An Act of Persuasion

chapterR NINE



“WAS THIS A GOOD IDEA or a bad one?”

Anna glanced at Ben who was smiling grimly. He had waited exactly two days before calling her to politely ask her out for a date Saturday afternoon. They’d had a nice, if slightly awkward, lunch at a small bistro they both enjoyed and then he’d suggested a tour of the Philadelphia Art Museum that was featuring the works of Van Gogh.

Anna had walked the creaky boards of the museum enjoying the swirls of color and light. It was odd seeing so much beauty on the canvas even though she knew that at the time he’d painted them Van Gogh had been in so much mental pain.

“Why would you ask that?”

“I don’t want to bore you. I want us to have fun.”

Anna couldn’t say how much fun she was having. But she felt peaceful with him. At rest deep inside in a way she hadn’t been in a long time. Probably since first discovering he was sick with cancer. She wondered if it felt that way for him, too, now that he was finally healing. Now that he no longer had to deal with the specter of death looming behind his shoulder. But she didn’t want to ask and put his illness in the middle of their date. This was supposed to be about seeing if they could have a new future together, not dwelling on what they almost lost. Still, she couldn’t help but look at the paintings and be reminded of her past in a way.

“It reminds me of a class trip,” she mused, moving slowly from canvas to canvas. At a time when she’d been normal for a while. Just a girl in school who was tuning out all the things her art teacher had to say about the classics on the wall and instead thinking about whether Johnny Blanton was going to try to kiss her when he walked her home from school that day.

Now here she was again, only this time she was wondering if Ben was going to kiss her when he dropped her off. She’d already told herself she shouldn’t let it happen. Kissing Ben was...powerful. Kissing Ben could make her forget all the reasons, very sound reasons, she had for not having sex with him.

“Uh-oh. You’ve compared our date to a school trip. The museum was a bad idea, then.”

She smiled. “No, it was actually a good memory.”

“You told me you hated school.”

He’d been doing that all day. Showing her how much he recalled of everything she had ever told him. He mentioned her favorite color, pointed out her favorite thing to eat on the menu. It was nothing exciting—just a grilled cheese sandwich. But that particular bistro prepared it with three types of cheeses, which made it simply to die for.

Of course, she’d never doubted he was observant. The man had been trained to see and hear everything within his surroundings. However, being observant and being attentive were two different things. Like hearing what she said and understanding why she said it were two different things. In his defense, though, she’d never talked much about her past. Any details she’d shared with him had been superficial facts.

“I didn’t hate school,” she said slowly. It felt as if she was offering up some big secret even though this was only her personal history. It simply wasn’t something she’d ever talked about with anyone before. But if they were going to make this work, if they were going to have an actual relationship, then it was probably time she gave him something of herself and the life she’d experienced growing up.

Funny, she could see now, as he quoted back all the things he thought he knew about her, how much she had kept from him. All she’d told him were the meaningless things, nothing really important or substantive about her life. She’d told herself she was in love with him, but could a person be in love with another person when there was so much of herself she hadn’t revealed?

A year ago the idea that he would remember she liked grilled cheese sandwiches and the color purple would have thrilled her. A true sign they were connected.

Now, it wasn’t enough.

“I didn’t hate school,” she repeated. “I hated being in school. I hated the age I was that made it mandatory.”

“Explain.”

“When you are in foster care you’re not in control of anything. Where you live, what food you’re given, what clothes you wear a lot of times. I hated not being eighteen. I hated middle school and high school as institutions because, as long as I was attending them, I wasn’t eighteen. Those years, the only thing I could think of was getting out of the system. The foster system, the school system. All of it. I wanted it behind me.”

She stopped and looked at him, wondering if she made any sense. His expression appeared stern. “Anna, you never talked about your time in the different homes you were in. I never pressed. But were you hurt? Were you—”

“No.” She held her hand up. “Nothing like that. I didn’t have any really bad experiences in any of the homes I stayed in. Nothing truly awful. I know there are horror stories about kids in foster homes. But there are other stories, too. A lot of the people who take in kids like me are good, kind, loving people. They’re trying to help, not hurt. I’m sure there are some bad apples, but it’s like that everywhere with everything. So, no, I don’t mean to vilify the foster-care system. I’m only saying I was anxious to be out of it.”

He nodded. They continued walking side by side down the length of the exhibition hall taking in the work without really studying it.

She had this crazy idea that he might reach out and hold her hand. He didn’t.

“When you talk about it, you use the word homes, plural.”

“I had three. The first was a really nice woman. Her husband didn’t pay us much attention but she was always laughing and hugging us. She had two girls and a boy. They were older than me, closer to being teenagers. We were all fosters. At first I thought I had won some mom lottery. I didn’t remember much about my own, but I knew this mom was way better. She made cookies and tucked the blankets in around my shoulders at night. I was with her for three years, but then she got sick. Cancer, although I didn’t know it at the time. Eventually she was so sick she couldn’t take care of us anymore. We were reassigned.”

He made a sharp noise and she watched his jaw tighten. He was mad for her, but there was really no reason to be. It was simply how the system worked.

“Go on,” he said.

“The second family I didn’t like as much. There was an older boy, theirs, who was nasty. In hindsight probably not any nastier than any ten-year-old boy would be who had a nine-year-old girl foisted upon him out of the blue. I provoked him, too. I was mad at having to leave my last family, I guess. And I think it was then that I finally understood what my situation was and that I was different from other kids. I acted up a lot and he was an easy target for my anger. If I had left him alone...but I can’t change what happened.”

“What happened?”

“We would fight all the time. He would chase after me, pull my hair, sit on my chest. Stuff boys do to little sisters who annoy them and I was intentionally annoying. Only I think with real brothers and sisters there is more of an underlying affection. A sense that they are connected no matter what. Family. We never had that. We were two strangers living in this house and we didn’t like each other. One day our fight got out of hand. He was squeezing me from behind, because I had taken his prized signed baseball. I reached over my shoulder and scratched his face. Then he wigged out, pushed me down and started punching me.”

Anna stopped walking, remembering what it had felt like. Lying on the new carpet in the family room, the one that Mary had warned her not to spill anything on. Not able to get away as the pain grew while Howard—funny, she hadn’t thought about him in years—kneeled over her with his knee pressed into her stomach as he continued to hit her with the fist he’d recently learned how to make.

“He broke my nose. Blood spewed everywhere. It was so gross. Mary and Bill came running in. Mary was shouting that the carpet was ruined and Howard was being held back by his father. I remember he started crying. Scared himself I think. He probably didn’t know he had that much violence in him. Anyway they called my case worker and when she got a look at my face, she removed me from the home. But really I was to blame for part of it. I worked at making him hate me.”

“I’m sorry.”

Anna shook her head, purposefully avoiding looking at Ben. She didn’t want to see pity in his face. “You know how many brothers and sisters fight? You know how many end up with broken noses? That’s what I mean. Being in a foster home isn’t like prison or hell. It’s just a place.”

“And the last home?”

“Two nice people. Jan and Larry. They were older and their son had just graduated from college. They were suffering from empty nest syndrome I think but didn’t want someone too young. They were terrific people. I still send them cards at Christmas and they still send me a birthday card each year.”

“But all that time you still hated your age. You were only what, ten, eleven?”

“Twelve by then. Yeah, but I knew any minute it could go away, right? I mean, what if Larry or Jan got sick? Or what if their son couldn’t get a job and wanted to come home but didn’t want me around? They were great people and did as much for me as any two people could, but there was still that fear. The knowledge that they weren’t mine and that it was all temporary. I needed to be eighteen. Because then I would be independent. Once I was eighteen everything that was mine, was mine to keep.”

“When did you come here on your class trip?”

“Freshman year of high school. It was part of our art class grade. You know, back when school still had art. I remember thinking how normal I was. I had been with Jan and Larry for almost two years. Not everyone knew my situation, just some close friends who asked because I called Jan and Larry by their first names, instead of mom and dad. I had a boyfriend for the first time. I felt normal for about ten seconds. Then I remembered. I always remembered. And I thought, only four more years to go.”

“Eighteen is young to be on your own,” he said gruffly.

“Larry and Jan were great that way, too. I worked all through high school at two different jobs and earned enough for a semester at community college. They let me pay board for a ridiculously low rate while I got my associate’s degree. Then with a solid waitressing job and some financial aid I was able to go to Rutgers to get my bachelor’s degree.”

“Was that hard? Staying with them when you wanted out?”

Anna smiled softly. “You don’t get it.”

She could see he didn’t like that response.

“It wasn’t about getting out or away from them because they were bad people. It was just about knowing that if something happened, I could be the one to walk away. Nobody was ever going to place me again. That’s all I cared about.”

He looked at his feet as if he couldn’t meet her eyes. She realized he did that a lot when they talked about the hard stuff. The kind of stuff they’d never talked about before with one another. “You never told me any of this.”

“You never asked.”

He sighed. “I wouldn’t have. You were my employee and it wouldn’t have been my right.”

She nodded. It was hard to forget that’s how he had thought of her when she had thought so differently about him.

“Ben, can I ask you a question?”

“You can.”

“Why did that night happen? If you only ever thought of me as your employee, if you had all these rules about not messing around, then what made you break them? Honestly.”

Again, his gaze dropped to the floor and as she waited for his response she worried that he was formulating the perfect answer. What she wanted to hear, instead of the truth. She braced herself when he finally did look her in the eye and, at least, she thought, she would be able to see if whatever he told her was partially true.

“Yoga pants.”

“Huh?”

“Yoga pants. You were wearing these tight clingy pants and you bent over to get a book and...”

“And?”

“I got hard.”

Anna blinked. Then she tried to see through his words to whatever game he might be playing, but she didn’t think he was playing. He was answering her question as best he could.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

She could see the concern in his face that he might have done something wrong. But she couldn’t be unhappy with his answer. No, it wasn’t a confession that deep down he’d been pining for her for the years they had been working together. They both knew that wasn’t true.

This was something else entirely. He’d wanted her. He’d lusted after her. And that desire had been strong enough to make the great and almighty Ben Tyler break his hard-core rules.

All things considered, it was a pretty complimentary answer. Who knew she looked that good in yoga pants.

“I’m tired,” she announced. It happened this way sometimes. Suddenly. Just like the nausea. All of a sudden she felt as though she could lie down where she was and take a nap. Given that they were in the middle of a museum, she figured she needed to rally a little bit longer.

“Me, too.”

That was nice, she thought. That he’d admitted his fatigue rather than tried to hide it so she didn’t feel like the weak one.

“Let’s blow this Popsicle stand, then.”

“This is a great museum, not a Popsicle stand...but I heartily concur.”

* * *

BEN DROVE THEM to Anna’s place and didn’t ask before getting out of the car and escorting her all the way to her door. He waited while she opened it and, once it opened, he began to turn away.

“Do you want to come in?”

The offer surprised him. He knew she was exhausted. He could see the faint tightening around her eyes. And as much as the idea of spending more time with her—possibly even ending up with the two of them making out on the couch—appealed to him, he hadn’t lied when he said he was exhausted, too.

The truth was he hoped he had enough energy left to drive home. If not, he would have to find a place to park and rest for a while. He’d learned through his recovery process that if he went with his natural tendency to push his body too far, then he paid for it later.

This wasn’t like a cracked rib or a sprained knee where he could deal with the pain and muscle through. Hell, he’d once been shot in the shoulder and had continued to move over difficult terrain for three days before finding someone to take out the bullet. A cakewalk when it compared to battling this new postcancer body of his.

He knew if he tried to fight the fatigue, then he would relapse for a time and find himself achy and miserable for days after.

“As much as I’m intrigued by the offer—and, really, I can’t believe I’m about to say this—I simply don’t have it in me.”

Her eyebrows rose. “Seriously? You think that was an offer? You’re dead on your feet. Me, too. If I was ready to have sex with you, which I’m currently not, I don’t think either one of us would be awake for the climax. I was offering you a place to crash temporarily.”

How humbling. “It’s only four in the afternoon. We’re pathetic.”

“We’re a pair of wimps. Deal with it.”

He would. Because the prospect of getting to spend more time with her after he woke up was enticing. They could eat dinner together. He liked eating dinner with her. It felt right to him, and since she’d been gone, nothing he’d eaten had tasted as good as when he was with her. The Reuben sandwich he’d had while he watched her eat her grilled cheese sandwich...delicious.

Decision made, he moved past her into her tidy apartment. The purple couch was going to be a problem.

He pointed to it. “It’s too small for me.”

“You can take the bed. I’ll take the couch. It’s where I usually nap anyway.”

Her bed. Her sheets, her pillows, her scent. The thought made him groan inwardly. He would smell her again. He hadn’t really gotten to smell her since that night. Maybe a little when he’d hugged her after she broke down sobbing, but that hadn’t been enough. Not nearly enough. And when he’d been kissing her, all he’d paid attention to was the feel of her. This would be different.

Lying in her bed would be like she was surrounding him and he wondered if he would be able to sleep at all or if he would suffer endless memories of their bodies intermingled.

“Let’s be clear. This is not a nap.”

Her lips curled as she clearly struggled to keep from laughing at him. “Sorry, I forgot. Big bad Ben Tyler doesn’t nap. The bedroom is over there. There is a blanket on the bed you can use. With the AC on high you’ll need it.”

Ben walked to the room and stepped inside what was decidedly her territory. He considered it a positive sign that she trusted him with this space. The queen-size bed was neatly made, and on the end of it was an old-fashioned-looking throw blanket that appeared to have been hand knitted. Something a grandmother might make her, if she had a grandmother.

“Make sure you take off your shoes,” she called to him.

Ben eyed the bed again. Her bed and he knew suddenly that he didn’t want to sleep in it alone. “Come in here. Please.”

His words weren’t loud but his message carried. She leaned against the door, her shoes already removed. The sight of her painted toes made her seem vulnerable to him and he had this vague image of what she would look like with her belly swollen and full.

Barefoot and pregnant and beautiful, he mused. He chose not to share that thought with her.

“Did you need something?”

You. “The bed is plenty big enough. We should both sleep here. It will be more comfortable for both of us.”

She gave him that look he was coming to know too well. The hell-no face.

“Anna, as you already pointed out, we’re both exhausted. Nothing sexual is going to happen and this makes more sense. Besides, if this does work between us, we will be sharing a bed in the future. We should get used to sleeping together.”

She said nothing, but he could see she was at least considering his suggestion. Hoping to convince her without words, he kicked off his loafers and placed them at the foot of the bed. He’d worn khakis and a polo shirt for their date. Not the most inspiring outfit, but he’d thought jeans would be too informal. He’d wanted her to know that he considered their date a very serious occasion. Lying down, he unfolded the blanket and then made room for her beside him.

“I sleep on the right.”

Instantly he moved over to the left side. She wore only a loose cotton dress that fell to her knees. Moving to her side of the bed cautiously, as if he might try to pounce, she awkwardly lowered herself as he tossed the blanket around her shoulders.

There was approximately two feet of space and a mile of unresolved stuff between them. But Ben still thought it was progress.

After a few minutes of stillness, Ben finally conceded maybe this hadn’t been such a great idea. They both needed to sleep, but their tense bodies wouldn’t let them.

“This is weird,” she mumbled.

“I sense that. I’m not sure why.”

“It’s really...intimate. I mean, we’re sleeping in the same bed.”

“Anna, I’ve been inside your body. We’ve made a child together. I’m not sure that sleeping together while fully clothed should be considered more intimate.”

“Probably not. But it is.”

He sighed then moved closer to her. Wrapping his hand around her waist he pulled her back against his chest and tucked her into the curve of his body. She resisted at first, but when he settled on the pillow next to her, he could feel her starting to relax.

“Why didn’t you say anything after that night? Why did you wait days before even bringing up the subject at all? You could have confronted me and told me how you felt then.”

He wasn’t sure where the question came from, but she was right. Lying together in a quiet bedroom in the middle of the afternoon listening to the sound of the air-conditioning unit hum was intimate. Like anything they said to each other would be okay. Would be real.

“I don’t know. Part of it was stubbornness. I wanted you to bring it up first. When you didn’t, I assumed you didn’t want to rehash it. Then I thought...it’s so stupid.”

“Tell me.”

“I thought maybe we didn’t have to talk about it. Maybe we could just slip into this relationship without you having to admit how you felt and it would be easier for you. Less messy.”

“Or having to admit how you felt, either.”

She twisted her neck so she could see him. “I guess so. I guess it makes me a little bit of a coward. I should have come clean with you from the start. But then I felt you pushing me away...”

“I wasn’t. I mean...I didn’t want you to feel like that. I just didn’t want to fight you about the stem cell procedure.”

She was quiet then, but he sensed she wasn’t done asking questions.

“So, if I had told you that I had feelings for you before you got sick, what would you have done?”

He would have fired her. He would have fired her rather than admit that somewhere deep inside he craved those feelings from her. “I don’t know,” he lied.

“I thought so. I think we both knew it was easier for us to say nothing. And that was true before and after that night.”

Ben pulled her a little tighter. “Maybe, but saying nothing cost me. I lost you for weeks because of it. So I’ll say this. I had a really nice day today.”

He could feel her body react to his words. “Me, too.”

“This feels nice with you in my arms.”

There was a moment of hesitation then finally she sighed. “I guess.”

“We’re going to make this work, Anna. You’ll see.”

He fell asleep quickly, content in the knowledge that he had made progress that day. And it didn’t worry him at all that Anna never replied.

* * *

ANNA LISTENED TO the sound of his even breathing and wondered if she slipped the pillow out from under her head carefully and started beating him repeatedly with it if she could make those soft, even sounds go away.

It wasn’t fair. He was relaxed and on the verge of snoring and she was staring at the wall, still exhausted but completely unable to sleep.

Had she ever only slept with someone? She didn’t think so. There was sex. There was dozing after sex. There was leaving quietly after sex. There was pulling away from Ben and making sure he was covered with a blanket and then going to her own room after sex.

There had never been any sleeping. Lying in someone’s arms. Trusting herself completely in his care. Being vulnerable enough to let go with another person in this very simple way.

Wow, it was harder than she’d thought.

He’d been her boss. They had worked together. She’d spent six years thinking she was in love with him. But lying in this bed with him, listening to his even breathing, feeling his chest move up and down seemed way too...real.

What if she snored? How completely mortifying it would be if he knew that. How...personal. There was no hope for it. If she tried to sneak out, she would wake him up. He was too sensitive to movement and sound not to know she was escaping...leaving.

As tired as he was, he needed the sleep. It was important for his total recovery. So she would simply lie next to him and wait until he stirred. Then after he left, she could collapse into bed...alone...and feel free to sleep for as long as she wanted.

But, man, was she tired now. Her eyes were so heavy. She imagined there was nothing wrong with closing them. Certainly, she could doze for a bit. Dozing wasn’t exactly like sleeping because some part of her mind would still be alert to her surroundings. Dozing would allow her to rest without completely abandoning control to hard-core sleep.

Eyes closed, warm in his partial embrace, she fought against losing consciousness. She wouldn’t sleep. She couldn’t sleep.

She fought it for as long as she could but eventually junior took over and demanded control of her body for a time.

And so she slept. With Ben.

Totally weird.