her earlier.”
“The phone is in the bedroom,” she replied, and smiled at him for the first time that morning.
He excused himself and threw his jacket over the hall tree before he set off in the direction that she had indicated. Not wanting to intrude, she went into the kitchen and began brewing the coffee. The apartment was small, and it was impossible for her not to overhear part of his conversation, although she purposefully turned up the volume of the radio. The last thing she wanted to know about was Kane’s personal life. She had to try to keep things on a business level with him. Unfortunately even the classical music couldn’t drown out Kane’s voice as it rose in volume and unsuppressed anger.
“Krista! Don’t even suggest such a thing! I’ll be back in two weeks, and then we’ll move you up here…” There was a long pause, and then Kane’s voice softened. “I know how you feel, honey, honestly I do. But Dr. Richards thinks…” Another long pause. The conversation was extremely one-sided. “Look, Krista, I know that Aunt Sharon would like to have you stay until Christmas….But the doctor and I think it would be best to get you into school here as soon as possible.” Silence. “We’ll talk about it later. Goodbye, honey.”
It was several minutes before Kane came out of the bedroom, and in that time the lines around his eyes had seemed to deepen. Although he managed a smile, Erin could see that it was forced. He was preoccupied and tense. Through the soft folds of the fabric of his lightweight sport shirt, Erin could see the contours of his muscles, and they were tight. He walked into the living room and stared out of the window without seeing.
There was something in the droop of his shoulders that made her want to reach out and place a comforting hand against his cheek. He was having problems with his adolescent daughter—that much was evident—and Erin wanted to soothe away some of the mental pain he was experiencing. But she hesitated and remained in the kitchen, dawdling over coffee that was already brewed. It was safer somehow, watching him from a distance, wishing that any pain that he might be feeling would disappear.
When at last he turned back to face her, some of the strain had left his face. He ran his gaze over the apartment, appearing to study its contents. At that moment Erin sensed that her life was laid bare to him. The dusty rose couch, her weathered volumes of Shakespeare, an array of slightly disheveled plants, the antique rocker—everything was explored by Kane’s cold gray eyes. It was as if, from the objects in the room, he could understand her and penetrate her soul. A part of her wanted to be examined by his eyes and touched by his mind, but another, more suspicious side of her objected to his appraisal.
Thoughtfully he picked up the discarded paperback mystery novel from the coffee table along with a worn volume of poetry by Keats. He opened the poetry book slowly and settled himself uncomfortably on the couch, with his long legs cramped under the coffee table. “You read this?” he asked, half to himself.
Erin poured the coffee but remained in the kitchen, still unsure of how to handle the conflicting emotions that surfaced each time she was alone with him. To answer his question she explained, “I read a variety of things, depending upon my mood.”
“So I see,” he agreed, eyeing the paperback spy thriller.
Suddenly she knew that she had made a mistake by seeing him in the intimacy of her own home. She felt too vulnerable, too transparent, too visible. Kane was alone with her, looking into the secret corners of her life, and unexpectedly she felt threatened. She had overheard part of his disagreement with his daughter, and she felt a desire to comfort him, and yet a need to turn her back on him and his problems. She couldn’t let his life get tangled with her own; hers was too complicated and too precarious. She had to work with him as an employee; she couldn’t let her emotions carry her away. She braced herself as she carried the two steaming mugs of coffee into the living room. “Kane,” she began, placing a cup near him, “I don’t think that it would be a good idea to go out today”
“You want to stay in?” he asked, deliberately misinterpreting her. “That would be fine with me….Thanks.” He reached for the cup and took an experimental sip while still watching her.
“No…I don’t want to stay here. What I mean is I don’t think that you and I should see each other…”
“Why not?”
“Because, for one thing, I make it a practice not to date anyone I work with.”
He smiled to himself. “Then obviously, you’re not as insecure about your job as you pretended to be yesterday. Wasn’t it just yesterday morning that you accused me of plotting to fire you, along with all the other employees of the bank?”
“You’re avoiding the issue,” she challenged, a feeling of exasperation beginning to wash over her. “I’m not up to playing word games this morning!”
“Then let’s be honest with each other, shall we? Why is it that you won’t go out with me?” he asked, his silvery eyes capturing hers.
How could she tell him what she herself really didn’t understand? Was it possible to explain that she felt a desire to be with him and an urge to run from him?
“Are you afraid of me?” His voice broke into her thoughts.
“No!”
“Well?”
“I just don’t think it’s a good idea to mix business with pleasure.”
“Then,” he seemed to agree, “let me assure you that you’ll have a very unpleasant afternoon!” He placed his cup down and smiled at her in a perfectly sickening and victorious manner.
“Be serious….”
“I am! So far, you haven’t given me any viable excuse for not spending a quiet afternoon together.”
“But I thought…”
“It doesn’t matter what you thought.” Kane reached for her hand across the table, stifling her protests. “I just want a chance to get to know you better. Is that such a crime?” His angled face was earnest and open. Any doubts she had conceived earlier were quickly cast aside with the touch of his hand on her palm and the peaceful serenity of his gaze.
“No…”
“Good! Then let’s go, shall we?”
She pulled her hand away from his and reached for her jacket. He pulled his legs from their bent position under the table, stood up and let his eyes roam over the apartment. His perusal was slow, steady and deliberate. Erin felt herself once again becoming more uncomfortable as the silent minutes passed.
“Do you like living here?” Kane finally asked, all of his attention drawn to the features of her face.
“Why do you ask?”
“I guess because this apartment house isn’t exactly what I expected.” He lifted his shoulders and shrugged into his jacket.
“Just what did you expect?” Erin was intrigued by the conversation. Perhaps if she could draw him out, he would explain his feelings about her and wash away those last traces of doubt that nagged at Erin’s mind. She could sense that there was something he wasn’t telling her. It was as if he was purposely being wary with her.
“Oh, I don’t know,” he began in answer to her question. “But this place—it seems
