Chapter 20
INFATUATION
"It would appear that she’s smitten. That’s pretty flattering to you, Johner. I’d say that she’s approximately thirty years younger than you." Sarah was grinning from ear to ear. "I’ve always told you that you were more attractive than you think, but the romper room set? This is a new high---or low, depending on how you look at it."
She put her hand up and ran it over his short cropped hair, then reached up to kiss him lightly. "I think you’re embarrassed! Well, you should be; she’s just the right age for John! Maybe she’d accept your son as a substitute. What d’you think? Shall we introduce them?"
Johner looked uncomfortable.
"This whole subject is an embarrassment to me." 
"But think what an opportunity for me! How often do I find something to tease you about that really gets to you?" She choked with laughter as he glared at her. "OK, OK, I’ll quit. You’ve squirmed enough." She laughed again and put her arm through his as they moved through the parking lot to their car.
The subject of the conversation was the new receptionist in the office. George had hired his great niece to fill the position. "I don’t want to hear a damn word about this from anyone; the family has had problems and she needs the work!" He was feeling defensive about his decision to hire a relative.
The men on the staff were doing no complaining; the opportunity just to look at her was enough to make them enthusiastic. She was undeniably beautiful; blonde, blue eyed and willowy. And after two weeks on the job, she was unmistakably in love with Johner.
He had no idea how it had happened. He ruminated about it while he fixed dinner, and over dessert he asked if they could talk about it. "I’m concerned. I know you think it’s funny." He grinned down at his coffee cup, "Well, it is, in a way. But I don’t think it’s funny to her, and it’s goddam uncomfortable for me."
"Connor, I don’t know what the hell I did! I came across her crying in the back office, and I couldn’t just turn around and leave her there; damn it, I felt sorry for her! I offered her my shoulder to cry on, but that’s all! I swear, it was nothing more than a little sympathy!" He glanced up at her, looking for her acceptance of his statement as truth.
"Babe, it’s all right; I know you didn’t do anything to make this happen." She was smiling at him in amusement. "Don’t look so guilty! You’re a sucker for anyone in distress, I know that."
"I’m way old enough to be her father! It never crossed my mind that there could be any reason not to offer a little comfort." Johner shook his head. "And the funny thing is, you wouldn’t think she’d be looking for a father figure; her father’s the problem. He’s a drunk, and he’s violent. He’s been beating her and her mother both, ever since she was a child."
"Did she tell you all this during your sympathy session in the back office? Maybe I should be a little more suspicious!" She couldn’t resist teasing a little.
"No, no! ---God, Connor, don’t make me feel any guiltier than I do! George told me. He took me aside yesterday and told me the whole thing. The father’s in the can now; assault. Her mother pressed charges for the first time in twenty years; and now of course they’re both scared to death of what will happen when he gets out." Johner shook his head. "God, it’s so bad, what people do to each other. ---I think about the things I did---I’m so sorry for a lot of things." His head went down, but not before she saw his face twist in pain.
She reached her hand to him across the table. "Don’t, babe! You’re not that person any more. You can’t change the past, but you can make the present better, and that’s what you’re doing."
In a minute he raised his head and smiled at her. "Yeah. Thanks, babe." He reached behind him for the coffee pot. "Want some more? ---Anyway, about Heather. Wouldn’t you think she’s had enough of fathers?"
"Yes, you’d think so,---but on the other hand, maybe that’s why she fell for you. You’re the exact opposite of what her father is; so with you she can have a great boyfriend and a great father all at once."
"Connor, for Chrissakes, don’t call me a boyfriend! I’m nobody’s boyfriend, and never have been! Even when I was seventeen I was a man, not a boy."
"Well, sorry, I didn’t mean to insult your masculine image! But doesn’t it make sense about you being both father and boyfr---lover?" She was laughing at him, but his attention had been caught by something else she said. "How do you figure I’m the exact opposite of what her father is? What am I, a wimp?"
She laughed again. "No, not a wimp, a gentle man; there’s a difference. Johner, I don’t think you have any idea how different you are from what you were. Part of the reason that women find you so attractive now is the contrast between the big roughhewn man that you are physically, and how gentle you are on the inside. Women react to that combination, believe me. I sure did." She smiled tenderly at him.
He shook his head, mystified. "OK, if you say so; I’m not going to try to understand that. Anyway, I think what you said about Heather is right; I suppose I must look pretty good next to her father. But anybody would, Connor! There are guys around the office twenty five years younger than me, and God knows better looking. Why me?"
"Those guys didn’t hold her and let her cry. They didn’t show compassion for her pain."
"They didn’t have the opportunity---but in honesty I gotta say that a lot of them wouldn’t have anyhow. Too concerned with their masculine images. In spite of what you say," he grinned up her from under his brows, "I’m not concerned about my image; you get over that as you get older. I’ve got enough history behind me now to be sure that I’m a man; I don’t need to prove it."
"You sure don’t need to prove it to me. I’ve had ample evidence."
He grinned. "Yeah, I guess you should know if anybody does. But I don’t mind proving it to you. In fact, I kind of enjoy it."
"Kind of? You kind of enjoy it? From what went on last night, I’d say it’s pretty clear that you ‘kind of’ enjoy it! I think you reached a new high in moaning and groaning; I’m afraid the neighbors are going to start complaining!"
"Let’em complain. It’ll be pure jealousy."
"That it will. Johner, I suppose it’s still too early to go to bed?"
"It’s never too early to go to bed. Or too late. Or too anything. Let’s go."
*********
Heather’s interest in Johner only grew as the days went by. It was obvious to everyone, and Johner took a lot of heat about it, but George didn’t think it was funny. "What the hell are you trying to do? Corner the market in beautiful women?"
"George, please! I don’t like this any more than you do, but I don’t know what I can do about it. It’s damn embarrassing."
George gave one of his infrequent grins. "Yeah, I suppose it is. But damn it all, she’s my great niece! I know you haven’t done anything, but you’d better not, or I’ll ruin whatever’s left of you when Connor gets through."
Johner grinned ruefully. "She wouldn’t leave enough to bother with." He thought about that for a minute. "But you know, George, maybe Connor’s the person to handle this situation. Hm-m." He wandered away down the hall, deep in thought.
He took Connor out to eat that night to their special occasion restaurant, where the food was so good that even Johner was willing to pay the exorbitant bill once or twice a year Connor ate her dinner with great pleasure, but she knew that Johner would be presenting another kind of bill; he was salving his conscience because he was going to ask her for something that he felt guilty about.
When dinner was through, she smiled at him over her coffee. "OK, Johner. I appreciate the lovely dinner, ---but just exactly what is it you want me to do for you?"
"How in the hell did you---"
"Oh,
come on, this isn’t the first time you’ve softened me up before you dropped
the boom on me."
"Jesus Christ, Connor! Am I just a clear pane of glass? I didn’t know I do that! You must be bored to death with me, if you know everything I’m going to do!"
She laughed, shaking her head. "Believe me, I don’t know everything; in fact I can’t figure out what it is you want from me this time. So why don’t you tell me."
He looked down at his folded hands. "I think you’re the best person to talk some sense into Heather."
She sat up straight. "What! Are you crazy? I’m the last person! I love you, dummy! I’m supposed to tell her that you’re not worth loving?"
"Come on, Connor. I don’t want you to tell her that. I just want---well, you know, woman talk! I don’t know what you say to each other, but I’ll bet if you think about it, you’ll know the exact words."
"Woman talk? What the hell is that? Jesus, Johner, this time you’ve really thrown me a curve!"
He put both hands on the table, and leaned back in his chair. "Well, I can’t do it! I don’t even say good morning to her any more. I can feel the emotional pressure from fifteen feet away; if I get alone with her I’m scared she’ll throw herself at me. I don’t want to have to peel her off me, Connor."
"God, I don’t want that either; I’m not completely sure you would peel her off. It must feel pretty good to have this beautiful young girl nuts about you, doesn’t it? Come on, Johner, admit it; it feels good."
He smiled, and spoke a little reluctantly. "Sure it does. I’m human, and I’m getting old. It’s a real shot in the arm, if you want to know the truth. But Connor, all the young girls in the world aren’t worth five minutes of my time with you. However good she may look to me, and I’ll admit there’s a certain amount of attraction there, do you think I’d risk what we have for some little bit of fluff? Not in this world."
He reached across the table for her hand. "Connor, nothing, no one, could ever come between us. Not from my side."
"And not from mine." She turned her hand up to grasp his.
They were silent for a moment, looking at each other.
"OK." She squeezed his hand,
then picked up her coffee cup. "I’ll talk to her. I don’t have
a clue what to say, but I’ll think of something."