Chapter 25
Over the last three weeks, they’d developed a routine of sorts.
Junior would arrive for work at his usual time, walk through the plant, and talk to some of the earliest employees on shift.
Then, after pouring himself another cup of coffee, he would retreat to his desk, where he would open the computer and begin to respond to the most urgent emails.
He found the quiet soothing and was able to get a lot accomplished.
Then, around a quarter to nine, he’d begin to start watching the clock. As each minute ticked by, his insides would begin to churn a bit and his mood would lift. All because he was impatiently waiting for Elizabeth to arrive.
Unlike everyone else at Walden Wax Works, Beth never arrived or left at the same exact time.
Though this habit bothered Cherry—and she had no qualms about relaying this fact— Junior found Beth’s nonconformity amusing.
He sometimes got the feeling that Beth was maintaining this erratic schedule on purpose, like maybe she was trying to gain some control in her life since pretty much everything else was up in the air.
Or maybe she just didn’t care when she showed up.
Regardless of the reason, Elizabeth’s comings and goings didn’t affect the company’s success.
Her work was appreciated, but not time sensitive.
Besides, her arrival and departure times weren’t too chaotic.
She always arrived sometime between nine and ten in the morning and left between four and five in the afternoon.
To Junior’s shame, he was always aware of the exact times.
Sometimes she would simply walk in, wish him good morning, and then get to work.
Other times she’d fly in like a fierce wind.
She’d be talking a mile a minute, each sentence filled with apologies, and often blaming her tardiness on her pregnancy.
She was either nauseous, exhausted, or hungry.
Since he’d never had much contact with an expectant mother before, Junior had no idea if her reasons were valid or simply part of a game she was playing.
Whatever the reason, Junior would simply wish her a good morning and continue what he was doing.
Then, about ten days ago, he’d started playing a game with himself every morning. He’d make a guess about what time Elizabeth would walk through his office door. It amused him so much, he’d even devised a prize for himself when his guess was within three minutes of her arrival: lunch out.
That was why, when Beth walked into his office at 9:08, he felt like he’d won the lottery.
“Good morning,” she said as she slipped off her coat. “How are you?”
He couldn’t resist grinning. “I’m very well. You made my day, Elizabeth.”
She stopped fussing with her backpack and looked his way. “Do I even want to know why?”
“It’s because you arrived at 9:08 on the dot.”
Suspicion mixed with an additional dose of irritation brightened her blue eyes. “Junior, I told you from the start that I wasn’t going to adhere to a time clock.”
“I know. I didn’t forget.”
“Then why are you looking so pleased about 9:08? Because it doesn’t make much sense, especially since Cherry was her usual harpy self when I walked in the door.”
“I’m pleased because that was today’s guess.”
She tossed the backpack on the ground and then crossed her arms across her chest. “I think you’re going to have to explain yourself.”
“I’ve begun to make a guessing game about your arrival time.” He laughed, fully intending to tell her why he was so pleased: he was going to take her out to lunch.
But he didn’t get the chance because her eyes filled with tears.
Those amazing blue eyes that he couldn’t seem to stop marveling over.
Not quite understanding what was wrong but eager to fix it, he strode to her side.
“Elizabeth, what in the world? What’s wrong?
” It seemed to be the wrong thing to say.
A tear escaped and landed on her cheek. “Hey,” he murmured as he reached out to wipe it off with the pad of his thumb.
She recoiled as if he’d burned her. “Don’t.”
“Don’t wipe your tears?” He smiled. “Elizabeth.”
“I can’t believe you,” she snapped as she picked back up her tote bag. “I thought we were friends.”
“We are,” he said quickly. Dismay filled him as he began to realize that he might be making things worse instead of better.
“That’s doubtful.” She turned.
To walk out!
Unable to help himself, he reached for her arm in order to force her to a stop.
She flinched before turning on her heel. “Don’t touch me!”
Against his better judgment, he curved his fingers around her elbow. “Sorry, but I’m not going to let you leave until you tell me what I did that you’re so upset about.”
“You told me that my arrival and departure times weren’t an issue. You’ve told me that the work I have done for you made a difference to you. But obviously you lied.”
“I didn’t lie.”
“What do you call a betting pool, then? How did you think I would feel when I learned that everyone in here was fixated on when I came in?”
“Nee, Elizabeth.”
Either she was ignoring him or she didn’t hear, because she continued to talk as the tears continued to fall. “I’m not lazy and I’m not the type to take advantage of others. I can’t believe that’s who you decided I was.”
“I didn’t think that. I don’t think that.” He ran his hand down her arm, then pulled her close into a loose hug. “I’ve never said a word about my game to anyone else. Never.”
“What do you mean?”
Giving in to temptation, he brushed his lips against her cheek. Seeking to dry her tears with kisses, it seemed. “It means that it’s been my own silly game. That’s all.”
“Only yours?”
“Only mine. No one else’s.”
She sniffed. “I don’t understand.”
Feeling foolish—and maybe far too vulnerable—he said, “Elizabeth, the truth is that I like seeing you every morning. Whenever you walk in the door, my day feels like it starts. And because of that, I’m guilty of looking forward to you walking through the door far too eagerly.
So, about two weeks ago, I developed a little game.
I took to guessing about when you might get here.
And, because I’ve never liked a challenge without an accompanying surprise, I decided to give myself a prize for guesstimating your arrival within three minutes. ”
Her eyebrows rose. “Three minutes?”
“Jah. Give or take.”
“Has that ever happened?”
“Twice before.”
“Hmm.”
Glad that she no longer was crying—or contemplating a place and time to kill him—he pushed back a lock of her hair. It had fallen across her temple. “Today was special, though.”
“How so?”
“I guessed 9:08, and that was the exact time you walked through the door. That’s why I was so pleased with myself.”
She shook her head. “You are something else, Junior Lambright.”
“I reckon that’s true, but don’t be mad, okay? My childish game had nothing to do with your choices and everything to do with my fixation with my new employee.”
“Almost-new employee.” Even though her eyes still looked a bit damp, she was smiling.
Which allowed him to catch his breath. He didn’t want to make her cry ever again.
“That’s true,” he agreed, playing on their long-running joke that she wasn’t actually an employee since he wasn’t paying her a dime.
“So, what is your prize?”
“Lunch out. Want to come?”
“That hardly seems fair. I can’t partake in the celebration for your win.”
“Of course you can. I made the rules.”
“But someone could accuse you of making it rigged. If I get to partake in the spoils, then I could have planned it with you.”
“No one else knows, Elizabeth. Besides, anyone knows that sitting in a restaurant by oneself isn’t all that fun. It will be far more enjoyable to share it with you.”
She closed her eyes and chuckled. “You really are too much.”
“So, is that a yes to a lunch date?”
“I suppose so.” She smiled at him. At last. It was bright and sweet and perfect.
And irresistible.
He leaned close, cupped the back of her head, and finally gave in to temptation. He brushed his lips across hers.
It went so well, he did it again.
Elizabeth kissed him back. Smiled.
Then frowned when the door swung open and someone inhaled sharply.
No, not someone. He knew that gasp. “Close the door, Cherry,” he barked. Still keeping his attention where he needed it to belong.
Elizabeth pressed her forehead to his chest. Glad she wasn’t pulling away, he wrapped an arm around her. Held her close. “Now, if you please,” he bit out.
Cherry muttered something under her breath before speaking his name far more loudly. “Junior—”
No. No way was she going to ruin this moment any more than she already had. “I don’t care if the building is on fire. Close the door.”
When the door slammed, Elizabeth broke away.
“I’m so sorry about that,” he murmured as he reached out to touch her. “I can’t believe Cherry didn’t knock. Are you okay?”
“Yeah.”
Scanning her face, he thought she looked a little more mad than upset, but he didn’t want to take any chances. “You sure?”
“Yeah. I’ve been just thinking that there’s a silver lining to her barging in on our first kiss.”
“Which is?”
“Well, at least I won’t have to worry anymore about everyone taking bets on my arrival. They’ve got something far more interesting to talk about now.”
Junior reckoned she had a point. It was just too bad he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.