Ten Million Reasons Page 3

  Richard gazed out at the track for a couple of heartbeats before returning his attention to Genevieve. “It’s complicated and will sound awful if I blurt it out sans the explanation.”

  Genevieve hitched her left eyebrow up again. He didn’t look the least bit intimidated, but at least he started talking, and this time it sounded sincere.

  “It’s imperative that I find someone with good values. I have a proposition of sorts that I need to make to such a person. The proposition is unique and possibly even objectionable. As I thought about how I could find someone who had the right kind of character, I had the brilliant idea to host a survey. After all, the way people spend their money tells a lot about their priorities and character.”

  Genevieve, not sure what to say, kept quiet. Richard must have taken her silence as permission to go on because he continued to explain. “In three weeks, we’ve surveyed over a hundred people. A total of twelve percent of those people allocated their money in such a way that they spent more on others than on themselves. And of those people, only a small portion included any mention of giving money to a church or religious organization.”

  “And these are requirements for the position you need to fill?” Genevieve was skeptical.

  “I could interview hundreds of people for this… job… but people always put their best foot forward in an interview. Much as they do on a date. I’m in a time crunch, and waiting for someone to get over being on their best behavior to show me who they truly are isn’t a viable option. It’s imperative that I quickly get to the heart of the matter and find the right person for the… position… I have to offer.”

  “I see.” Who am I kidding? I don’t see anything. “Am I to assume, then, that you are considering me for this job?”

  Richard nodded and said, “I realize it’s all a bit unorthodox.”

  A bit! Is he listening to the words coming out of his mouth? Genevieve pondered what to say. She wanted to demand he tell her what this supposed job was. Every time she looked at him with the intent to speak, though, her mouth became dry, and her eyes were drawn to his golden hair and mesmerizing blue eyes until all coherent thought fled. What is it about him that makes me feel so off-balance?

  More time had passed than Genevieve realized. Kids started streaming out onto the track, and a smattering of parents and supporters began climbing up into the stands. Seeing Max, she stood up and waved. There was no need to swing her arms wildly to get his attention as he’d done at the mall food court. She always sat in the same place, and he always knew where to look for her. Max waved back, and Genevieve regained her seat.

  “That’s a fine looking boy,” Richard said.

  When Richard didn’t ask the obvious question – Is that your son? – Genevieve spun to him and asked, “You’ve already checked me out, haven’t you? Done an investigation or whatever?”

  Not the least bit shame-faced, he answered, “Yes.”

  “You realize I don’t even know your last name, and yet you probably know all about me, my work, my family?” When Richard said nothing, she added, “We are a far cry from any kind of a second meeting.” That’s the last time I fall for a sexy voice on the phone.

  Reaching over to where his suit jacket lay, Richard reached into the inner pocket and removed his wallet. Opening it up, he pulled out a card and handed it to her. It read “Richard Blakely, Esq.”

  “I get a name but nothing else?” Genevieve asked, eyes on the field where Max was warming up.

  Cross-country was the only team with tryouts today. Other practices and activities were getting underway on the field encircled by the track, though, so the place was bustling. Her nephew was going to have to run four miles. The coach started the cross-country runners, assigning them the outer two lanes of the track, one for running and the other for passing.

  Genevieve bit her lower lip as she watched the runners begin their trek. Max immediately dropped back until he was in second-to-last place. He didn’t look nearly as energetic as the other runners. One mile into the run, he got lapped. At two miles he’d been lapped by six runners in all. With only fifteen runners trying out, his position seemed precarious. Genevieve scooted forward. Max was rounding the bend and would again be passing in front of where they sat on the bleachers. As soon as he came into hearing distance, she shouted out, “Come on Max! You’re doing great! Keep it up!” When he passed out of hearing range, she sat back down and sighed.

  “He’s doing better than you give him credit for.” Richard’s opinion was not welcome. She gave him a look to make sure he knew it. “Cross-country runners have to pace themselves. Watch the lead runners. Mark my words, they’re going to start slowing down and falling back soon. They dumped all their energy into getting that quick start, and they won’t have the staying power to make it all the way to the end.”

  Genevieve’s eyes were glued to Max. She continued to shout encouragement each time he passed the stands. When, at two and a half miles, he passed the runner in front of him, she jumped up screaming, “Way to go Max!” Never mind that he was on the other side of the track and couldn’t possibly have heard her. By the time he completed his third mile Max had moved from fourteenth place all the way up to ninth place.

  Sparing a quick glance to Richard, she asked, “How do you know about running?”

  He shrugged and said, “I know a few things besides how to insult a beautiful woman.”

  Genevieve directed her attention back to the track and allowed herself to get caught up in Max’s race rather than distracted by the man beside her. Did he just say I'm beautiful? Max continued to slowly move up through the ranks. As he closed in on his last lap, he was in sixth place. Trying to contain her excitement, Genevieve leaned forward. Before she realized it, she was clutching Richard’s arm and jumping up to shout her support when Max finished in fifth place. She didn’t know whether or not that would be good enough to make the cut, but she was proud of him. Pivoting toward Richard, she gave him a spontaneous hug.

  Uh, hello? Realizing she was publicly embracing a man she hardly knew and certainly didn’t yet trust, she released him and said, “Sorry about that. Got caught up in the moment.”

  He shrugged as if it was no big deal, but she caught a glimpse of something in his smoky-blue eyes, something that said he’d enjoyed their brief contact as much as she had before her inner voice had so rudely interrupted them.

  As they sat waiting for Max to join them, Richard tried to start a conversation. “Do you come to tryouts often?”

  “Whenever I can.”

  “I’ll bet you’re at all his games, too.” She had to give him credit. He wasn’t giving up without a fight.

  “I try to be. It’s important.”

  “I can understand why it would be important to his parents, but you’re his aunt. Why is it important to you?”

  Genevieve gave Richard the most scathing look she could muster. It was hard under the circumstances, because she was still so pleased for Max. “Being an aunt is a privilege and an honor. I don’t take it lightly.”

  Richard held his hands up in surrender. “Sorry. Didn’t mean anything by it. I don’t have any aunts, so I speak in ignorance.”

  “No aunts? You poor thing.” Her voice sounded sincere and caring rather than sarcastic and cutting, as she had intended. Drat.

  Max came bursting up the bleachers right then with all his youthful enthusiasm. “Aunt Gen, did you see? What do you think?”

  Genevieve jumped up and gave her nephew a high five. “That was fabulous Max! All those other kids raced ahead of you, and I thought you were done for.”

  Max puffed up with pride at his aunt’s words. “I did some reading online about long distance running and have been trying to build up my endurance using Mom’s treadmill.”

  “You did good out there, Max. You should be proud.” The words came from Richard. Genevieve had almost forgotten he was there.

  Max, ever the gentleman, held out his hand to shake Richard’s and introduced himself.
“Hi, I’m Max Wilson. Are you a friend of Aunt Gen’s?” Gen snorted, drawing odd looks from Richard and her nephew.

  “Hi Max. Nice to meet you. That was some great running out there. Your Aunt Gen was sitting on the edge of her seat. When she wasn’t screaming, that is,” he said with a chuckle.

  He’s got to be a lawyer. Who else dodges questions that well?

  Max gave Richard a funny look then turned to his aunt. “I’m going to go shower and get changed. Think I can get a ride home with you afterward?” When Genevieve nodded, he added, “Coach said we should know before we go home today whether or not we made it.”

  Ever his champion, Genevieve said, “Well, he’d be a fool to cut you. And you can tell him I said so.”

  “Sure thing, Aunt Gen,” he yelled over his shoulder as he jogged back down the bleachers.

  “He’s a good kid,” Richard said.

  “The best,” she answered.

  “I had you checked out – you already know that.” Genevieve gave him a guarded look. “You deserve to know that, while I am aware who your siblings and nieces and nephews are, I didn’t investigate any of them. They were names on a piece of paper in a report, nothing more. I didn’t think it was fair to invade their privacy.”

  “But it was okay to invade mine?” she asked, slowly crossing her arms.

  “If you understood the entire situation, I think you’d agree with me that it was the best course of action.” His cryptic words did nothing to thaw the look she was giving him.

  “Are you ever going to explain why you lured me here under false pretenses, or will you continue dancing around in the shadows as you half-tell me what’s going on?” She was royally irritated at the man for investigating her. The feeling of intrusion did not sit well. Despite her feelings, the intense curiosity that had made her long to pursue a career in journalism was not to be quieted.

  “I hardly think I can be accused of luring you here when you’re the one who invited me.” His voice, balmy like a sunny spring day at the beach, made her want to smile with him, but she fought the urge. "Why don’t we take Max out for ice cream? Maybe a bite to eat? Celebrate his making the team.”

  The moment she thought she had him figured out, the man went and did something to surprise her. “I’d have to check with his mom,” she answered. “She’s probably expecting him home.”

  Richard smiled at her and said, “You’re quite good with that phone of yours. Why don’t you text her and find out?”

  Doing exactly that, Genevieve sent a text to her sister then also texted Jenny to see where she was and if she’d like to join them. Maureen replied, texting, Working late. No dinner at home. Jenny got back to her too, saying she was heading to work and wouldn’t be home until after eight.

  Genevieve was frowning at her phone when it chirped to life, causing her to yelp in surprise. After reading the text, she sent Richard a piercing gaze and said, “Max is going to meet us out in front of the school.” I hope I don’t regret this.

  Genevieve stood. She began gathering up her notebook and the other items that had managed to get scattered about her as she’d watched Max run. “Do you really think he made the team?” she asked, attributing her breathlessness to excitement for Max.

  Richard stood and collected his decidedly wrinkled suit jacket. Offering her a hand down the bleacher steps, he answered, “Unless things have changed, yes. The first seven finishers generally make the varsity team. Everyone else gets put onto JV.”

  “I run sometimes,” Genevieve volunteered. “But I don’t know a thing about the sport.”

  This time it was Richard who raised an eyebrow. “How can you participate in a sport but know nothing about it?”

  “I run when I’m upset or when I can’t think what to write next. It helps me clear my head.” She shrugged then admitted, “That’s not strictly true. I just run until I’m so exhausted that all the different writing voices racing around in my head pass out from oxygen depletion and give me some peace and quiet so I can think.”

  Richard’s eyes had turned deep cobalt. She couldn’t read what was going on behind his eyes, and it made her want to take a step closer to get a better look. In this case, close might mean dangerous.

  Richard watched her intently, and she had the sudden feeling she wasn’t doing nearly as good a job masking her feelings as he was. He didn’t remark on it, though, and instead picked the conversation back up. “That’s one use for running, I suppose.”

  Genevieve shrugged. “The way I see it, tons of people ride bikes without knowing a thing about competitive bike-riding.” She didn’t realize how defensive she felt about the subject until she heard it in her voice. She swallowed before saying, “I’m just like them.”

  He didn’t comment on her tone. Instead he said, “I’ve never heard it talked about quite like that, but then I have the feeling you see a lot of things differently than most people do.” With a grin, he added, “If I’m wrong, and he didn’t make the team, then we’ll take him out for a consolation meal instead. He’s a teenager. Food fixes everything, right?”

  She didn’t want to say it out loud and ruin the mood, but the words swirling through her mind commanded her attention. Unfortunately, no. Food doesn’t fix everything. Not even for teenagers.

  ****

  She and Richard were approaching the front exit of the school when someone yelled out, “Hold it right there!” Genevieve swiveled to see Reggie, one of the security guards, hustling toward them. It was definitely unsettling to see the large guard swiftly moving in their direction. “Howdy, Miz Mason,” he said congenially, contradicting his fierce bulldog appearance. “Sir, I need you to sign out and turn your visitor’s badge in before you leave the premises.”

  Richard looked sheepish. “I suppose I ought to collect my ID, too, while I’m at it. Excuse me,” he said, nodding to Genevieve.

  “I’ll wait out front,” she said, before heading through the doors. She spotted Max and strode toward him. “We’re taking you out for a bite to eat and some ice cream if you want,” she told him.

  Max hesitated and said, “I should probably check with Mom. She might have something planned for dinner.”

  Genevieve reached a hand out to touch Max’s arm. “I already texted her. She’s working late and won’t be home for dinner.”

  “Oh,” was Max’s glum response.

  Forcing some joviality into her voice, Genevieve said, “The meal is to celebrate your fantastic tryout today. So it’s your choice. Wherever you want to eat. We’re only along for the ride.”

  “I don’t know.” Max’s lack of enthusiasm tore at Genevieve’s heart. It shouldn't be like this. Life should still be carefree at his age.

  Who am I kidding? Life’s not going to get any easier. Maybe it's time I start encouraging him to develop a thicker skin.

  “Alright everyone, where are we going?” Richard’s voice came from right behind her, and Genevieve swung around to see him standing there, backlit by the sun. His hands were in his pockets, and he looked like a man who had all the time in the world. He didn't look like a man who wore silk socks and talked about wealth with ease. Richard glanced briefly between her and Max before saying, “I used to do a little cross-country back in college, and I can tell you, that was a fantastic run today, Max. We need to celebrate.” Giving them both a smile, he added, “What is it that teenagers eat these days, anyway? Cantonese? Peruvian? Peanut butter pie?” When no one responded, he added, “Oh come on guys. You’ve got to give me something to work with. Sushi? Haggis?”

  Max still didn’t say anything, but the face he made at the mention of haggis was all the encouragement Genevieve needed. “Come on, Max. You have to pick something, or we’re going to end up eating some poor animal’s internal organs. Please save me from such a horrid fate!” She threw in a dramatic sigh and fluttering hand to the forehead for emphasis.

  Shaking his head, Max asked, “Who’s driving?”

  The question caught Genevieve off guard. Do
I trust Richard enough to get in a car with him?

  Before she could answer, the man with the dark blond hair and disturbingly blue eyes spoke up. “Your aunt hasn’t decided yet whether or not to trust me, so why don’t we let her drive?”

  So he’s a mind reader now, too, huh?

  Max rolled his eyes. “She drives a puddle jumper. It’ll be a tight fit.”

  Richard rested his arm briefly across Max’s shoulders and told him, “You have a lot to learn about women. A tight squeeze in a car is a small price to pay for your aunt’s peace of mind.”

  Giving them both a look that said he thought Richard was talking nonsense, Max said, “I’ve got my permit with me. Are you gonna let me drive?”

  Oh my. I should have trusted Richard to drive. Digging her keys out of her purse, she tossed them to Max, who raced ahead to her economically sized car. Max let out a “Woo-hoo!” as he ran. I definitely should have let Richard drive.

  Richard volunteered to take the back seat, but Genevieve didn’t have it in her to be that mean-spirited. She squeezed into the back and belted in.

  “You’re not going to make me regret this, are you, Max?” When her nephew grinned at her in the rearview mirror, she put her hands over her eyes and said, “I hope your life insurance is paid up, Richard.”

  ****

  Max picked a trendy new pizza place. The three of them chatted as they waited for their meal to be served.

  “So, what did the coach say?” Genevieve asked.

  Looking unusually bashful, Max answered, “I’m in.” Shouts and high fives took over at their table for a minute until Max said, “But I’m having second thoughts about joining.”

  “How come?” Richard asked. Max shrugged. The look on the boy’s face told Genevieve it was likely about his family, but Richard couldn’t possibly recognize that expression. He told Max, “You’ve got real talent. I didn’t once see you react out there to the other runners, either when they were passing you or when you were passing them. Some people take years to learn how to run smart like that and not let their emotions rule their actions.”