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“What is it? Did I do something wrong?”
“Absolutely not. You didn’t do anything wrong, and that’s what I’ve been wanting to tell you, and talk about with you.”
Elizabeth kept her gaze fixed on him. He appeared to be struggling with how to broach the topic he wanted to discuss with her.
“As you can tell, I’m a little uncomfortable...um...talking about this, but I feel I must. You’re about the same age as my daughters, and I would hope that if ever they were in a situation of need, someone would look out for them, which is my intent here with you.”
Her heart raced in fear of the unknown as she waited for Mr. Kent to gather his thoughts.
“Let me start by saying that you’re an excellent addition to our Chicago office, and I would like for you to stay. I know Mr. James is trying to talk you into going back to New York, and lord knows if he knew I was having this conversation with you I would probably lose my job.”
She stared intently at him as he paused to formulate his next sentence. “You’re going back to New York won’t change anything. He’s not going to change. He’s used to getting what he wants whether it’s by the rules or not. He’ll stop at nothing, and unfortunately, he’s got the power and money to protect himself, his family, and his little empire.”
Elizabeth shifted her gaze to the tabletop. He knew what happened, or at least some rendition thereof. Embarrassment rippled through her, followed by a tidal wave of anger as she thought about the position she and Mr. Kent had been put in by Patrick.
“Damn, Patrick. Damn him for doing this to me and screwing up my life,” she whispered out loud as she swung her gaze back to her boss.
“What are you talking about? What do you mean, Patrick?”
She pulled her eyebrows together and cocked her head to the side. Judging from what he’d just said to her, she was sure he knew what Patrick had done. “Mr. Kent, what are you talking about? I thought you somehow knew about what happened to me.”
Her boss nervously glanced around the deli. “We need to talk further about this, but we should do it more privately, but I have a client meeting in fifteen minutes. My wife is making her famous meatloaf tonight, why don’t you join us for dinner, say 6:00 p.m., and we can finish what we started here?”
Curiosity got the best of her, and she accepted the invitation.
About five seconds after she returned to her office, her phone rang. Joe’s number flashed across the caller ID. “Hi Joe, everything’s fine,” she said before he could even ask.
“That’s good. Just checking to make sure.”
She proceeded to tell him about her strange and confusing conversation with Mr. Kent, and how he invited her to join him and his wife for dinner tonight.
“He was acting so nervous and tense during the conversation, I’m not sure exactly where he was headed with it, but he seemed adamant that we talk further.”
“Hmm, I wonder what’s going on. Call me or come over when you get home and let me know what it was all about.”
“Okay, I gotta go. See ya later.”
She worked diligently in the office until it was time to leave for Mr. Kent’s house. Traffic wasn’t too bad so it only took her about forty-five minutes to get from downtown to his picture-perfect suburban home.
Mrs. Kent greeted her at the door. “Welcome, Elizabeth. It’s nice to see you again,” Joan said as she reached to take her coat.
“It’s nice to see you again, too,” Elizabeth replied as she studied the tastefully decorated home.
“Would you like a glass of wine?” the kind woman asked.
“Yes, please.”
She followed Joan to the kitchen where she noticed several family photos plastered to the refrigerator with magnets.
She studied the photos of their two daughters, Mary and Sarah, and their families. “Your daughters have very nice looking families.”
“Yes, they are. But I can’t take the credit, I think they get that from Joan’s side of the family,” Mr. Kent beamed proudly as he entered the kitchen.
Elizabeth helped Joan carry the meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and other fixings into the dining room, and then took a seat across from her. She watched as Mr. Kent walked across the room and took his place. He looked so different tonight, wearing jeans and a polo shirt versus a suit and tie.
They made some small talk while they ate dinner, mostly revolving around Sarah, Mary, and the grandkids. It was easy for Elizabeth to see how proud the Kents were of their daughters, sons-in-law, and five grandchildren. As she listened to them, her mind drifted to the conversation she and Mr. Kent had at lunch. She desperately wanted to know what he was trying to tell her earlier, and hoped he would cut to the chase soon.
“Would you like some coffee with your dessert?” Joan asked her.
