Chapter 6
Spencer thought he heard a voice inviting him to enter, but his blood was pounding inside his ears so loudly, he couldn’t be certain. Tentatively, he opened the door and peered inside. Steven Gherring was sitting at his desk, simultaneously eating his lunch and reading something on his computer. He glanced up as Spencer entered.
“Hi, Spencer. What brings you here? By the way, thanks again for helping us get set up at home with your mother. Anne would’ve gone crazy if she’d had to stay in the hospital another day. What am I saying? I would’ve gone crazy.”
He fought the sudden desire to retreat back out the door. How was he going to break the news? What would Gherring say? What would he do? Would he realize Spencer had no prior knowledge of the picture? Surely he wouldn’t think Spencer was implicit. It didn’t matter. It was still his fault. He was the one who’d brought Candace on the hike. Ultimately, it was his responsibility.
“Spencer? Is something wrong?”
“I... Yes...” He moved stiffly to Gherring’s desk and placed the offensive paper in front of him. “I’m so sorry... I promise I had no idea.”
Gherring stared at the tabloid picture, his jaw flexing. His hands clenched into fists. He grabbed the paper and read the article, cursing under his breath. He wadded up the paper and threw it across the room and let his face fall into his hands, supporting his head with his elbows on the desk.
“It’s my fault. I should never have let them come with us. I take total responsibility—”
“Who was it? Becca or Candace?” He spoke between his fingers.
“Candace. I’m almost positive. I tried to call her, but—”
“Does Emily know?” Gherring looked up.
“I don’t think so.”
“It’ll make the six o’clock local news.”
“Surely not. It’s only a tabloid.” Spencer’s words were raspy, his throat dry.
“A television reporter called me and asked for a statement. I refused, because I thought it was based on the first picture. But now...”
“What can you do? Can you sue them?”
“I’m a public figure. I can’t sue them. Medical professionals are bound by HIPAA. But I can’t sue somebody for taking a picture of me in public, even though I was generous enough to drive her to and from the hike in my vehicle. And even if I could sue Candace, what would I get from that? And the tabloids know what they can say and get away with it.”
“I’m so sorry.”
Gherring shook his head. “We were the ones who decided to go on a hike. I never really thought it was a good idea, but Anne can talk me into almost anything. I just wish we’d never gone. Don’t torture yourself. It wasn’t your fault. But I swear if I ever see Candace again, I might break her neck.”
He shivered at the fierce expression on Gherring’s face. “What are you going to do?”
“I’ve got to talk to Anne, and then I’ve got to do some damage control.”
When he left Gherring alone in his office, he heard loud cursing and banging through the heavy wooden doors. He was lucky not to be on the receiving end of Gherring’s anger.
* * *
Anne was feelingpretty chipper for someone attached to an IV pole. She’d only thrown up once, and she’d managed to keep down an entire piece of toast. She was due to go back to the doctor tomorrow, and she hoped her lab report would be good. At least with the IV, she was well hydrated and her dizziness had eased.
She’d asked Connie all about her family, and was entertained all morning with tales of raising five children in a small New York City apartment. Connie’s husband, Joe, was a high school math teacher. They’d met in junior high and fallen in love. But their teen relationship had been stormy, with lots of breakups and fighting and jealousy. They’d broken up for good by their senior year. Then shortly after Connie had been licensed as an LVN and started work at a hospital, Joe broke his leg. He spotted Connie in the hospital hallway and chased her down in a wheelchair to ask her out. They got married a year later and had just celebrated their twenty-eighth anniversary.
“We enjoyed meeting Emily at dinner Sunday night. She must be very bright to already have her CPA license at such a young age.
“She’s smart, but she’s not great with relationships.”
“Because she’s shy?”
“Yes, she’s shy and cautious… afraid to lose control. I think it all goes back to losing her dad when she was eight. She was the big sister, you know. She tried to be strong for Charlotte. It broke my heart to see that little girl trying to be so grown up.”
“She told us she lost her grandparents, too.”
“Interesting. She doesn’t usually talk about it. She must feel really comfortable with your family.”
“She does seem a little timid.”
“Yes, we had a really rough few years after that. But Emily changed. She’d always been a good kid. But after the accident, she was—I don’t know—driven. Driven to be perfect. She studied. She obeyed. She danced ballet. She made good grades. She excelled. But she never played or relaxed.”
“She didn’t do anything for fun?”
“Well, I think her only escape was reading. Even ballet was something to be conquered with discipline. But she loved reading. That and painting. But she always painted for herself, not for competition or to show anyone.” Anne pursed her lips. “That’s why I was really surprised she agreed to go to an art class with Grace.”
Connie chuckled. “Grace is a force to be reckoned with. She could probably talk an ostrich into flying. Everyone seems to do exactly what she wants.”
“Well in that case, I’m glad they met. Emily’s the type who’d work and read and never get out and do anything. I think this class could be really good for her.”
Her cell phone rang, and Connie left the room to give her privacy.
“Hi, Sweetie. I’m feeling better. I bet I’ve gained a pound.”
“Really? What have you eaten? I mean, what stayed eaten?”
“A piece of toast.”
“Well if you gained a pound from that, it must have been some really heavy bread.”
“Okay, maybe I haven’t gained a pound yet, but I feel like I’ll be able to.”
“I’m glad you’re better.” His voice became serious. “I need to talk to you about something. Okay?”
Her heart began to beat rapidly. She could tell from his tone something was wrong. “What is it? Is Emily okay? Did something happen? Is it work?”
“Calm down—Emily’s fine. There’s no emergency. But there’s been a development, a kink in our plans to hide the pregnancy. I think we may have to go public sooner than we thought. I don’t think we can wait until you’re showing.”
“Why? Did someone slip and say something?”
“No… I’m so sorry, Anne. You know you’re more important to me than anything. Right? I’d give up all my money, Gherring Inc., everything for you. In a heartbeat.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m so angry I couldn’t protect you—that my money and my position put you in the public eye. And I’m so frustrated I don’t have the power to shield you.”
“Shield me from what?”
“From people. From the press.” He groaned. “Someone took a picture of us, and it’s obvious you aren’t well in the photo. And the story is speculative and nasty.”
“It’s... It’s in the paper?” She couldn’t help the tears that came to her eyes.
“Yes, only a tabloid. But... But someone called me about it, asking questions. A television reporter.”
She tried to respond, but she couldn’t think of anything to say. She let the tears roll down her face.
“Anne? Are you there?”
“Y-yes. I’m h-here.”
“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry. If you want, we’ll fly to South America and hide out until the baby comes.”
She didn’t say anything. They both knew that scenario couldn’t happen.
“Y-you tell them th-the truth. T-tell them the whole st-story. You make something g-good come out of th-this.”
“What do you mean? What good can possibly come out of this?”
“My problem. M-my condition is r-rare. But I’m not the only one. And th-the other women. People don’t underst-stand it. Th-they think it’s only morning sickness. A-and those other women don’t have the m-money for a private nurse.”
“So what do you want me to do? Pay for private nurses for all those other women?”
“No. If I’m going to have my p-picture plastered all over, I might as w-well be a poster child for this thing.”
She took a deep shuddery breath. “There’s probably a foundation or a society or something. We can raise awareness and help people understand and raise money for research.”
Anne felt humiliated, but she also felt militant. She hated losing. Ever! This seemed like the only way to win.
“Wow. Okay. That’s not the response I expected. But then again, I never seem to be able to predict anything you’re going to do.”
“So, will you do it?”
“I’ll do anything you want. But you’d better be sure. There’s no going back with something this big. We’re talking television interviews, magazine interviews, public speaking. Do you really want to do that?”
No. She didn’t want to do any of those things. None. Not a single one. She wanted to be anonymous. Her tears began to flow again.
“Yes. Just do it.”
* * *
Emily wonderedwhy Steven had called her into his office. When she arrived, his office looked as if a bomb had gone off. He must have thrown an awful tantrum.
“What happened in here?”
He looked around as if noticing for the first time the books and papers he’d flung across the room. “Oh. I must have lost my temper. I’m okay now.”
He strode quickly across the room to grasp her shoulders. “I need to warn you about something.”
“What?” Emily couldn’t even imagine a scenario that would cause Steven to lose his temper and then require her to be warned.
He started pacing as he pushed his hand through his hair repeatedly. “It’s a long story. But, basically, the press has gotten wind your mother is sick. Actually, they’ve got two pictures and a lot of speculation.”
He stopped in front of her, his hair askew. “And we’re going on television tonight to explain everything.”
“What? Mom agreed to this?”
He shook his head. “I know. I can’t believe it either. It was her idea. Her way of making lemonade out of lemons.”
“Tonight? But Mom looks terrible.”
“Personally, I think she looks beautiful, but she agrees with you. The news crew is sending over a makeup artist right now. I’m mostly worried the stress will be bad for her. Our doctor’s agreed to be interviewed as well.”
“Why are you doing this? Isn’t this going to make everything worse? I thought Mom hated being in the papers, much less on TV.”
“I know. Believe me, I know. I hope she doesn’t regret it. She’s planning to raise awareness for women suffering from hyperemesis gravidarum. She says it’s the only way something good can come out of this.”
“Okay, thanks for the warning.”
He rubbed his forehead with his fingers, squeezing his eyes shut. “This isn’t how I wanted to tell people about the baby. I wanted to announce it some fun way and hand out cigars.”
“Well, it’s not too late.”
“For what?”
“It’s not too late to announce it and hand out cigars. You’ve got an hour and a half before five o’clock. I’ll go buy cigars or candy or whatever you want. You call a meeting for the whole company.”
His face brightened. “You really think I should? It could be fun, I guess.”
“Let’s do it!”
* * *
Spencer wasnervous when he got the notice about the company-wide emergency meeting at four thirty, with only an hour’s notice. Did this have something to do with the newspaper story? He was relieved Gherring hadn’t blamed him, but he still felt responsible. Gherring had been angry, as expected. What he hadn’t expected was how frustrated Gherring was. He thought someone as rich and powerful as Steven Gherring would’ve been able to fight the paparazzi and send some heads flying. But evidently that wasn’t the case.
Sam found Spencer, and she pulled him to the side. “This is really weird. We’ve never been called together for a last minute meeting before. Maybe he’s going to close down a branch and lay some people off.”
“Why would he do that? Is the stock doing badly?” He wondered if the tabloid speculation could actually hurt Gherring Inc. financially.
“No. No the stock’s up, actually. I don’t know—I’m worried because this isn’t normal.”
The noisy group fell completely silent as Gherring entered. His face was stern as he looked over the large group, standing awkwardly and craning to see. He motioned to the side. Emily and Gherring’s secretary approached him, carrying two large boxes. Gherring stood up on a chair.
“I’m sorry we don’t have a conference room large enough to accommodate all of you. I have a very important announcement to make.” He paused, and the audience waited in uneasy silence.
“The timing on this is a bit awkward. We didn’t really want to make this announcement until we were closer to the actual time, so we’d be sure it would actually happen.” He paused again, and the group began to murmur. Suddenly Gherring’s face changed. His dimples flashed, and mouth stretched in a huge grin.
“I’m going to be a dad!”
There was a moment of shocked silence, and then the whole group started cheering and clapping, sending out shouts of congratulations. Spencer could tell the employees really liked Gherring and were genuinely happy for him.
“And!” Gherring shouted over the crowd noise, “I’ve got cigars and candy for everyone so we can celebrate. But please, remember no smoking at the office.” He chuckled with the employees.
“But… there is more,” he added, with a more somber expression. “Anne’s having some serious complications, and the media got possession of some pictures... To make a long story short, we’ve got a television interview about it tonight. But we didn’t want you to be the last to know.”
Sam whispered, “I thought she didn’t look well this week. And she’s so thin—that can’t be good.”
“She’s already considered a high-risk pregnancy,” Gherring continued, his face lined with worry. “And she has a condition called hyperemesis gravidarum. Anne and I would both really appreciate your prayers.”
He reached out to Emily and caught her hand, giving it a squeeze.
“But we’re not going to let that stuff take away from how excited we are.” He grinned sheepishly. “We’re pregnant!”
* * *
“I sawyour mom and dad on the news tonight,” said Grace as she and Emily made their way toward the art class. “It sounds really scary. Are you worried about her? I thought she was really brave to go on television like that, but she looked really thin. Has she gained any weight at all?”
Emily giggled as Grace prattled on. How on earth would she ever answer a question? Grace never stopped talking long enough for her to say anything. But she enjoyed her new friend’s enthusiastic chatter.
“I’m so excited you’re going to this class with me. Just wait until you see the art teacher. He’s so hot! And he’s mysterious and sort of, I don’t know, sultry.” Grace gave a little shiver to emphasize her words. “But he’s got this strict policy of not dating students. Which is too bad, because I’d love to lock lips with the guy. His voice is even romantic, and he talks so... You’ll have to meet him to understand.”
“How old is he? I pictured the art teacher as being about fifty for some reason.”
“Oh, he’s older, but not that old. He’s like thirty-two I think. And the whole class is girls. I think there’s maybe one guy out of twenty. And the girls all flirt with him and try to get his attention, even though he says he won’t date a student.”
“Well I won’t flirt with him—I’m going to this class to improve my technique.”
“Me, too. But I’d like a chance to improve my technique with him in other areas in addition to art.”
“My, oh my! What would your brother say if he heard you talking like that?”
“Spencer? He’s already got his technique down pat. He can’t fault me for getting in a little practice.”
For some reason the topic of Spencer’s love life irritated her. How many other girls had there been? She decided to change the subject.
“Are you sure I can join the class now? Isn’t it the middle of the course?”
Grace shrugged. “It doesn’t matter because it’s not for credit or anything—they’ll prorate your fee. He’s the most popular teacher at the Art Academy. You’ll understand why when you meet him.”
Emily decided she wouldn’t mind a little eye candy. But she wasn’t going to be swept off her feet by any guy, no matter how suave and debonair. At least that’s what she told herself before she actually met Asher Denning.
He greeted each student by name as they entered the classroom. His blond hair was a bit too long, but it suited his face, which could only be described as beautiful. His eyes were a brilliant blue and his jaw was strong. Emily couldn’t stand a guy with a weak jaw. His face had a few days of stubble on it, giving him a laissez faire appearance. He was about six feet tall and tanned, with the broad shoulders and chest that came only from hours of lifting weights. His athletic build was at odds with his artistic bent and smooth mannerisms. He looked good, and he knew it. No wonder he didn’t date any girls in the class, he was probably in love with himself. Then he spoke to her and she was lost. He had an English accent—he was her dream guy.
“Hello. Who have we here? I know we haven’t met, for I could never forget such a lovely visage.”
She felt her face heat up. “I’m Emily Best. This is my first night, but I’ve painted before.” That sounded so stupid. Why hadn’t she thought of something clever to say?
“Well, Emily Best, I can’t wait to see the results of your efforts tonight.” He raised her hand and turned it over to examine her long slender fingers. “Such beautiful hands must do beautiful things.” He pressed his lips to her hand before releasing it, and Emily giggled nervously. What was wrong with her? He was way too old for her, and she didn’t trust him. But as he gazed at her through half-lowered lids, she felt a little thrill. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to enjoy a little flirtation. After all, he didn’t date his students anyway.
Grace elbowed her. “Told ya.”
As the two-hour class progressed,she was engrossed in her work. There was a lamp burning on a table in the center of the room. Each student was painting the lamp, with particular attention to recreating the glow emanating from the bulb behind the silk shade. Emily jumped as she felt someone touch her elbow.
“That’s absolutely smashing.” Asher breathed the words into her ear. “You’ve not only captured the glow, but you’ve revealed how the light illuminates the objects nearby.”
Emily couldn’t help but preen at his praise. “I’ve been painting for a long time.”
“It’s obvious. This class may be a waste of your time. I do provide private lessons as well.” Then he leaned to whisper in her ear, “Perhaps we could meet for coffee and discuss the possibilities.”
“But, I thought you didn’t date your students.” She spoke in a low voice, glancing to see if anyone could hear their conversation.
He raised his eyebrows in feigned innocence. “I only want to discuss your future educational opportunities, but I’ll let you in on a little secret.”
He moved closer to her ear. She could feel his warm breath on her neck. “I only say that so I don’t hurt anyone’s feelings. There’s no policy here against socializing with students. I’ve simply not met a student who captured my interest before.”
Emily blushed as her heart sped up. Asher Denning had turned down every other girl, but he was interested in her. She couldn’t help but thrill at his attention.
“What do you say? Thursday night?”
“I don’t know...”
“I promise I’m not a dodgy chap—totally above board. We’ll just have a friendly chat.”
Thursday night. She was supposed to go to a jazzercise class with Becca. And she’d told Spencer she’d get pizza afterward. She could go with Becca the next Thursday and make up some excuse for Spencer. She felt a little pang of guilt. It’s not like she was doing something wrong. She and Spencer were only friends—they weren’t dating. But she couldn’t tell him about going out with Asher, since she’d declared she wasn’t interested in dating anyone. She’d better not tell Grace either. Anyway, it was merely a chance to discuss her artwork. Ha—it was a chance to ogle Asher Denning and let him stroke her ego a little. She knew she was playing with fire, but she could handle it.
“Okay. But only coffee, right?”
“Yes, well it’s a little place that has coffee and other beverages as well. There’s a great new jazz trio playing on Thursday. I think you’ll love it.” He spoke a little louder. “Yes, that’s great work with the light, Emily. Outstanding!”
* * *
“So what wasAsher Denning saying to you during class tonight? I saw you turn red.” Grace questioned Emily as they walked together toward the subway station. Her voice was teasing, but insistent.
She was grateful the darkness hid her fresh blush. “He was complimenting me on the way I used light. That’s all.” She felt a little bit guilty over the partial lie. It was true he’d been complimenting her technique. Grace didn’t need to know he’d flirted with her and asked her out as well. Anyway, it was nothing. Just coffee. She wasn’t really hiding anything, was she?
“I have to admit you’re really good. Have you had a lot of lessons?”
She laughed. “No, not at all. But I read a lot of books about it and practiced religiously. I had a lot of finished watercolor paintings that looked like mud, but I kept plugging away. It’s an escape for me.”
“Wish I’d known about that when I was younger. With a bossy big brother and three whiney little sisters, I could have used an escape.”
“But I think you’re pretty good. Haven’t you been painting for a while?”
“Only since last spring, when I took my first class with Denning. But I’ve been practicing a lot, just so he’ll come by and exclaim about how expressive my paintings are.” She chuckled. “I think expressive is code for tries hard but not very talented.”
“Don’t sell yourself short. I think you’ve got talent.”
“Well, I’m not as good as you. You’re amazing! Have you ever tried to sell anything?”
“No way. I’m not that good. And really, I only paint for myself.”
“You must be pretty awesome to get Denning’s attention your first night. Several girls were giving you dirty looks. Better watch out they don’t slip some poison in your water bottle. Especially the way he was cozying up to you, like he wanted to see more than artwork.”
Emily’s cheeks burned furiously. “Grace, he wasn’t—“
“Settle down—I’m kidding. I forget you don’t know me that well yet. Our family teases all the time. But just for curiosity’s sake… Are you and Spencer really friends?”
“Is this question an example of you teasing me again?”
“Oh, no. I really want to know the answer because I’m nosey. So, are you friends? Really?”
“Of course we’re friends.”
“No, I mean are you only friends?”
“We’re only friends. Neither one of us wants to date anyone right now.” That was true, wasn’t it?
“Really? Spencer said he didn’t want to date anyone?”
“That’s what he told me. Why? Is he dating someone else?”
“That’s just it—I can’t figure him out. He’s with girls all the time. But when he’s around the family, he never lets us in on who he’s actually dating. I’m itching to know what he’s really up to. You two seem pretty close, so I thought you might be secretly dating.”
She opened her mouth to deny the statement, but Grace cut her off before she could protest.
“No, it’s okay. I believe you. But you still might be an inside source. I was hoping you could find out who he’s dating. I’m pretty sure one girl’s really after him, but I don’t know if the feeling’s mutual.”
“Really? How do you know?”
Grace looked around as if someone walking beside them might be listening. “He forgot his cell phone at the house last night. And during the two hours before he came back for it, he got about ten phone calls from some girl named Becca.” She smiled smugly.
She tried to keep her face neutral. Becca? Why was she surprised? She’d seen how aggressively Becca had pursued Spencer on the hike. He’d said they weren’t dating, and claimed they were only friends from the hiking club. And Becca had been so friendly to her, even calling her Saturday night to ask her to go to Jazzercise this Thursday. Could she have an ulterior motive? Now she thought about it, she remembered Becca asking a lot of questions about how she knew Spencer. Maybe it was a good thing she was cancelling the jazzercise with Becca.
“I know Becca,” she said carefully. “But I didn’t realize they were dating.”
“Honestly, I don’t know for sure, but he’s acting different. He usually talks about a ton of different girls, claiming all of them are friends. But recently, he quit talking about any girls at all.” She arched her eyebrows. “That’s why I know he’s hiding something.”
“Or maybe he isn’t hiding anything. Maybe he got really busy—he told me he didn’t have time to date anyone right now.”
“Yeah, right,” Grace scoffed. “Spencer claiming he doesn’t have time to date? He always has time for girls. I don’t know why he said that to you, but he knows better than to say something like that to me. I’d call him out in a second.” She looked more determined than ever. “I’m gonna figure this out if it kills me.”
“Well, let me know what you find out. I’m curious, too.”
“Truthfully, I was hoping it was you. Why don’t you want to date anyone right now, anyway? You’re finished with school. You should have plenty of time to date.”
“It’s just... I don’t really like to talk about it.”
“Oh, well sorry to pry.” Grace was quiet for a moment before busting out laughing. “No, that’s not true. I love to pry. What happened? You’ll feel better if you tell me. And I won’t tell anyone—I’m great at keeping secrets.”
“No really. It’s embarrassing. I can’t tell you.”
“Okay, I’ll tell you something embarrassing, and then you won’t mind telling me your thing. Let me see... There are so many things to choose from...”
Emily chuckled. “No, you don’t have to—”
“I know a good one. And it’s about a guy, too. There was this really cute guy in my Geology class named Jake, and I was dying for him to ask me out. Then one day I got a text that said, Hey this is Jake. Do you want to catch a movie on Friday? So of course I text back Yes. And the next day I went up to him in class and asked him about it. And he was all confused and asked what I was talking about. It turns out the message was from a different Jake. It was sooooo awkward!” Grace laughed out loud.
“That really happened? That’s awful. How can you laugh about it?”
“Stuff like that happens to me all the time. I’m an awkward disaster magnet. I guess I’m used to it. I drop stuff, trip and fall, say stupid things. I’m like a walking comedy skit. Okay, so give it up. What happened to you?”
Grace was certainly persistent. Maybe it would feel good to tell someone. She hadn’t even told Charlie. “Okay. You promise not to tell anyone? Not your sisters? And especially not your brother?”
“I promise. Really. I mean it.”
She sighed. “So there was this drop-dead gorgeous guy at my firm in Fort Worth. His name was Tristan. We went out four times. He was always making suggestions, you know, sexual suggestions. But I thought he was just flirting. On the fourth date, he declared if I really liked him I would prove it by sleeping with him, although his exact words weren’t even that nice. And when I turned him down, he took me straight home without speaking to me. Two days later he was in a relationship with another girl in the office. After that, I swore off dating.”
“Okay, he was a jerk, but that’s just one guy. You shouldn’t give up because of him.”
“He was only the straw that broke the proverbial camel’s back. Every other good-looking guy I’ve known has turned out to be a jerk or conceited or a player or something. I’m never attracted to the nice ones.”
“So you don’t want to date? Or you don’t want to date Spencer? Do you think he’s a player?”
“Isn’t he?”
“To tell you the truth, I don’t know. I know he’s had a lot of different female friends. He’s always claiming they’re only friends and nothing more, just like with you. So maybe it’s true. I only know one thing for sure. He’s a crabby, bossy big brother, but he’s really a sweet guy. He’s not a jerk like most guys who’re that good-looking. That may sound weird coming from a sister.”
“I think he’s lucky to have a loyal sister like you. And I don’t think he’s a jerk either. He’s been really nice to me. But I can’t take a chance on getting hurt again. I’m thinking maybe the guys I’ve dated are too young. Maybe an older guy, someone who’s more mature. Maybe someone like that would’ve outgrown the tendency to play games.”
“Maybe… But I think you should give Spencer a chance.”
“But he doesn’t want a chance, remember? He told me he didn’t want to date right now.”
“Yeah, whatever.” Grace rolled her eyes. “He may be selling, but I’m not buying.”