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She should probably eat, and then she should probably go to bed. He would have to make sure it happened.
“I am. I haven’t eaten anything but two strawberry tarts all day.”
No wonder she looked exhausted and was shaking.
“How far is it? Should I figure out how to get my car down here so we can drive?” They had the street blocked off, and he had parked in a sandlot behind a big building that looked like it was being used as a dog kennel.
“It’s less than a block. They’re actually thinking about moving the diner down to the end of the street so that they can use the patio as a dining area and people can sit and eat and see the horses and the lake.” She smiled, a soft, wistful smile. One that made him wish she was smiling for him. “It’s so pretty. But there’s a lot of work that needs to be done to it. And I don’t think Chi has been overly blessed with money.”
He narrowed his eyes just a bit. Clara, more than anyone, knew that he could afford to help anyone he chose. Although, he typically invested his money in things he thought were going to be profitable for him. Not in a rinky-dink diner in some tiny town that probably wasn’t going to amount to anything. Although, he was shrewd enough in business to understand that property values could possibly go up considering that Strawberry Sands was located along the lake and not too terribly far from Chicago. People were willing to drive to “get away from it all,” and the folks here could take advantage of that, if they offered the right mix of tourist attractions.
His mind started to spin with the possibilities, but he tried to shut it down.
He wanted to focus on Clara right now. Focus on keeping her as his administrative assistant, focus on getting around this idea that she might want to try to use her painting to make her way in the world and she would no longer need her job with him.
How could he make her stay?
He pulled the flap back, and she ducked outside. The crowd was thick, with people walking up and down the sidewalk, laughing and smiling while some of them hummed along with the music.
“Sounds like a local band,” he said, not meaning to sound snobby, but the music wasn’t the type of music that he was used to listening to in Chicago. It wasn’t the type that anyone would hire to play on the street there.
“It is. Jubilee found them not too far from here, and thankfully they weren’t booked. She did it on a spur of the moment.”
She didn’t sound upset. Or even resentful. That was one of the things he had come to admire about her, if he was putting anything into words, which he usually didn’t. Clara didn’t complain about other people. Not about them not doing their job, not about them making more work for her when they messed up. She just took it the way it came and dealt with it that way.
Not blaming, not complaining, just getting things done. That was part of what made her a great administrative assistant. She didn’t waste time on things she couldn’t control, she just took what she had and did the best with it.
They started walking up the sidewalk, passing a tent that held various signs that looked like they were hand-painted, another one that had interesting pieces of driftwood, and yet another that was filled with photographs of the lake.
“I set up a showing tomorrow at eleven for a house on the bluffs overlooking the lake. It should work as a residence and an office. I’d like for you to come along with me so I can make sure that you have everything you need.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t.”
“What?” He stumbled, caught himself, and continued to walk. But his mind was whirling. Why couldn’t she?
“I’m sorry. I said I can’t. If you change it to any time after twelve thirty, I’ll be sure to be there. But I’ll be in church at eleven.”
Of course. It was a small town. He forgot. People still went to church.
Back a long time ago, he’d ridden the bus to church. He supposed some of those lessons still stuck. Although he hadn’t been there in a long time.
Clara glanced over at him, and her look seemed uncertain. She opened her mouth, closed it again, and he almost laughed when she opened it once more.
He was on the verge of telling her to just say whatever it was she wanted to say, when she spoke. “You can come with me if you want. If you’re going to be here.”
She’d just invited him to church. He was here, trying to keep her from quitting on him, and he got an invitation...to church.
Was that a good thing or a bad thing? All of his business experience combined did not compute to let him know how he should take that invitation.
Still, his gut told him that if it was time that he wanted with Clara, he would be a fool to turn down anything she suggested.
“All right. I’ll pick you up. Where and when?”
“Where are you staying?”
There were no hotels in town, so he’d booked the closest he could. “Blueberry Beach.” He’d actually booked it himself. Typically, that was a job that Clara would do for him. Whether she recognized that or not, he wasn’t sure. Maybe that’s what her slightly lifted brow and the turned-up corner of her lip meant.
“You could stay with my mom. She has a bed-and-breakfast. It’s probably booked, but she keeps a room in the attic ready for family anytime they want to drop in. I bet you can have that.”
