I Can Make You Love Me. Karen White-Owens
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“Yeah. And? Life is full of problems. That doesn’t stop most people from doing what they want to do.”
Wynn felt all of her insecurities and worries rise to the surface. “Come on. Look at me. I’m not sweet sixteen.”
“Well, that’s for sure,” Helen agreed. “Neither is he. What’s that got to do with anything?”
“There’s thirteen years’ difference between us. Do you believe someone like Adam could truly be interested in me?”
“Absolutely. That means the boy will have a lot of stamina.”
Shocked, Wynn gasped. “Helen!”
“Come on. You’re a beautiful woman. Lots of men have been after you. Some of our clients ask about your personal life. They want to know if you’re married or seeing someone.”
Wynn hissed. “It’s none of their business.”
“Whoa! Don’t get huffy with me.”
“Sorry. My life is complicated enough without this.”
Helen frowned. “How so?”
“Adam’s a VP at Gautiers. There’s a lot of life ahead of him—”
“And you, too,” Helen inserted, swallowing the last of her coffee.
Ignoring her assistant’s comment, Wynn said, “What do I have to offer him?”
Shaking her head, Helen added, “Girl, you have officially lost your mind.” She put down her coffee mug, ticking off items on her fingers. “Number one. Stop worrying about the future. It’ll take care of itself.”
“I have to worry. I’ve got kids.”
“Number two,” Helen continued, “everyone gets first crack at you. The boys, your parents, and Nursing Solutions, even that old stupid ex-husband of yours.”
“Not all of the time,” Wynn defended.
“Jim gets too much of your time. What does Wynn need? Do you ever ask yourself that? When was the last time you did what you wanted? Put yourself first? I can answer that. Never.”
“I have to be careful. Anything I do can affect my children.”
Helen waved a dismissing hand at her boss. “Please. Your kids are fine. They’ll be great no matter what you do. Think about yourself for a change.”
“I don’t know.”
“Here’s a bit of advice. Enjoy Adam. Let him enjoy you. Don’t worry about the future or his motives. Carpe diem. Seize the day.”
“Are you telling me I should make Adam my boy toy?”
“Nothing so crude. There’s feelings between you. So it won’t be just sex. Let go. Have fun.”
“How do you know what I feel?”
Helen laughed, leaning back in her chair. “Girl, I know you too well. Adam would never have gotten to your front door if you weren’t interested in him. You would have tossed his business card in the trash and never answered his calls.”
“We do have a little bit of history.”
“So.” Helen stretched her legs out in front of her. “There’s another reason. You wouldn’t be fretting over what he feels and thinks about you. I know you. It’s Monday morning. You’d be on the phone making cold calls, checking the newspaper to make sure our ad ran, not sitting here with me telling me about the lovely time you had Saturday night.”
Wynn shrugged and then stated, “I like him.”
Helen grinned broadly. “I know you do. But you’re afraid to take a chance. There’s nothing in life that doesn’t come with a risk.”
“I’ve had to put my family first.”
“That’s all well and good. It’s time for you to have a little fun. What are you going to do about it?” Helen pushed the phone toward Wynn. “Call Adam.”
“I don’t know.”
“Listen to me and listen good. This is not about love or marriage. It’s more like comfort, closeness, and a whole lot of sex. Let go. Have fun. The future will take care of itself. Live in the present for a while. Now, what are you going to do?”
“Call Adam and thank him for the flowers.”
Helen rose and patted Wynn on the shoulder before leaving the office and shutting the door after her. “Good girl!”
Wynn reached for her purse and removed her wallet. Adam’s card was wedged between her American Express card and driver’s license. She studied the card, turning it over and over in her hands.
Should she? Wynn tapped the edge of the card against the top of her desk. Helen had a point. Why shouldn’t she have a little fun? This wasn’t a love match. Physical attraction—yes. Long-term commitment—no. Chances are that’s all Adam wanted from her. Her thought shifted back to Saturday night. Adam had made her feel things she hadn’t felt in a long time—maybe ever—and she missed and craved the closeness of a relationship.
No guts, no glory. Wynn picked up the receiver and dialed the number for his office. The telephone was immediately answered. “Office of the General Counsel. Tia speaking. How may I direct your call?”
For a moment, Wynn didn’t know what to say. Did she have the correct number? She checked the card against the number appearing on the display. Yep. It was the right number.
“Hello?”
“Hi. I’m looking for Adam Carlyle.”
“May I ask who’s calling?”
“Umm. I’m Wynn Evans. Is Mr. Carlyle in?” God! I feel like a fool, she thought. I bet lots of women call him.
“Oh. Ms. Evans. Just a moment. Let me see if Mr. Carlyle has returned from his meeting. I’m sure he wants to speak with you.”
The line went silent. Within seconds Tia returned. “Mr. Carlyle is still away from his office. I’ll leave a message for him to call you when he returns.”
Disappointed, Wynn swallowed loudly and left her number. “Thank you.”
She hung up the phone and swiveled the chair to face the window, staring unseeingly into the bright morning. Well, Lady Mae, you tried. Maybe it wasn’t meant to be. She reached for the folder and opened it, focusing all of her energy on the words in front of her. After several difficult minutes, Wynn’s concentration returned.
The ringing of the telephone pulled her away from the work spread across the desk. She picked up the receiver and absently answered, “Wynn Evans. How may I help you?”
“I could think of a few ways,” Adam