, no clue
as to who occupied this office. Personless, she thought. That would have to
change and quickly.

At 6:45 that evening, Savannah
waited for Austin at one of her favorite fusion restaurants in the heart of the
city near furniture showrooms she wanted him to walk through. Thoroughly
immersed in her lists, she had no idea she was being observed.

Austin watched Savannah chew on the
end of her pencil. She was the epitome of sophisticated elegance, at a glance.
But when one took the time to allow the glance to linger, one might see
something very different. One might see something they, meaning
he
,
really didn’t want to see. Someone to whom he, or
they
, might find
themselves becoming more than just a little attracted to.

He recognized himself in her.
Traits, desires, ambition and drive. Though they might take on unique forms and
expressions, at their essence, they were more similar than not. He recognized
the determination, the drive, the zeal for everything she did. Knowing her
history helped him see through the persona she gave the rest of the world. And
for some reason, he felt compelled to shed a little of that
persona
.

“Drinks?” he questioned at her
elbow.

“No thanks … oh, it’s you,” she
quipped when finally looking up from her notes.

“I’m glad I have a smidgen of
confidence left after that,
Oh, it’s you
line. You could injure some
guys’ egos that way.”

Savannah smiled. “I’m not worried
about your, ah, ego,” she teased. “I’m more worried about your stamina.”

“Uh … I’m almost afraid to ask.
Nightmares of shopping, endless decorating discussions. They tried that on me
when we built the new high-rise. Decorating stuff. I wouldn’t budge and I had
zero input.”

She looked skeptical. “Zero input?
I find that hard to believe Mr. C.E.O. I’ve heard your reputation discussed and
somehow
hands off
was not an expression used when describing you.”

“It’s true. Lois handled
everything,” he shrugged, amused at her disbelief.

“However, you’ve issued a
challenge—“

“I did not,” she exclaimed,
defending herself with a smile.

“You questioned my stamina and as
far as I’m concerned, it was phrased in the form of a challenge. Miss
Wentworth, as I’m sure you’ve guessed, I can be very competitive.”

Eyes brightening, she replied, “And
so can I, Mr. Douglass.” Somehow, everything had just gotten a bit more
interesting, on both sides.

For the next hour, Savannah and
Austin spent an enjoyable time getting to know each other.  Well matched socially
and equally conversant, they found a comfort level in each other’s company. And
to their respective delight, found much in common. In fact, with the dim light
hiding the ever-increasing rainfall, the fantastic food, the real wood fire
crackling nearby, the atmosphere brought a coziness to their little corner
table that each found they were reluctant to leave.  

But all too soon, the dinner plates
had been cleared, desert refused and the after dinner beverage consumed,
Savannah urged they begin their mission.

Shortly thereafter, they found
themselves on the now dark and chilly streets of Seattle, bustling down the
tree lined streets near Pioneer Square in search of treasures, antiques and
art. And it was only the beginning as Savannah traipsed Austin from one side of
the city to the next.

Albeit reluctantly, as the shopping
continued, Austin began to show some interest, soon offering opinions and even
ideas in the purchases they were making. It had been intriguing to Savannah as
she watched his reluctance grow into acceptance to even covert enjoyment as he
contemplated making purchases that he and he alone would enjoy.

After the shopping trip, Savannah
refined her idea of Austin’s style. Although he would categorically deny it, he
did have one. Style, that is. He was consistently drawn to modern artifacts;
lines, shapes, art; yet those leanings were softened by an interest that had a
decidedly vintage twist. She was learning more about him than he would ever
know. Perhaps things he wouldn’t even admit to himself. Enlightening.

At their first meeting at his
office, she had categorized him almost immediately as a complete minimalist.
Tonight, however, she was pleasantly surprised to find that assumption mellowed
as he showed a decided respect for the craftsmanship of the past. He wasn’t
opposed to placing some interesting antiques alongside some of the more modern
choices. And in so doing, the selections she suggested met with hearty
approval. And while she wouldn’t go completely modern with the stately estate
they were furnishing, she was then able to steer him, in some choices, toward a
more traditional approach with soft contemporary fabrics and textures. It was
more fun than she’d had in a long, long time.

The evening was waning, the store
lights flickering as employees and proprietors began closing their storefronts.
The design district, while never completely dark, had a cozy glow about it as
they walked back to Savannah’s SUV.

“Care for a walk?” Austin casually
asked as they neared her vehicle.

“Truly? I thought we’d been walking
all night?” she replied, giving him an excuse to back out of his suggestion if
he’d just offered out of politeness.

“No, really! I need to clear my
head after all that color, fabric, dimensional stuff we were inundated with back
there,” he replied, vaguely gesturing to the design showrooms they had vacated.

Savannah diligently tried to stifle
her spontaneous chuckle. It was actually refreshing, his detachment to all
things, well, showy. So many men in her world were very well-versed on current
styles, impressions those styles made on those around them and how, in
particular, they made them appear to colleagues and those around them. Truth be
told, she was tired of it all.

Some people were born to, well,
style. Her parents, for instance. It was something that just came naturally to
them, like a well-fitting glove. But to so many others, it was merely contrived
to bolster a somewhat feeble self-confidence. At least, that was her opinion.
To meet someone who truly didn’t care what label he was wearing or how much he
spent on a sectional was delightful. It was real. And after her ordeal with the
closing of her business, real was something she needed as much as she needed
air.

Seconds, perhaps minutes had passed
while Savannah mulled over those thoughts.

“How about another time, then?”
Austin questioned as he led her toward her vehicle.

“No!” she exclaimed immediately, “I
mean, no, I would also appreciate a walk to clear my head as well. Sorry, I was
still, ah, thinking about those last fabric choices.”

“Okay, enough of all that. No more
conversation about any of it tonight? Promise?” he pleaded to her infinite
amusement.

The conversation that had come so
easily during dinner returned. So comfortable they were becoming in each
other’s presence after an evening as intimate as shopping for furniture; for
all rooms of the house.

Before long, they found themselves
at the waterfront shops along Elliot Bay. This was a place that definitely
wasn’t sleepy yet. Despite the chill in the air and the occasional rain shower;
locals and tourists were ambling down the piers.

“Have you ridden the Great Wheel
yet?” he questioned nodding in the direction of the 175-foot wheel extending
almost forty feet beyond the pier.

“My father has known Hal Griffith,
the man who built the wheel, for decades. You know, he had a dream of building
that wheel for more than thirty years but there was always some roadblock that
prevented it. And it wasn’t until just recently that he had the idea of putting
it out on the pier, one that, incidentally, he owned.”

“Fascinating story. I’ve been
pretty wrapped up in what we’ve been doing. I hadn’t heard it. Inspiring
though, huh? Never give up on your dream; it might be easier to accomplish than
you know.” He glanced sideways at Savannah as they paused at the railing
overlooking Puget Sound and the Great Wheel beyond. Her eyes never leaving the
wheel as it slowly rotated over the inky black waters. He would give anything
to know her thoughts, and that alone frightened him as nothing else could have.

“So? Are you up to it?”

“To what?” she questioned, drawn
back to the present, glancing into his eyes that were dancing with challenge.

“The wheel.”

“Oh, yes, the wheel.” She shrugged
her shoulders with a smile. “I guess, if you are?”

“Not afraid of heights I hope?” he
questioned with a quirky smile. And she shook her head a little self
consciously, because sometimes she was … and that was a fear no one, not even
her parents had know about her. She sometimes made excuses when asked to dine
at the top of the Space Needle with friends. It hadn’t always worked, but she
was always a little relieved when it did.

“Wait here and I’ll see how long
it’s running,” he said patting her arm before jogging down the pier. 
Returning almost seconds later, smiling broadly while waving their tickets.

As they made their way toward the
entrance gate, she realized they were being escorted to the front of the long
waiting line. After a sideways glance at his smiling face, she knew he was up
to something.

As the gondola slowly eased into
position, she realized that theirs looked different than the others. Austin
proudly escorted her into the cubicle as the doors effortlessly slid shut.

“Why is ours different?” she
questioned as they quickly sat down in two of the four leather bucket seats.
“Oh,” she exclaimed as they began rotating toward the water, “It has a glass
floor!”

“Isn’t it cool?” he questioned,
leaning forward in his seat like a teenager. “Wow, just look at the skyline!
This is the VIP Gondola,” he explained offhandedly. “It’s the only one on the
Wheel.”

And then, they were launched into
space, yards above the midnight black water below, Savannah held her breath and
conversation ceased. The city loomed, the lights twinkled as they were encased
in their own private glass encased gondola, enjoying the magical moment of the
city they both loved, sparkling and refreshed by the recent rains. So caught up
in the magnificent view, she forgot to be nervous.

Before long, he laid his land on
top of hers resting on the arm rest before sliding down to capture her hand in
his. Her heart stopped beating as the warmth of his hand encased hers. And then
it accelerated and thumped so loudly she truly thought he might be able to hear
it.

Never in a lifetime would she forget
this moment. While she would not allow herself to get involved with him, on any
level except for business, she would cherish this moment. A moment where she
knew that, at least for a few minutes, everything in her world was taken care
of. And it had been so long since someone had taken care of her.

To be fair, Courtney had offered a
life preserver by insisting she move in with her. But this …
this
was
something dreams were made of, something most women, even if they never
admitted it, could never be immune to. This moment was about a very attractive
man who was treating her like …
well
… a princess, someone …
special
.
Offering her,
for tonight
; protection and care. She had to work very
hard to hide her welling tears. That he wasn’t the kind of guy who was
comfortable with emotion, was evident. She quickly blinked her eyes furiously
to clear them. This moment was a gift she didn’t want to ever forget or
tarnish.

After about three rotations of the
Great Wheel, Savannah and Austin debarked and without consultation headed
toward her parked SUV. He had never let go of her hand. One tucked snuggly into
her coat pocket, the other tucked warmly into his.

They approached her vehicle and
Savannah began to feel awkward. She wasn’t sure how to proceed. She wasn’t used
to men holding her hand, strangely enough. It was something Robert never done.
He was opposed to public displays of any kind.

Savannah had dated only Robert.
Because their families were close, they had become close friends as well. It
had been somewhat
expected
and both Savannah and Robert had just gone
along with the plan. Although she had no great passion for him, she loved him
with a kind of love she didn’t allow herself to examine too closely. He was
safe, and known. Austin was none of the above. And she would never admit in a
thousand years that no man had ever held her hand.

“Okay, Miss Wentworth,” Austin
spoke as they neared her car. He reached for her keys and unlocked the driver’s
door. “Thank you for all the work you’re doing on the house. It’s going to be
great and I know it will be an effective tool for the IPO launch.” His words
seemed to throw a cool professionalism between them that hadn’t been there
since before dinner. Savannah was relieved because finally she was on a footing
that was very comfortable.

But as she drove away with a wave
and a promise to catch up the following afternoon, she vigorously tamped down
an unbidden regret that it couldn’t have been more. She wouldn’t go there, she
promised herself.