Pale Stranger (PALE Series) (5 page)

He shrugged. "I needed a refill of my sunscreen, and I dislike having an unfinished chore at the end of the day."

"And you sure did pick a day to do it!" I laughed, remembered that wild storm.

Benson smiled. "Perhaps it was fate that brought us together."

"No, I'm pretty sure it was one hell of a lightning storm," I countered. I glanced at my watch and sighed. "If we're going to finish our little walk before that phone call we're going to have to start moving."

I dragged him along and he explained to me all the types of trees that stood in the yard and the flowers that sometimes edged the path. It was all riveting stuff for a botanist, but I was just a simple diner waitress and was glad when we wound our way back to the house. He looked glad to get out of the sun, and take off his heavy coat and hat on the porch. We stood there for a few quiet moments and enjoyed the coolness of the shade. "I must have bored you a great deal to make you so quiet."

"You don't pay me to talk, do you?" I wondered.

"I don't believe we discussed money at all for this experiment. I can pay you the full salary if that's what you want," he offered.

"If you really want to." I couldn't turn down easy money.

He grinned. "Would a very nice salary guarantee your staying here?"

I shrugged and crossed my arms over my chest. "That depends on whether I like it here or not. You could pay me all the money in the world, but if I'm not happy I won't stay."

"Then you're happy working at that diner?" he wondered in surprise.

"I'm comfortable with what I do and the boss won't dare fire me. He knows the place would blow up if I wasn't around to keep Sheila from accidentally turning on the kitchen stoves." I looked him up and down, and grinned. "Besides, you meet some pretty interesting people at those places."

He glanced down at himself. "At least unusual, but I see on your watch that it's almost time for my meeting. If you don't mind I'd like to be alone during the phone conversation."

My prayers were answered; I wouldn't be bored to tears listening in on a stodgy business meeting. "That's all right, I'll just look around the house. If you don't see me in an hour send in a rescue party."

"I promise to lead the party myself." Benson surprised me by lifting my hand to his lips and planting a soft, warm kiss on my skin. "Adieu for now, my Angel."

I stuttered out a nonsensical reply and he left me for his business. I didn't recover from the shock for a few minutes, and when I did I found my face was beet-red and the hand he'd kissed shook. I pressed it against my chest and fervently shook my head; I had to snap out of this schoolgirl attitude. He was just fond of me for being so nice to him, that's all. The poor fellow probably hadn't had a conversation with a stranger in years.

I opted to stay out of the creaky old house to keep from interrupting, or becoming a participant in, the phone meeting. Instead I wandered around the side of the house and came out at the circular driveway. At that moment I heard wheels on the gravel and saw a fancy black car pull up behind mine. A tall man of forty-five with gray-swept hair and a fancy suit stepped out. He frowned first at my car, and then at me when he noticed where I stood beside the front porch. "Hello there," he called out to me.

"Hi," I called back, and stepped out of the shadows of the house to greet him. I was Benson's secretary, after all; you couldn't spell secretary without security. Well, actually you could, but I felt a little possessive of my employer. He was a nice guy, after all. Yeah, that's it... "Can I help you?"

"I wanted to know if it was true that Constance Sievers quit this morning," he wondered. He was giving me a careful look-over that made me slightly hostile to him.

"I'm not sure what happened, but Mr. Benson is in a phone meeting and can't talk right now. If you'd like to leave a message with me I can give it to him," I assured him. I felt so grown-up talking to the guy like that; it almost made me squeal.

He firmly shook his head and shot down my self-importance. "If it's true that Miss Sievers is no longer in his employ then I must see who is."

"Well, I'm kind of in his employ right now," I replied.

The man blinked in bewilderment. "You?" He leaned his tall frame toward me and I leaned my short one back. "How old are you, Miss-?"

"Calhoun." And old enough to know he was invading my personal space.

"What is your age, Miss Calhoun?" he rephrased the question.

"Astral or physical?" I countered.

The poor man had another look of confusion on his face. "Astral?" he repeated.

"Yes. In a past life I was a three-legged dog."

"Cecil!" a voice cried from the porch, breaking off our weird conversation. Our heads snapped over to the front door and we saw Benson standing at the edge of the steps just out of the sunlight. He didn't look happy to see the man named Cecil. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Cecil straightened, and frowned at Benson. "I was informed by the secretarial service that Miss Sievers had quit her job."

"Not quit, fired," Benson corrected him. "And I won't need you to find me another. This woman here will suit me perfectly."

Poor befuddled Cecil whipped his head between us, and pointed an accusatory finger at me. "This girl? You wish to have this girl as your secretary?"

"Why not? If she's been talking to you for a few minutes she must have some spunk," Benson pointed out.

I puffed up at the praise; Cecil withered me again with his glare, and he shot one at Benson so murderous I don't know how the bullet deflected off him; it must have been his stoic manner. "We must have a discussion immediately," Cecil demanded.

Benson stepped aside and swept his arm toward the open door. Cecil stomped in, and Benson turned to me. "You can stay out here if you wish, or come inside and explore the house."

"Explore the house, I think Cecil just wilted all the flowers out here," I quipped.

CHAPTER 5

Benson followed me inside, and led Cecil into the study. I was curious to know what was going to happen to my now-precarious position, and snuck down the passage. The idea to hide on the other side of the door was nixed when I remembered what Benson had done to Sievers' eavesdropping; I wouldn't make the same mistake. The old walls of that house were thin, so I tiptoed into the living room, wincing at every creak beneath my feet, and stuck my ear against the wall that separated that room from the study. Their voices came through like they were standing on the other side of a paper-thin wall, which they were.

"That was quite a show, Cecil. Did you mean to scare the girl half to death?" I heard Benson ask his guest.

"If she scared that easily than she didn't deserve to be your secretary," Cecil laughed. My hands balled into fists; now I saw Cecil's game. He'd been testing me with that gruff attitude. "Why did you pick this one?"

There was hesitation from Benson. "She was kind to me," he finally explained

Cecil scoffed. "It's a good thing you don't get out much. You'd find many women would be kind to you if they knew who you were. Did she know who you were and how much money you had before you took her on?"

"I don't think so, but that hardly matters now. She's been hired."

"I beg to differ, it matters most especially now that she's been hired," Cecil argued. "She may ingratiate herself with you to acquire your money."

"Like Constance?" Benson bitterly replied. "She tried very well to ingratiate herself with me, and when she saw I was having none of it she became belligerent."

"And that's when she quit," Cecil finished.

"That's when I
fired
her. If she's saying otherwise then she's lying," Benson shot back.

Cecil sighed; it was great enough to be a category one hurricane force wind. "She was only with you for a year, John. You're getting worse," Cecil scolded.

"
They're
getting worse," Benson countered. "And at least with this new girl I won't be dealing with that agency. Nothing but worthless, greedy women who take me on to get at my money."

"Perhaps like this girl. Do you know anything about her? What's her name?" Cecil asked him.

"Didn't she tell you?"

"She said Calhoun, but didn't give me a first name."

"Her first name is, well..."

"You don't know it, do you?"

"I haven't asked yet," Benson briskly replied.

Another exasperated sigh from Cecil. "That's quite an achievement considering you've already hired her for a position as your personal secretary. What do you call her, Girl?"

"That's none of your business, and it never should have been. You were my guardian until I was twenty-one, but no more," Benson replied. "My business is now solely my business."

"I only mean well for my only nephew," Cecil insisted. I cringed; what an uncle. "And as your nearest living relative I only want you to be happy."

"Then stop bothering me!" Benson bellowed out.

I was startled by his outburst and jumped away from the wall. My shoulder knocked against the wallpaper and made a thud sound through the hollow partition. The voices in the other room quieted. "Did you hear something?" Cecil asked Benson.

I crept as quickly as I could out of the living room, but the hurried footsteps of my boss crossed down the hall and caught me before I could slip to the other side of the house. He grabbed my wrist in a painful grip and twisted me around. Those bright blue eyes were flames of anger that melted my courage. He shook me hard enough to jolt my marbles loose. "What are you doing? Were you listening in on us?" I meekly nodded my head; I was never a good liar. "Why?"

"I-I just wanted to see what would happen to my job." Cecil came up behind Benson, and I nodded at him. "He said he didn't want me around, so I thought you'd get rid of me." Then my dream of supporting myself through college would end and I'd be forced to live with my mother, or get a dull butter knife from my apartment and commit seppuku; I was leaning toward the butter knife.

Benson turned his sharp eyes on Cecil, who was surprised to see the look aimed at him. "If you hadn't scared her she wouldn't have been listening at us."

Cecil raised an eyebrow. "You think so?"

"Yes," Benson firmly responded.

Uncle Cecil was taken aback by Benson's quick reply. He glanced between us, me still wiggling and quivering in Benson's strong grasp. The pale man was stronger than he looked, even with all the muscles I'd seen. A smirk curled onto Cecil's lips. "I see."

Benson didn't like that look; neither did I. There was a hint of lecherousness in it. "What do you see?" Benson asked him.

"I see that I shouldn't be intruding any longer," Cecil added. He stepped back and gave us both a deep bow. "I can see three's a crowd in this house, and wish you, Benson, happy hunting."

I was perplexed by his dramatic change in attitude and Benson was angry, but Cecil swept outside before either of us could stop him. We raced onto the porch and were in time to see Cecil drive by the front of the house and wave to us. I weakly waved back, but Benson scowled at his uncle long after the car had driven out of sight. I glanced over to him. "Any idea what he was talking about just now?"

"Just the foolish prattle of an old man..." Benson grumbled. He stomped back inside and I scampered after him. He strode down the hall to the study, and I took it as a good sign when he didn't slam the door in my face. Instead I followed him inside and found myself surrounded by old shelves full of older books. There was a large desk opposite the door that sat in front of large paned windows. They were covered in thick black cloth, but that didn't dampen the effect of their size behind the person who sat behind the desk. There was also a world globe so large I could have set myself on its top and spun around; I promised myself a ride on it later if I wasn't fired on the spot.

"I'm really sorry about eavesdropping on you. I didn't mean to do any harm," I apologized.

Benson plopped down into his large leather chair and sighed; he gestured to the one opposite him on the other side of the desk. I gulped big enough to swallow a small lake and sat down. "How much did you overhear?" he asked me. I couldn't tell if he was angry, annoyed, or constipated.

I sank down into the chair. "Everything?" I squeaked out.

He leaned back in his chair and stared at me for several minutes without speaking. The wheels behind those sky-blue eyes turned as he decided my fate; to toss my curious ass out or not to toss my curious ass out. Finally he sighed and ran his hand down his face. "What trouble these last few days have been..." he murmured to himself.

"You're telling me," I quipped.

Benson glanced up at me through his fingers and raised an eyebrow. "I do wonder after that transgression how much I can tell you, Angel," he countered.

My heart sank to the bottom of the Marianas Trench; I hated disappointing people when it really was my fault. "I'm sorry, I really am. I was just so worried about losing this job and my college bills that I guess I just-"