Romance for Matthew

Romance
for Matthew

Published  By

Nancy Fornataro

* * * * *

Romance for Matthew

Copyright © 2012 by Nancy Fornataro

License Notes

This e
-
book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e
-
book may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient.

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

Adult Reading Material, Language and Situations

Readers, I found this a real challenge to write, as both characters had a unique set of problems. I hope you enjoy reading it! I'm hard at work on a
n
other
in this series of
r
omances.

*****

Romance for Matthew

Chapter 1

Bethany thought she was lost at first. She'd turned off the main highway, and followed the internet directions but made one wrong turn and had to backtrack to find the enormous sprawling ranch house smack in the middle of nowhere. However, she still arrived at nine o'clock, the scheduled meeting time on a beautiful, sunny Denver morning.

She pulled her car onto the long driveway and up to the house.

But, when she knocked on the heavy stained glass door, there was no response.

She tried again, while her thoughts went to Jacob, her baby. She sighed deeply. He was only six months old, and although her mother was caring for him back at their house, Bethany missed him already. She'd never experienced such a longing in her life. This was the first time she'd really been away from him for any length of time since he was born, and the thought of holding down a job with this wrenching pain inside her made her almost physically sick. Her stomach was in knots.

And now she quickly double-checked the front of her blouse almost in a panic, as she still breastfed him and was prone to leaks. But she thought everything was fine, so far, with her appearance and she hoped her good luck would continue.

She needed this job badly, as she was at the end of her savings. Having found the job through a temporary agency, she was to be the personal assistant to Matthew Hobbs. And she'd been pleasantly surprised at the salary, if he agreed to hire her. That was the main issue for her right now. Plus, they'd told her he was a man with 'special needs' and she wondered what that was all about. That would never bother her, though. People were unique, she thought, with their own set of challenges.

Frowning, she knocked again louder, thinking she should call the agency and ask them what to do.

Suddenly, a scratching noise sounded from inside the door, while she heard the latch flip open.

A man appeared, with a golden retriever on a leash, and his brown eyes stared at a point above her head.

"I'm Bethany Cox," she told him.

His gaze came back to her eyes now. "I've been hearing your knock, sorry you had to wait. Sometimes it takes me a while to get to the door. I'm Matthew Hobbs by the way."

She watched him, wondering why he'd have a hard time getting to the door and what about him was 'special needs.' Perusing him, she realized he was very handsome, with short clipped dark hair, warm brown eyes, high cheekbones and a square chin. He was rangy in build, wide at the shoulders, tan, and dressed in a black shirt, sleeves rolled up, and beige chino pants and boots. She thought he must be six feet, as, with her five-nine height, she still had to look up at him.

"That's all right," she told him. "The agency should have called you about me."

He smiled, "Yes. The personal assistant. Won't you come in?"

Moving past him into the large foyer, she looked around. "What a lovely home," she said softly. The scent of lemon furniture polish wafted in the air.

Before her was a curving, marble staircase and the hallway sported highly polished beige tiles. She peeked quickly into a living room area, which had hardwood floors, white overstuffed couches and chairs, with huge split leaf ferns in ceramic planters, a stone fireplace, large patterned throw rugs and picture windows. The effect was warm and cozy.

"Thank you," he said. "Please, follow me into the den. Just on your right, here."

Then she wondered why he had the dog with him, and she saw him reach out and touch the desk as he went by, around to the chair, which he grabbed by the chair arm. She thought it rather odd almost as if he was off balance.

The room was a huge den with multiple built-in bookshelves holding books and unusual pieces of art. On her right, a comfortable-looking burgundy overstuffed couch and ottoman sported a beautiful view of the mountains beyond. On her left was a large oak desk with two wing chairs in front.

He sat behind it, and said, "Please, sit down." And he waved her to one of the chairs in front of his desk. "Did the
y tell you about the position?"

"Not a whole lot," she admitted, before she sat down.

He smiled ruefully. "I guess they didn't tell you the main thing, then."

She shook her head. "They told me accounting experience and Excel knowledge. Other than that, I know nothing."

Still smiling, he admitted, "I am blind, Miss Cox."

Watching him, flabbergasted, she let out a small gasp. Trying to figure out what to say, and now understanding his need to touch objects, and having the dog with him, she just sat for a few seconds. "I'm so sorry," she said finally.

"No need to feel sorry," he said in a brisk tone. "I've reconciled myself to it. And I have Mutty here to help me." He petted the dog's head then reached in his pocket for a dog treat. "Also," he said, "people have told me my eyes follow them as if I can see. So, don't be fooled by that. I just see shadows, nothing else."

"Your dog is lovely," she said awkwardly, at a loss for words. Then, she opened her mouth for another 'I'm sorry' then caught herself just in time. And for the umpteenth time, she wondered what The Lord had in mind for them all, even turning this man blind. W
hat was the point? she thought.

All the suffering in the world, not to mention her own, as her husband Samuel lay dying in front of her five months ago. His had been a slow, painful death from cancer, but she tried to always remember the delight in his eyes as he'd held tiny Jacob for the first time. It made it all a little more bearable. And, when he passed over, she was with him along with their son sleeping in his arms. Her bitterness against The Lord grew, now, along with the silence in the room.

"Still interested in the position, Miss Cox?" he said softly, breaking into her reverie.

"Yes, of course." She searched in her briefcase. "Would you like to hear my resume?" She caught herself in time, almost ready to hand it to him.

"Very much," he said in the same soft tone.

She read him off her job positions and skills at each one, skirting around the dates. She didn't want him to know about Jacob, or he might not want her for the position. At times, children might throw a cog in work
ing relationships, she thought.

"I can work a bit of overtime if needed," she said, ending it up, "but I'd prefer not to. I have a rather active social life."

Then she felt bad for lying about that. She had no social life, nor did she want one. For her, no one could replace her husband, ever. He was her true love and they'd dated all through high school. She'd resolved deep inside herself to raise Jacob on her own.

"I can understand that," he said. "Now, if you can bear with me, can you tell me your approximate age and what you look like? Just so I can get a better picture of you in my mind." Then he laughed, "Hopefully I'm not breaking any laws asking you that."

At first, she wasn't going to tell him her age then she relented.  After all, she thought, what difference did it make in the long run? "I'm twenty-five. I have brown curly hair down to my shoulders, green eyes and I weigh around one-thirty." Actually, she weighed a bit less, as she'd lost many pounds when her husband died, but that was her usual weight.

"And what are you wearing today, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Um, navy blue slacks, a light blue long-sleeved silk shirt, a necklace and navy heels."

He smiled, while his eyes appeared to be focused on something in the corner of the room. "Got it. I like your perfume; it has a very sweet fragrance."

That surprised her, and she just said nothing. It seemed a bit personal, and she thought he'd been personal enough for one day. But then, with his blindness she assumed his other senses were more acute.

"So," he said, after a brief pause, "can you start today? I have some spreadsheets I need you to check. I'll understand if you can't stay for a full day, if you have a family or husband waiting at home."

"Yes, I can start and work until two, if that's all right. What would the hours be usually?" Her relief, when she realized she had the job, was palpable.

"What would you prefer?"

"How about eight to four with a half-hour lunch? There aren't many food places out this way, so I'll need to bring my own lunch I think."

He waved his hand. "Don't worry about that. I'll tell my housekeeper to just set an extra place for lunch."

"Oh I couldn't-"

"I insist. Also, I know it's a long way out here, so I'll also include a gasoline allowance for you."

"That would be wonderful," she said, not wanting to appear argumentative, "thank you so much."

"What do you like to be called, Miss Cox?"

"Beth is fine, or Bethany. Whichever you prefer."

"That's a lovely name. I like Bethany."

She smiled. But then she realized one of her breast pads had let a leak through, which showed a small spot on her blouse. Not thinking, she held the paper to her chest until she remembered he couldn't see her. "Might I use your restroom before we begin?"

"I'm sorry, I forgot to tell you, it's down the hall on the left-hand side. Just take your time, I'm in no rush."

After she found the bathroom, Bethany hurriedly grabbed her pump, and relieved both her breasts. Thankfully, she thought, at least she wasn't running out of breast milk for Jacob. At her house, there was plenty in the refrigerator, so her mother just had to warm it. Then the feeling came to her again, an intense ache for her little son. And tears filled her eyes before spilling on her cheeks, while she poured her milk down the drain.

But she tried to console herself with the thought that she'd only be away from him for several more hours today, as she wiped her eyes and blew her nose. She'd make up some excuse to leave early today. Matthew had mentioned it, so she'd take him up on that.

Exiting the bathroom, hoping no one else was in the large house to notice her slightly damp blouse front, she found Matthew still sitting in the den. He'd turned on his computer, a laptop, but she thought he obviously couldn't see it. However, she noticed as she walked up, it had Braille letters on the keys. And suddenly, a synthesized voice from the computer said, "Input password please."

"I have a special program in here," he told her, gesturing towards it, "but it still nails me from time to time, if I put in a wrong password. Other than that, it's very helpful in my life."

"How did you know I was here in the room again?" she asked him curiously, as she stood by the desk.

He smiled at her. "Your perfume."

She flushed at that. "I'm sorry, I must be wearing too much."

"Not at all," he said smoothly. "At any rate, here is the password." Grabbing a blank sheet of paper from the printer on his desk, he wrote a series of letters and numbers for her, while his hand perused the edges of the paper. "Not really high tech, but it keeps the riffraff out," he joked.

"I'll just keep it in my briefcase," she said, clicking it open. "I also have a laptop if you need me to work from home," she said. It had set her back a pretty penny, but she thought it was best to have one. Plus, she'd saved thirty photos on it of Jacob along with just as many of Samuel, to take out and look at during her breaks.

"Very good. All right, can you come behind the desk? I'll stand for now while we look at the files." He felt the edge of the desk and stood by the printer.

"Should I sit, then?" she asked, a bit uncomfortable at his close proximity.

"Yes. I'm sure you'd be more at ease sitting down."

She sat in the cushioned leather desk chair, and saw he'd logged in correctly. "All right, we seem to be in. What am I looking for?"