CHAPTER TWELVE
After the shopping expedition, Fern found herself in Pen's kitchen unloading groceries from the bags. He placed the perishables in the refrigerator and the paper goods in the cabinets. When he returned from carrying some of the paper towels into the bathroom, Fern asked, "Do you have any bath towels?"
Pen frowned. "Back in Chicago. I guess I'll have to find a place to buy some to use till mine get here."
"You don't have to do that. I'll loan you some." Fern felt her face and neck burn and knew she must be a bright red. "If you have enough, it's silly to buy more for just a week. I-I have enough to loan you some for a few days."
"I was so excited about finally moving out of the hotel I didn't think about everything. No need to loan me towels. I have to go shopping because I need sheets, too." He sat at the kitchen table and pulled out the chair next to him.
Fern sat and folded her hands in front of her. She looked at her hands instead of at Pen as she said, "I have extra sheets, too."
Pen knew he'd never sleep on Fern's sheets. They'd probably carry her subtle scent, and he'd spend the night dreaming about her. However, he didn't know how to refuse her offer. He certainly couldn't tell her he already dreamed about her every night.
"That's too much trouble for you. I don't mind buying extra." He hoped that would let him off the hook, but he wasn't surprised when it didn't.
"Don't be silly. I'll go home to get them while you finish unpacking." She rose from the chair and started walking across the room. "I'll be back in half an hour."
It was closer to an hour later when Fern returned. "I figured you needed pillows, too." She dropped linens and two pillows onto the sofa and sat beside the stack of sheets and towels.
"You didn't have to outfit my apartment." When Fern opened her mouth to respond, he continued, "But I appreciate it. I'm going to cook the pot pies for dinner. If I add a salad and offer fruit for dessert, will you stay for dinner?"
"I have some things I need to do at home. You don't owe me dinner for helping you move." She rose and started toward the door.
Pen touched her arm to stop her. He felt her stiffen. Did she find his touch so repulsive, or could it be that she was trying to hide a more exciting reaction?
"All I offered was a frozen pot pie, not a gourmet meal. You have to eat sometime, and I don't want to be alone for my first meal in my new home," Pen cajoled. "It has nothing to do with owing you anything." He didn't voice the thought that it had everything to do with wanting to spend more time with her.
"Are you're sure you're not just offering because you think it's expected?" She turned back to face Pen.
He grinned. "Do you think I'd do something just because it was expected?"
Fern answered his grin with a smile of her own. "I guess not. In the short time I've known you, you've never yet done what's expected." She sat on the sofa. "Okay, I'll celebrate your new home with you."
He was shocked to find himself thinking it would be more of a celebration if it were their new home. Why had he had that thought? He had always valued his independence and his privacy. He'd never before felt the desire to share his living space or his life with anyone; he'd never seen marriage in his future.
Pen wished he'd thought to plan a more elegant meal than frozen pot pies on paper plates. What had possessed him to ask Fern to join him? If he wanted to impress her, he should have taken her out for a meal. He didn't want to impress her-she was his subordinate. No fraternization, no opportunity for a complaint of sexual harassment, remember?
In spite of his qualms, Pen enjoyed the simple meal under camp-out conditions. He knew he'd never found that much pleasure eating a gourmet meal in a fancy restaurant with another woman. What was happening to him?
Fern laughed at one of Pen's jokes and said a silent thank you for the impulse that induced her to stay for dinner. She couldn't believe this was the same man who was taking away her independence at work. Not only was he the most gorgeous man alive, he had a fantastic sense of humor.
Sharing laughter with Pen over a casual meal at the kitchen table felt natural. She couldn't remember laughing so much or feeling such a tingle of excitement sharing an evening with any other man. She didn't want to feel this way about Pen. He was her boss, the man who was turning Fern's Fancies into Ultimate Plant Service, Inc.
Why wasn't she feeling the anger and resentment she had felt when she read that e-mail? He was still the same arrogant manager who had antagonized her from the beginning. She couldn't let her guard down now just because he was gorgeous and fun.
He demonstrated his fun with a joke. "Four plant maintenance technicians and a regional manager were all killed in a car wreck. When they got to heaven, St. Peter took the technicians aside and told them there would be a slight delay because heaven wasn't ready for them yet. He had them all stay in one motel room until their heavenly accommodations were ready.
"The motel wasn't up to the standard you'd expect of heaven. There weren't any little bottles of shampoo, and only one channel of the TV worked. One of the techs had to dry on a face towel because there were only three bath towels.
"The techs put up with the inconveniences cheerfully until they heard a brass band outside their window. They looked out, and lo and behold, the regional manager was riding in a convertible in a huge parade.
"St. Peter was standing just outside their door watching their parade. They went outside, and one of the techs said, 'We agreed to these paltry temporary quarters because we thought everyone was getting the same treatment. Now we see the regional manager treated like royalty. That's not fair. Why was the red carpet rolled out for him while we get shabby treatment?'
"'Well,' said St. Peter, 'we get technicians up here in heaven all the time. But this is the first regional manager we've ever seen!'"
Fern laughed heartily at the joke and forgot her doubts and worries. Everything would be different tomorrow at the office, but she was going to enjoy herself just for tonight. She would pretend that Pen didn't hold the future of her career in his hands. Nothing that happened tonight would change their relationship, but there was no reason to dwell on it when she could be having a good time.
"I'll wash the dishes while you clean the table," Fern said. In response to Pen's quizzical look, she tossed the paper plates and plastic utensils into an empty plastic grocery bag.
"Just hang the bag over the doorknob until I buy a trash can," Pen told her as he wiped the table with a damp paper cloth. "Well, we're done with the cleanup. Come on into the living room."
"I really should be going." She followed him through the kitchen door.
"Just keep me company for a few minutes." He sat on the sofa and patted the space beside him. Fern left plenty of space between them when she sat. "You know, I've moved around so much the last few years that I really haven't had a home. I've kept my apartment in Chicago, but I've spent more time in hotels than I ever spent there."
"Won't you still be traveling?" Fern asked.
"Not as much. Since this region is going to be so large, I'm going to have an assistant manager. He'll be appointed as soon as we complete the next two acquisitions. He'll do most of the traveling, and I'll be able to stay here most of the time."
"Oh." That meant he would be in the office more than she had expected. She was so aware of him after only a few days. What would happen if she worked with him day after day?
He slid closer to her and placed his arm around her shoulder. She let herself lean against him, and against her best intentions, her head gravitated to his shoulder.
"Fern, what am I going to do about you?" The words were spoken so softly that she barely heard them.
Suddenly he turned to face her. His hands reached up and cupped her face, and he pulled her toward him. The brush of his lips was gentle and tentative at first, but soon passion flared. Her arms went around his neck of their own volition, and she opened her lips to deepen the kiss.
Omigosh, what was she doing? She couldn't let her boss kiss her.
Let him kiss her? She was kissing him back with more passion than she had believed possible. She pulled away and smoothed her clothing.
Jumping up from the couch, she grabbed her purse and started toward the door before Pen had caught his breath. "What time do you want me to pick you up in the morning?"
"Fern, look . . . I didn't mean for that to happen. I'm-"
"Thanks for dinner. I'll see you in the morning. Seven o'clock okay?" She reached for the doorknob as she spoke, deliberately looking away from Pen.
Please, don't let him say anything about her wanton response to his kiss. He was probably just going to give her a friendly peck to thank her for helping him move. Her response had probably embarrassed him. She couldn't bear to think about it, much less talk about it.
"Seven o'clock is fine." From the sound of Pen's voice, no one would believe they had been engaged in a passionate kiss only a few seconds before. "Thanks for helping me move."
After her hasty departure, Fern berated herself all the way home. In her dreams, Pen was the one to pull away. She was glad she had come to her senses in time. She had pulled away before Pen could reject her.
She had saved herself from total humiliation tonight, but what would happen tomorrow?
The next morning, Pen's normal behavior helped Fern overcome her feeling of awkwardness. He seemed to have forgotten that kiss. He probably hadn't felt the tingling excitement that had flooded her body when their lips touched. His excitement over his new home must have overshadowed any thought he had of Fern's overreaction to what he no doubt considered a friendly peck of thanks.
Fern spent the morning scheduling appointments and planning her week. Engrossed in her calendar on the computer screen, she jumped when she felt Pen's hands on her shoulders.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. I thought you heard me come in," he said.
Fern swiveled around in her chair to face him. "Oh, hi."
"I just got an e-mail from corporate. Mr. Walker, the plant service division president, had a mild heart attack over the weekend." At Fern's questioning look, he continued, "He'll be fine. In fact, he's expected to be out of the hospital in a few days, but he won't be able to return to work for two or three weeks."
"That's too bad, but I'm glad he's going to be okay. I've never met him, but I talked to him on the phone once during the negotiations to sell my company. He seemed very nice."
"He is, but he's also a hands-on manager." Pen stepped around Fern's desk and sat in her guest chair. "There's too much going on in Ultimate right now to leave the position empty while he's out sick. I've been called back to corporate to fill in for him for the next few weeks."
Although she tried to hide her surprise, Fern knew her mouth must have dropped open at Pen's announcement. "You mean you're going to be running the entire operation?"
"Don't sound so shocked. I told you I'm the most experienced regional manager-I'm the logical choice." He smiled and shrugged his shoulders. "You'll be glad to know I'll be out of your hair for the next few weeks."
Of course, she was glad. Now everything in her office could go back to normal, even if only temporarily. She dismissed the heaviness she felt in her chest at the thought of Pen leaving. The breakfast tacos must have given her indigestion. "When do you leave?"
"On the first available flight. Maria's on the phone now making my reservation. I need you to drive me to the airport."
"Don't you need to go home first?"
Just then, Maria stood in the door to the office. "The next flight to Chicago is 10:20 A.M., and there's not another one until 2:10 P.M. I have the airline on hold-I wasn't sure you could make the first one."
Pen raised his left arm and looked at his watch. "That's just about an hour from now. Yeah, make a reservation for the early flight." He turned back to Fern. "Let's go. Obviously we have to go straight to the airport."
She rose and reached in her desk drawer for her purse. "Okay."
Maria finished her conversation with the airline as Pen picked up his laptop computer he'd left on her desk. She handed him a sheet of paper with his flight information. "Have a good trip, Pen."
Halfway out the door, he called over his shoulder, "Thanks, Maria. Tell everybody 'bye for me. I'll be back as soon as soon as I can."
On the trip to the airport, Fern watched her rearview mirror for police as she exceeded the speed limit and rolled through stop signs.
"That light was red."
Fern shook her head. "No, it just turned pink as I went under it."
"This isn't a race track. I'd like to arrive at the airport in one piece," Pen said through gritted teeth.
"You're the one who decided you could get to the airport and make it through the terminal to check in at the gate with less an hour before flight time." She couldn't take her eyes off the road to look at Pen. "But I'm sure it will be my fault if you miss the flight."
"It will be your fault if I miss the flight because your crazy driving causes an accident."
Even without looking at him, she felt his glare. "I suppose you're going to call me a crazy woman driver next."
She heard Pen take a deep breath. He said, "No, I'm not going to call you a crazy woman driver. I know you're a good driver. Haven't I trusted you to chauffeur me around all week?"
She nodded in response.
"You are driving awfully fast now, and you've already run a red light and a stop sign. We aren't in that much of a hurry. If I miss the first flight, I'll just have to take the one this afternoon." His voice was gentler than it had been all day.
"Maybe I overreacted a little, but I thought it was important for you to be on that flight." She nibbled on her lower lip.
"It is important but not important enough to risk an accident." Pen leaned over and tenderly traced the outline of her bottom lip. "And not important enough to destroy that gorgeous mouth."
Fern didn't know how to respond to his comment about her mouth, so she changed the subject. "What airline?" she asked. The terminal loomed in sight.
He opened the folded note from Maria. "American," he answered.
Fern pulled the car into a loading zone in front of the terminal. "Go on and buy your ticket. I'll park and meet you at the gate to make sure you get on the flight."
"I may already be on the plane when you get there." He leaned over and placed his hands on her shoulders. "Goodbye, Fern. I'll call you."
His face drew closer to hers. His kiss was brief but heated. He patted her cheek and disappeared before she could respond.