Chapter 8

February 11-13, 2012

We were greeted by wind and chilly rain when we landed in New York. Fortunately, the in-flight bumps and dreary skies were made up for by Diane's sunny "welcome back," and of course, her delightful disposition. I was amused by the thought that I might never be able to take the girls on a commercial airline after their recent experiences with private jets.

This time when we left the airplane, I had Diane's business card in my pocket. Most of the time, I am simply puzzled by the actions of women. Of course, most men are in that same boat, I believe. I got Diane's card despite the fact, or perhaps because of the fact, she had seen Grace's rather passionate and tearful leave-taking. Maybe it was just my Robert Burns animal magnetism. I laughed at the thought of it. James Anderson would never have done these things, but I was no longer James Anderson, and the rules had changed.

The girls were awed by their New York home. I was too. My decorator, Kristine, had done a masterful job. The living and dining rooms were transformed – warm colors and plush comfortable furniture had replaced the sterile modern art museum stuff that, to me, was as painful to sit on as it was to look at. Somehow, in the short time I was gone she'd managed to get the furniture delivered and everything arranged perfectly. There were even fresh flowers in several locations. Now the place looked like it could be lived in by real people. There was even a large print of Claude Monet's water lilies over the fireplace. It was a favorite of mine, and somehow she'd remembered that I had mentioned I was a fan of the Impressionists.

While we were still in Texas, I had offered each of the girls her own bedroom when we got to New York, but they had declined. So, by phone and text I had consulted with Kristine about what their bedroom should look like – actually it was pretty much Kristine's doing that brought gasps of delight as the girls first viewed their new room.

Kristine had added a couple of desks that matched the Shaker style of the beds and dressers and on each was a new MacBook Air. Soft draperies framed the floor to ceiling windows, and an early-American oval carpet tied it all together. Somehow, she had even managed to get some framed movie posters from the Twilight Saga and Hunger Games. I looked closer and saw they were autographed. I wondered what those were going to cost me. Actually I didn't care. I could afford it, and it was worth every penny to see the smiles on Airlea's and Roksana's faces.

Tired, we tried to make and an early night of it. We were all yawning as I read from one of Airlea's books as we snuggled under a thick wool throw on the big sofa in front of the fire. Well, at least I tried to make an early night of it - the girls were still talking and giggling as I passed their door on my way to bed, after a "goodnight," 11 pm my time, "good morning," 5 am her time, call to Cecilia. She claimed that she was an early riser starting her day with yoga and then a run through the pre-dawn countryside. I sat in front of the fire in the dark living room sharing my day with her via Skype, as the sheeting rain on the windows turned the New York view into its own Impressionist painting.

Sunday morning found us in a booth at my neighborhood café. The girls were up earlier than I expected, and since no shopping had been done, there was little food in the place, so I convinced them we should brave the spitting cold rain and eat at my favorite breakfast place. I figured we could make a grocery list while at breakfast and call it in when we got home. Maybe the first thing on my list should be, "hire a cook!"

Robyn looked beautiful and youthful as ever when I spotted her coming out of the kitchen. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she was wearing fitted jeans and a very nicely filled out red cashmere sweater. She smiled but raised a quizzical eyebrow when she saw me sitting in a booth with the girls instead of being alone at my usual place at the counter.

Single mug and coffee pot in hand, she came over to the booth and said, "Welcome back, Robert," as she poured my coffee.

She paused, looked at the girls who were wearing jeans, matching blue sweaters and their shearling-lined bomber jackets, and then at me, and said with a smile, "Robert, if I'd known you liked younger women, I'd have asked you out myself!"

She winked at the girls, which resulted in the expected giggles.

"Robyn, these are my daughters, Anna and Lea."

She looked at them and then at me and deadpanned, "their mother must be quite a beauty." I laughed getting her joke. The girls took it as a compliment and just smiled.

I caught Robyn taking a quick glance at my ring finger, perhaps wondering what my status really was. We had flirted before I left for Chicago, and I'd about convinced myself I should ask her out, but I always hesitated because of our age difference. I'd not shared much about my life with her, but I had told her I was going to Chicago on business, and wasn't sure when I'd be back.

"I'm happy to meet you. Your dad is a regular here. Are you visiting?" Nice segue, I thought, now she can get the answer from the girls.

"No, we're living with Dad now ... and he's never going to leave again," replied Roksana almost matter of factly.

Without hesitation, Robyn got right to it, "Mom too?"

Roksana paused and looked at Robyn - perhaps just then realizing that Robyn wasn't just a waitress, but a very attractive young woman. Even at twelve, she caught the fact there was perhaps some attraction by Robyn for her father. I kept silent - wondering where this was going and how Roksana would answer.

Finally Roksana said, "Our mothers are no longer living ... and he's all we have now."

She said it in such a way that no one could miss the protectiveness she was trying to convey. Airlea, being a year younger seemed a little puzzled at first but then she caught on. Her eyes narrowed as she quickly straightened, as if to make herself larger in the face of a predator.

Robyn seemed to take an involuntary step back. She had her answer, but at the same time she discovered a couple of lion cubs who became lionesses where there father was concerned.

I struggled to keep a straight face. Roksana and Airlea had warmed immediately to Grace, but I had prepared them, and they had met Grace via FaceTime before we traveled to Dallas. Robyn had come out of the blue.

Slightly flushed, Robyn put the plastic-coated menus in front of us, took the girl's orders for hot chocolate, and retreated.

I glanced at Roksana and caught a brief look of satisfaction that bordered on smugness. This was a side to Roksana I'd not seen before. We studied our menus for a few moments. Finally I said, "Robyn's a nice person."

Both the girls looked up. Roksana figured out I was trying to defuse things and she replied, "She's awfully young."

"Yes..." I said, looking at Roksana, leaving the word in the air.

Roksana, with some steel in her voice said, "She's too young to be our mother."

I smiled and said, "Don't I get some say in the matter?"

Roksana looked at Airlea, and they looked back at me and in unison said, "No!"

We all laughed. By the time Robyn came back to take our orders, we were smiling and laughing, mostly over the requests they made to the growing list of grocery items I was putting on my iPad. I definitely needed a cook!

As the meal progressed and Robyn brought refills of chocolate and coffee, things loosened up. She really did have a winning personality, and once the girls figured out she wasn't a serious candidate to be their "new mother" things got better.

After she cleared the dishes and returned with a coffee refill, I asked, "In that coven you live in, might there be a certified elementary or middle school teacher?" Robyn looked puzzled, maybe trying to figure out where that question had come from. I quickly added, "I want the girls to be home-schooled."

"Oh. Well, it's more like a kennel and the descriptive word for the inhabitants starts with a 'B' not a 'W!'" she laughed.

Roksana tried to stifle a giggle. Airlea looked puzzled until Roksana leaned over and whispered in her ear. Airlea then giggled.

I tried unsuccessfully to keep a straight face. Robyn smiled and went on, "Well there is one, and I know she's got a degree in early childhood education from the University of Iowa, loves children, and could come to work right away."

"That's great news. Would you ask her to call me, maybe even today? I'd like to have her come by our place for an interview."

"Could you do the interview right now?" she asked smirking.

"I think so..." I said looking at my watch, and at the same time catching on. The girls giggled.

"Oh, right! Well Robyn ... I don't even know your last name."

"It's Weiss."

"Okay ... Ms. Weiss, have a seat." Roksana, who was sitting on the outside of the booth across from me moved to sit next to me and Robyn sat in her just vacated spot.

"Why do you think you're qualified?"

For the next thirty-minutes, between getting coffee refills and taking orders for other customers, Robyn told us about growing up on a farm in Iowa, and her dream of being an actress. Fortunately, it was a slow time at the café, so we were not interrupted much. Her parents, hard-headed German folks, but sensible in my book, insisted she have a profession to fall back on. So she majored in education and drama, and after graduation she got a job in a school district in Des Moines. At the same time she got some parts with a local amateur theater company. After two years, some of her fellow thespians convinced her that she should join them in their move to the Big Apple. In the two years since, she'd only managed some work doing radio jingles, a bit part or two on cable, and some way off-Broadway stuff by serious unknowns. She was pretty much resigned to buying a plane ticket home in the next couple of months.

After hearing Robyn's story and being around her for an hour or so, the girls warmed to her considerably.

I smiled and said, "Well Ms. Weiss, I think you have excellent qualifications, but I have to put it to a vote of the student body."

"Ms. Airlea Burns, how do you vote?" She looked at Robyn and nodded.

"Now, Ms. Roksana Burns, how do you vote?" Roksana smiled and just said, "Yes."

"Ms. Weiss, it appears we are in agreement, but there are a couple of things you should know about the position. First, it is offered as a live-in position, and that includes all meals."

Robyn, for the first time, looked a little uncertain. "I don't even know where you live."

"We live on the twentieth floor of the Trump Parc, and you would have your own room and bath. And, I've decided I'm going to hire a full-time cook. Will that suit?" I tried to keep the amusement out of my voice.

She looked at me for a couple of seconds and then at the girls who were smiling, and then answered, "Yes."

I was surprised when Roksana got up and went to Robyn and hugged her. She said, "Our house is beautiful, and I know you'll love it there." I was a really astounded by the change in attitude about Robyn, but I guess the girls finally realized that Robyn was closer to their age than mine, and she would probably not pose a threat to our relationship. God help her if that was not so, I thought with some amusement.

The girls went off to the bathroom and I said, "Do you want to discuss salary?"

"Oh." she said. "I'm a little overwhelmed. Suddenly I've become a teacher again."

"Second thoughts?"

"No. It's just that this morning I had pretty much made up my mind to head back home with my tail between my legs and beg some school district to take me so I wouldn't have to live with my parents. Now this. I hope this isn't a dream."

"Oh, am I in some of your dreams?" I teased.

I was surprised when her face reddened. "Maybe one or two." she said quietly.

Now it was my turn to be surprised.

"About the salary," I said changing the subject. "Would seventy-five thousand a year plus vacation and medical work for you?"

"Now I know I'm dreaming!" she laughed.

I laughed too and put out my hand to seal the deal. I would have liked to say that sparks flew when we touched, but her hand was simply soft and warm, although I found it pleasant to touch. She was a beautiful young woman after all. Of course, I was now her employer too. I wondered how I'd handle things like payroll, social security, retirement plan, health insurance and the like. Did I have a retirement plan for my employee? I had employees at my firm in Atlanta, but I had human resources to take care of the details. Now I was going to have to figure it out. Maybe it was time to find a CPA too. Oh, and find and hire a cook!

"Robyn, as soon as you're done today, why don't you come over and look at our place? I've still got two unoccupied bedrooms - you can take your pick."

She flushed again. I wondered what that was about. Had she thought she'd be sharing my bedroom? Suddenly the thought of waking up to a naked warm Robyn each day caused me to flush too, and created another anatomical reaction to an infusion of blood. With some effort I pushed those thoughts away. I knew one of the stupidest things an employer could do was start sleeping with his employees. Well, a guy can dream anyway, I thought.

"Robert?" she said. I realized I'd not heard her question.

"Sorry, I was distracted, what did you ask?"

She smiled. I knew I was caught, but she certainly didn't seem offended.

"I said I was off shift already, and I'd be happy to go back with you and the girls and look at your place now ... if that's alright?"

"Great idea – it'll give you an idea of what you've signed on for!"

"Okay, I'll go get my things and let Mel know he needs to look for a replacement!" she said with a laugh.

Then she came around to my side of the booth, bent toward me and kissed me softly on the lips. The kiss lingered a bit as we thoroughly enjoyed the contact, and my erotic thoughts about Robyn came back with a vengeance.

All too soon the kiss was over, and as she stood over me I watched her very nice breasts rising and falling. She lightly touched the side of my face with warm fingers, and as I looked into her blue eyes I saw a great deal of passion there.

She turned and headed for the kitchen exaggerating her hip movements for my benefit. I smiled and shook my head and tried to think about Cecilia.

As I sat finishing the last of my coffee, out of the corner of my eye I noticed a woman approaching. She ended up standing next to me at the booth. I looked up at her. She was a tall, very thin, thirty-something, with short auburn hair. Her gorgeous but troubled green eyes were mesmerizing.

"Mr. Burns? I know you must be Mr. Burns, I've heard Robyn talk about you. May I sit down?"

"Please do." She sat across from me where Robyn had been. Her short sleeve cotton sweater was inadequate for the weather, and she had a careworn look about her. Not the kind you see from an alcoholic or a junkie, just the tired look of someone who has been kicked a few too many times. There was beauty there too. I smiled at her trying to lighten her mood.

"Can I get you something?"

She shook her head, tears forming in the corners of her eyes.

"I'm Rachel Hampton ... I just wanted to meet you and thank you for what ... what you've done over the last couple of weeks for me and my daughter, Sophie." As she said "Sophie" she nodded in the direction of a booth near the back where a dark-haired girl of about eight or nine was engrossed in a book.

I nodded my understanding, seeing she had more to say.

"Having someone ... and I'm pretty sure it was you, pay for all our meals here the last couple of weeks has been ... been miraculous. Mel, the owner, lets us sleep on the couch in his office in the back and use his bathroom, but ... well I just ... eating here ... Well ... I know Mel is a dear for providing a roof for us ... but, I just didn't want him to have to provide our food too. It was too much ... Do you understand?" A tear rolled down her cheek.

"Yes."

"When we came in here three weeks ago ... we had just been evicted, and it was snowing, and I didn't know what to do. Mel lets us stay ... so I help with the bookkeeping and payroll and the paperwork for his taxes. I just don't know what I would have done without his ... and your kindness. I couldn't keep Sophie in the shelter each night. It's an awful place. Thank you." The tears flowed now.

I reached my hand across the table and took one of her delicate hands. It was cold. She made no attempt to pull away as she used her other hand to retrieve a tissue from her pocket.

"I'm sorry for blubbering. I just wanted ... to thank you ... tell you that I'll repay you ... and Mel someday." Her eyes melted my heart.

It was no great stretch of the imagination to realize that Rachel might be just what I was looking for - at least she appeared to be. Of course taking in another woman and a child – well what the hell I thought, in for a penny...

"Rachel, what's your background?"

"My husband Jake died of an overdose ... all our money went for his drugs. He used to be a successful accountant..."

When she paused to wipe her tears I lightly squeezed her hand and interjected, "Sorry, you misunderstand. What I meant was, what's your training, education, your occupation? Bookkeeper?"

She shook her head. "No, I'm a CPA. I've done all those other things of course." I saw a glimmer of hope in her tear-filled eyes.

"Well perhaps you'll consider working for me."

As she looked at me, a mixture of emotions crossed her face.

"Do you need a bookkeeper?" she asked quietly.

"No, I need a CPA, and a bookkeeper, and probably a personal assistant - someone who can manage my personal investment accounts as well as manage the expenses of a growing household. Does that sound like something you'd be interested in doing?"

She stared at me, perhaps doubting what she'd heard.

"Yes ... Yes, I would."

"Could you start right away?"

There was a hint of amusement in her green eyes as I asked that silly question.

"Well my work schedule is pretty full, but I might manage to be available, say this afternoon." Her smile was a delightful ray of sunshine.

The position comes with room and board." This speech was beginning to sound familiar.

She withdrew her hand. Suddenly she was back to being uncertain and guarded.

I put up my hand to stop her reply. "Rachel, I live in a big condo not far from here with my two daughters, and as of fifteen minutes ago, Robyn signed on to be a live-in teacher for my girls. There's a forth bedroom that has its own bath. It would be plenty big enough for you and Sophie. I know you don't know me, but that's all there is to it. This is not charity, and there's no hidden agenda. I really do need a CPA. You are welcome to live there with us – either until you find your own place or permanently. Of course Sophie would be welcome to join the girls for be home-schooling." Rachel visibly relaxed.

I paused, but couldn't keep the smile off my face as I said, "And the fact you're beautiful has nothing to do with my offer."

Rachel blushed prettily and looked at me for a few moments. I wondered how long it had been since anyone had told her she was beautiful, because she was. Right now I was sure she hardly felt that way, with her worn clothing and constant worry about herself and her daughter, not getting enough sleep, and keeping them out of the weather and the homeless shelter. But I could see through all that. A little time without worry, some exercise, some grooming, and a diet that contained something other than café food would bring back the beauty and personality I saw hidden there.

"Could we come today?" She asked quietly.

"I take that as an acceptance. Of course, you can come today. Robyn's coming along when we leave to look at our place, and you and Sophie should gather your things and plan on moving in."

Tears tracked her cheeks as she sat back closing her eyes, tension flowing from her body, and then she quietly recited, "The flowers appear on the earth. The time of singing has come. And the voice of the turtledove is heard in our land."

I again reached across the Formica-topped table and gently took her cool fingers as I replied, "The fig tree ripens its figs and the vines are in blossom. They give forth fragrance. Arise, my love, my beautiful one, and come away."

Rachel's eyes opened in surprise. "You are a remarkable man, Mr. Burns. Nothing like I imagined."