In the Eye of the Storm (2 page)

Yes, her chestnut hair was down and longer than he would have thought it was but there was something else.  Studying her face it finally hit him; “Your glasses.  You’re not wearing your glasses.”  Without them, he could see high cheekbones and what he could only imagine to be silky smooth, creamy complexion.  He stopped his hand from reaching out.

“Oh, yeah, well…um…I don’t really need them,” she stammered, uncomfortable with the way he was watching her.  “I mean, they have a tiny prescription to them and I use them more for when I have some eye strain.”

“You wear them every day,” he stated.

“Yes, well, with the amount of time I spend on the computer, it just makes sense to keep them on.”

“Oh.”

They sat in silence for less than a minute before Holly finally looked away and put the car back in gear and headed towards Stephen’s house.  Glancing at the GPS she noticed how far away it was.  “Thirty miles!” she cried.  “Stephen…” Holly whined.  She was ready to start arguing again but realized that there was no point in it.  She would get him home, get herself home – probably somewhere around five a.m. - but luckily it was Saturday so she could sleep all day if she wanted.  Well, that is, if
he
didn’t call her with any work-related issues. 

“I’m sorry, Holly.  Believe me when I tell you that this was so
not
the way I saw the night going either.”

“Well I would hope not.”  She sighed at her own snippy tone and decided to
try
and be pleasant.  “So what happened?  What did you fight with the guys about?  It had to be pretty intense for them to just leave you there.”  When he didn’t answer, Holly prodded a little bit more.  “I mean, I can’t imagine you guys fighting at all.  You seem to always be laughing and having a good time when you’re together.” 

Not taking the bait, he simply replied, “Like I said earlier, I don’t want to talk about it.”

By silent agreement, they dropped the subject and drove the rest of the way without speaking another word.  The only sounds came from the rain pelting the car and the roar of thunder. 

When Holly finally turned in to his subdivision, she gasped with surprise.  With nothing more than the light of the street lamps, she could tell that the homes were beautiful.  Large wooded lots gave way to homes that took her breath away.  They passed a rather large looking lake on the right side of the road and Holly saw what looked like a gazebo off in the distance.  At the prodding of the GPS, she turned in to Stephen’s driveway and had to stifle another gasp.  His home, once you drove up the winding drive, was very rustic looking with tons of stone facing and cedar shake shingles.  Colors could not be clearly defined but Holly knew it would be stunning.  As much as she hated having to be here at this ungodly hour, suddenly she wanted to get out and explore – rain and all.

Stopping the car directly in front of his door, she waited for him to climb out.  It seemed that Mother Nature had decided to wait for that exact moment to throw more high winds and now hale in to the mix.  “Great,” Holly mumbled, “more fun for the drive home.  Can’t this night just end?”  Her head slumped forward on to the steering wheel in defeat.

Without a word, Stephen reached across the car, turned the key and shut it off, taking the keys out of the ignition.  “Um, excuse me,” Holly chimed in a sing-song voice.  “What do you think you’re doing?  I can’t drive home without my keys.”

“You can’t drive home at all in this.  It’s almost three-thirty in the morning and the weather’s gotten worse.  I may have been an inconsiderate bastard thus far, but I’m hoping to remedy that right now.  I have five extra bedrooms, Holly; you can take your pick and sleep.  I’ve kept you out and awake long enough.”  With that, he climbed out of the car and went to open the front door of the house.

Holly sat mutely for a minute.  Was the man for real?  Sleep at Stephen’s house?  Was that appropriate?  Should she protest?  It wasn’t like she was sleeping
with
Stephen; she was just sleeping
in
his house.  She could choose whichever bedroom was furthest from his and it would be fine, right?  Chewing her lip, she looked up and saw him leaning in the open doorway, half asleep and waiting.  Sighing with resignation, she pulled up her hood, climbed out and went to join him.

“Thank you,” she grumbled as she walked past him in to the house.  Stepping inside, Holley immediately kicked off her wet sneakers while she waited in the foyer for him to lead the way around. Within minutes she found herself walking up a grand, curved staircase before coming to stand in a room that was almost the size of the first floor of her own condo! 

Besides being massive in size, it was beautifully decorated.  Holly had decorated Stephen’s last home but this one he had purchased as the model home with all of the furnishings.  The back wall had a huge picture window with floor to ceiling drapes in shades of cream and taupe.  The bed, which looked the size of a small continent with four posters, stood along the middle of the right wall and was piled high with pillows in jewel tones.  The furniture was large and honey colored and Holly just wanted to sigh. 

“You have your own bathroom through here,” Stephen indicated, “and there are fresh towels in the closet.  There is soap, shampoo, toothbrushes and toothpaste all in there, as well, and a robe hanging on the back of the door.”  He stopped with hands on hips and glanced around the room as if making sure he wasn’t forgetting anything.  And then it hit him, “Wait here.”

He strode from the room and Holly peeled off her wet coat and was about to place it on the upholstered lounge chair that sat invitingly in the corner but then thought better of it – fearful of ruining it.  Glancing around for a better option, she walked in to the bathroom and just hung it over the shower curtain rod.  She came out of the bathroom just as Stephen was walking in with a small pile of clothes. 

“I figured you might want something other than wet sweats to sleep in.  There’s a t-shirt here, a flannel shirt, dry sweat pants…I wasn’t sure what you would be most comfortable in so I just grabbed a variety.”  He looked nervously at her as if he were handing her a hand-grenade rather than pajamas.

“That was very kind of you, thank you,” she said as she took the clothes from him and turned to place them on the bed.  Turning to wish him goodnight, Holly found him rooted to the spot staring at her.  They stood that way for countless minutes with only the ticking of an antique clock that was sitting on top of the dressing table before Holly finally whispered the words to him.  It had been a long night and having Stephen staring at her, had Holly feeling funny.  Surely it must be the exhaustion making her feel so…so…weird.  Him, too, she thought, because Stephen
never
stared at her.  Ever. 

Stephen nodded and pivoted towards the door.  With a hand on the handle he began to walk out and close it behind him when he stopped.  Holly was still standing next to the bed.  “The fight was about you,” he said quietly and closed the door.  There was no malice in the statement, no accusation or blame; he was merely answering her earlier question.

Holly wanted nothing more than to go after him and demand to know what exactly that meant.  Why would he fight with his two best friends about her?  She got along very well with both Will and Derek.  What could they possibly fight about?  But as much as her curiosity demanded to know, her sleep-deprived body won the battle of wills and forced her to change in to the t-shirt Stephen had given her.  Even though she had gone through her bedtime routine hours earlier, Holly felt the need to wash her face and brush her teeth one more time before taking on the task of moving the mountain of pillows so that she could crawl between the cool, silky sheets. 

The whole time she moved about, her thoughts stayed focused on Stephen’s last words to her.  God how she hated to be left hanging like that!  Like it wasn’t enough that she had trudged all over the place for him tonight?  He had to go and drop a bomb like that and just leave?  She glanced at the door for what seemed like the tenth time and then resigned herself to the inevitable - Her answers would have to wait until tomorrow morning.

Pulling back the plush comforter, she climbed in to the bed.  Snuggling in to the pillows and in to a comfortable position, her final thoughts were of the look of sadness on Stephen’s face as he had closed the door tonight.

What had that been about?  The man who she had dealt with in the last hour was hardly the confident, powerful man she worked with every day.  What could have possibly happened tonight to cause such a drastic change in his demeanor? 

If Holly could have stayed awake to analyze it anymore, she would have.  But the comfort of the bed and the extreme sleepiness took their toll.  She was unsure of the time before sleep claimed her. 

Chapter Two

The next morning Holly awoke well rested but slightly confused about her surroundings.  It did not take long, however, for it all to come back to her with blazing clarity and she groaned with remembrance.   Stephen.  The rain.  The fight.  The look.

That stupid, sad look.

Dammit.

Stretching lazily, Holly looked over at the clock and gasped when she realized it was after ten.  She couldn’t even remember the last time she had slept in so late on a Saturday.  Well, that was usually because Stephen had her on the phone by eight a.m. with some sort of project idea that he had come up with the night before.  Honestly, didn’t the man’s brain
ever
rest?

Apparently it had this morning because he hadn’t bothered her.  Okay, maybe his brain hadn’t rested but he was being polite enough to let her sleep in.  Was he even awake yet?  Holly kicked off the blankets and jumped at the sound of thunder as she padded her way to the bathroom.  In her exhaustion the night before, she had not taken in the opulence of it all – a marbled double vanity, a deep and wide garden tub, a shower that looked like it could bathe four people with a double shower head!  It was like staying at a five star hotel! 

Stripping out of the t-shirt Stephen had given her to sleep in, she grabbed some towels, stacked them outside of the shower and climbed in.  The hot water spray felt heavenly.  The soaps and shampoo were all brand new and from one of those designer bath shops that Holly never could afford to shop in.  Feeling completely decadent, she lathered up from head to toe – twice! – before getting out of the shower and drying off. 

She put the soft and fluffy spa-quality robe on while she brushed her teeth and went in search of a blow dryer to try and do something with her hair.  With thick hair that went past her shoulders, it would take forever to dry on its own; she most definitely needed to dry it with more than a towel.  Finding one under the sink, she did the best she could without her usual styling products and brushes and less than thrilled with the results, she put the dryer back where she found it. 

A quick look through her purse found a small variety of make up.  Luckily there had even been moisturizer in the well-stocked bathroom so by the time she put last night’s sweats back on – which luckily were now dry – she felt almost like her normal self.  One last look in the mirror told her what she already knew:  under normal circumstances, she would never, ever, go out in public like this.  But with no other choice, Holly straightened the room, grabbed her jacket and headed out of the door and down the stairs in search of Stephen.

At the bottom of the curved wooden staircase, Holly heard the sounds of plates being moved around.  If that hadn’t drawn her attention, the enticing smell of food would have helped her find her mark.  Silently walking in to the kitchen, she expected to find the housekeeper there making the food that was causing her stomach to growl.  Instead, she found Stephen.  The sight

of him dressed casually in flannel pajama pants and a t-shirt with his jet black hair still mussed from sleep and a days worth of stubble on his chin had Holly’s mouth going dry.  The normally impeccably dressed in a suit and tie Stephen who, in her opinion, looked like he was born to wear that ensemble, suddenly looked even better in his morning attire. 

Shaking her head clear of those wayward thoughts, she cleared her throat to get Stephen’s attention.  “Good morning,” she said and he replied in kind.

“Are you hungry?” he asked as he popped a couple of slices of bread in to the stainless steel toaster on the counter.  “I didn’t want to wake you but I was ravenous.”

“Sure.  What are we having?”

“Breakfast is the only meal that I can cook and, if I do say so myself, I cook it well.  I’ve got all of the makings of any kind of omelets you could want.”

Holly raised her eyebrows in surprise.  “Really?”
              “Really.”

“Okay,” she walked over to the butcher block island where he had all of his ingredients laid out and took it all in.  “I think I’ll have…hmmm…I think I’ll go with a Western one if that’s not too much trouble.”

In response, Stephen held up the omelet pan that was already on the stove.  “Great minds think alike,” he said with a smile and Holly felt he stomach dip.  Had he always had that dimple?  “Coffee’s already made.” He pointed to the coffee maker at the end of the counter.  “Mugs are in the cabinet right above it.”

Without a word, Holly helped herself and, as was habit, made his as well.  They worked together in silence and within minutes they were seated at the table overlooking the massive yard through the bay window. 

“I cannot believe that it’s still raining,” Holly said after thanking Stephen for the plate he handed her.  “I thought for sure it would have moved on by now.”

“I watched the weather report this morning and according to TV5, it’s going to be like this all weekend with the worst of it hitting this afternoon.”

Nearly choking on her food, Holly said, “Really?”

He nodded while sipping his coffee.  “Fraid so.  I don’t think anyone expected the storm front to stall over us.”  He nodded towards her plate which he’d loaded not only with the requested Western omelet, but home fries and toast.  “How’s your breakfast?”