I Married a Master(35)
Author: Melanie Marchande

"I don’t know, try asking one of those carnies who guesses people’s weight. It’s in all the romance novels." She sighed, leaning her head back on the seat. "The size-guessing thing, I mean, not carnies. For some reason, they’re not so hot."

For a moment, I sat in silence, wondering if I really should feel creepy for touching her clothes. It seemed like a necessary evil, and I certainly didn’t have any size-guessing superpowers.

Finally, she spoke.

"So, what was the other night all about?"

It was the exact question I’d been dreading. I could play dumb, and if I really committed, she’d probably go along with it. That wasn’t like her. Even if we were still practically strangers, I knew that much. She wasn’t one to bite her tongue. But the other night, when I’d talked to her in that tone…she melted to it. We’d fallen into the exact roles I didn’t want us to take, because I knew where that was headed.

It never lasted. Not when I was involved.

I wasn’t going to play dumb.

"I’m sorry about that," I said, putting on a remorseful smile. "Just had a bad day. I guess it hit me all of a sudden. I didn’t get much sleep either, and you know how that goes for me. It’s like feeding a Mogwai after midnight."

She might be poking at my defenses, but she had a wall up herself. I felt it crack, just a little, as she smiled at my stupid joke. "Okay," she said. "Well, good. I was afraid I did something."

"No," I lied, leading her towards the waiting town car. "Of course not."

After that, she was quiet. Thoughtful. Closed off, even, which was good. The more she kept her distance, the easier this would be.

Chapter Fourteen

Jenna

The building was breathtaking.

It felt like something out of a movie – gleaming marble floors, a massive bank of elevators with attendants, and even towering tropical trees in the corner. I couldn’t imagine walking into a place like this and knowing that it all belonged to me. That it was my responsibility.

"Morning, Mr. Chase," the security guard called from his glass box. Ben waved, and they exchanged brief pleasantries as we headed towards the elevator. It didn’t escape my notice that Ben had bothered to retain the names of the guy’s kids, and the fact that his daughter just graduated to the next level of Girl Scouts. Unless, of course, it was all bullshit and the guard was just too polite – or too cowed – to say anything.

"Going to your office, Mr. Chase?" the elevator attendant asked with a cheerful smile. He nodded at me in acknowledgement of my presence, clearly not knowing who I was.

"Yes, Dave. Thanks." Ben rested his hand on the small of my back, lightly, just a ghost of a touch. But it was like every inch of my skin suddenly came alive, responding to the warmth that radiated through my dress. "This is my girlfriend, Ms. Jenna Hadley."

Dave took this in stride, as I supposed any professional elevator attendant would. But I thought I detected a hint of surprise. "It’s wonderful to meet you, Ms. Hadley. Please don’t hesitate to ask if you need anything."

Anything elevator-related, I presumed. I just smiled and thanked him, although I found myself spending the rest of the ride wondering whether he’d get in trouble if Mr. Chase’s girlfriend sent him on a personal errand that took him away from his post. I hoped not. It was hard not to feel like a bull in a china shop. I was acutely aware that I was upsetting some kind of delicate ecosystem here, a world about which I understood absolutely nothing. And since this wasn’t a heartwarming Nora Ephron comedy, I had a feeling it wasn’t going to end with everybody deciding things were better when you just cut loose.

The elevator was so quick it made my heart drop into my stomach. Or maybe that was the way Ben’s fingers curled against my lower back, just slightly, before he seemed to suddenly realize what he was doing, and pulled his hand away.

When the doors popped open, I took a deep breath and stepped out. The hallway was so long I couldn’t see the end on either side, so I waited for Ben to follow, guiding me to the left and down another hallway I hadn’t even noticed at first.

"How big is this place?" I muttered under my breath, mostly to myself. He just smiled, gesturing me towards the huge double doors that evidently led into his office.

I bit the inside of my cheek to stifle a gasp.

The whole back wall was nothing but picture windows, displaying a gorgeous cityscape. I couldn’t stop myself from walking over to them, pressing up against the glass and staring down until I started to feel a rush of vertigo. My knees wobbled slightly.

"Careful," said Ben, taking my elbow. "Don’t look down."

I wanted to snap that I was fine, but instead, I just turned my gaze upwards. The city looked like an ant farm from up here, everything tiny and inconsequential compared to us.

The rest of the office was skillfully decorated, but it paled in comparison to the view. I walked around the perimeter, while Ben sat down at his desk and started looking through his drawers.

On the wall furthest from the door, there were several plaques and awards displayed, most of them emblazoned with the names of organizations or societies that meant nothing to me. My eyes were drawn to some of the plainer, more official-looking certificates, and I slowly began to realize what they actually were.

Diplomas. He had a bachelor’s degree and a Master’s of Science in Pharmacology, both from NYU. My brow furrowed.

"Are these real?"

He glanced up at me. "Yes, I really did win ‘Most Improved’ in Little League. Also, the diplomas didn’t come from Kinko’s. What kind of question is that?"

I sighed. "Obviously I know they’re real, I just meant…I thought maybe they were honorary degrees, or something. I’m sorry."

Shrugging, he gestured to the chairs opposite his desk. "It’s fine. Most people assume the same thing. I just wanted to understand at least some of what our science department was talking about, so I went to school for it. So you see, I’m not just an empty-headed socialite after all."

I sat down, feeling slightly cowed. At least he took it in good humor, more or less. His desk was massive, solid wood, polished perfectly and organized in precisely the way his desk at home wasn’t. Someone else must manage this for him. An assistant, most likely. Hell, a guy on his level probably had six or seven interns at his beck and call too.

As if on cue, there was a quiet rapping at the door. "Come in," Ben said, and the door swung open slowly. A young, doe-eyed blonde was standing there, carrying a cup of coffee.

"Drew the short straw this morning, huh, Claire?" He smiled as she approached, and I could practically feel her stress level ratchet down a few notches. "Thanks. It’s perfect."