His hands jammed in the pockets of his brown gabardine pants, Robert Reeves stood in the Florida room of his house and stared out at the lake. A few minutes ago the water’s surface was calm with reflections of clouds and trees so clear that if he’d taken a picture and turned it upside down, he’d be hard pressed to say which were the actual trees and sky. And up until a few days ago, his life had been that calm, too. Now a soft breeze stirred the water, spoiling the perfect surface. And Reeves knew that before it was finished the lake would get rough and choppy. And so would his life.
He looked over at Jill asleep on the white wicker sofa and spread a lightweight red and white quilt over her legs. He longed to touch her, caress her, kiss her, hold her so close she could never leave him. Part of him wished she’d never come back into his life with such a force; the other part treasured each moment he had with her.
That first day in Lampwerth’s office, when Jill’s innocent brown eyes looked into his searching gray ones, he knew he was in love, not lust, for the first time in his life. Both of them understood Lampwerth International’s no-dating policy among employees, but they couldn’t help themselves. Destined to be together, they ignored the policy. And fell deeper and deeper in love.
The day their world crashed started out like any other normal day. Robert phoned Jill with his customary wake-up call to her apartment, they met at the Morning Glory Diner for breakfast, ate sweet rolls, talked sweet talk, and left—separately—for the office and a routine pretend-you-don’t-mean-anything-to-me day.
That day a jealous secretary, one who had her eye on Robert during his pre-Jill days, decided to enlighten J. Melton Lampwerth IV. Lampwerth had known about the affair between his two valuable employees and pretended not to notice. But when the woman came running to him with the information, he had no choice but to adhere to his own rules. And Lampwerth had issued an ultimatum to Robert and Jill.
That day five years ago, when Jill Hathaway refused his marriage proposal and picked her career at Lampwerth International over a lifetime career as Mrs. Robert Reeves, nearly destroyed him.
“Jill, I love you. With all my heart and soul I love you. Marry me; give up your job. We don’t need the money,” he’d pleaded. He didn’t tell her he had inherited millions of old Delaware money, owned half a dozen steeplechasers that raced in France and England. He donated most of his Lampwerth salary to charitable causes. He never told Jill about his fortune. Old-money folks didn’t flaunt their wealth; only the social climbers and nouveaux-riches paraded their assets for all to see.
But she had refused his proposal. “I love you, too, Robert. But I’m the Executive Secretary / Assistant to the President,” she’d said, pride apparent in her voice. “I’ve worked too many years, endured too many hardships. I can’t give it up for a life of cooking, cleaning, socializing at the country club, and playing bridge every day. Robert,” she said softly, “I’m not the type to spend my life waiting for you to come home.”
“I’ll hire a cook and a housekeeper if you want me to. And I’ll love you more than any woman on this earth has ever been loved.”
“No, Robert.”
He watched her change from a warm, life-loving person to a cold, driven woman. She had pushed her chair away from the table, walked out of the restaurant and, except when he saw her at Lampwerth International, out of his life.
Because of that, a part of him despised J. Melton Lampwerth IV.
He thinks I’m still asleep, thought Jill. Through half-closed eyes she watched Robert as he stood peering out at the lake. She wished she could go back to that night when he’d asked her to marry him, had promised he’d love her forever. How could I have been so stupid? My life’s been empty without him. He can’t still love me. If he did, he’d wrap his arms around me, whisper in my ear, ask me again to be Mrs. Robert Reeves.
Instead of placing the blame on herself, Jill had blamed Lampwerth. After all, it was his policy that split the two lovers apart. But now reality hit her, and she knew that her ambition had destroyed the most perfect relationship any two people could experience. And silently she cried.
Jill hated herself. And she hated J. Melton Lampwerth IV.