11: Insight

"Oh, look Evie!" Lily grabbed her around the shoulders and twisted slightly as they made their way towards the subway. "It's Henry opening the grocery. See him waving at you?"

With more than a little reluctance, Evelyn glanced over and with a polite smile, lifted a hand in response to his wave. "Why must you do this to me, Lily?"

"For heaven's sake, he's excited. He's been out here every morning since we were at the grocery, just to make sure he sees you on your way to work. It's cute."

With a quiet sigh, Evelyn hurried her pace. She'd resigned herself to the fact that Lily was insistent on playing matchmaker, but that didn't mean she had to like it. For the life of her, she couldn't understand why there was even a drive. What good would it do? Everyone around her was constantly scraping to get by— could barely afford to take care of themselves. Veering across the sidewalk, she checked behind her for Lily and descended into the subway.

And relationship expectations— why, she simply didn't think she could bear them. Be the perfect wife. Be the perfect mother. Be the perfect housekeeper and cook and lover and make everyone happy and find a way to afford it all and consider yourself fulfilled by that. How was she supposed to make someone else happy when she couldn't even do that for herself?

Fishing a dime out of her purse, she deposited it and quickly rolled through the turnstile, following the shuffling crowd out to the platform. She scarcely managed half that with only herself and Lily and mostly, it was grueling, stressful, overwhelming and anxiety-producing, and not in any way satisfying. In fact, relationships for someone like her— well, they were simply hopeless. Unless you had all the money in the world so you could hire someone else to take care of all those other things you had to do just to live, you had no possibility of entertaining one.

Waiting beside Lily, Evelyn's eyes drifted over the men around her. How did one even live with a man? What was that like? For the most part, they seemed little beyond overgrown children, constantly in need of care and more care. Except perhaps Mr. James— he certainly had himself together— but she supposed that was because he had all the money in the world. No prince like that was out searching somewhere for her.

If she were to marry, would she constantly be kicking some man's shoes around like she did Lily's abandoned ones when she came over to listen to the radio in the evening? Cleaning up their splashes from the sink and straightening their towel? Washing twice as many dishes? And, God help her, hauling load after load of heavy laundry up and down four flights of stairs— or more!— to wash and dry and iron and hang? She wasn't even living with someone and already she was exhausted. 

"Evie!"

At her shoulder, Lily wrapped a hand around her arm and shook her lightly. 

"Where on earth are you? You haven't heard a word I've said." Lily's bright blue eyes were lit with amusement. "I hope you weren't thinking about Henry because that was a terrible scowl you were wearing."

Evelyn's gaze flicked to her friend, her desire to blurt the truth warring with her reluctance to engage Lily on the topic further. "It's just work," she lied, raising her voice to be heard over the screeching brakes and the whoosh of the wind as their train pulled to a stop at the platform. 

As they moved into the traincar together, Lily pressed her. "Really? I thought you were happy about consolidating Mr. James' records and only having one office to deal with."

"About that I am." Grabbing the overhead handloop to share with Lily, she braced herself as the train lurched forward. "I couldn't get it done soon enough. Monday will be the first business day of April though. Between the Fair opening on the thirtieth and some big project opening Mr. James has on the west coast on May nineth, the next few weeks are going to become hectic."

"You're not worried he would fire you, are you?"

"I don't know. This'll be the first work I'm doing in earnest. I'm a bit worried."

Lily gave her a wicked smile. "After all that talk about him rescuing you from Mrs. Stiles, you haven't figured it out?"

"Figured what out?"

"Why he hired you."

Evelyn's memory flashed to the day Mrs. Stiles had fired her, when he'd come to the apartment to rehire her and the heart-stopping smile he'd given her as he'd left. True, he had a strange way of looking down his nose, with his sometimes blue-sometimes green eyes boring into her and his expression otherwise a blank mask— but really, given how much taller than she he was, he could scarcely do anything else. Besides the discomfort she felt facing such an intent stare, he'd never been the least unkind to her, nor had he been inappropriate as so many other financers might have. "I'm not certain I like what you imply."

Shaking her golden head of looping curls and rolling her eyes, Lily laughed. "Didn't I tell you? The day of the— other Mr. James'— accident. Remember? That the Trust wouldn't dilly-dally getting someone to take over those accounts. And who better than his workaholic brother who reviewed them every month already? That he'd need a secretary who could fill in the rest of the gaps and that Mrs. Stiles wouldn't get a lick of say in it."

A bright smile spread over Evelyn's face. "You did say that as a matter of fact. I had no idea my best friend could see the future."

With a pert smile, Lily arched her brows. "What does that silly promotional pamphlet for the Fair say? 'Familiarity with today is the best preparation for the future'. Well, Evie, you certainly lived up to that."

**

Perhaps I have, Evelyn thought, standing just behind the liftman's shoulder and riding the executive lift to the thirty-eighth floor all by herself. Though really, Mr. James was hardly her greatest worry. Today at least. If nothing else, he couldn't afford to fire her with all the last minute preparation meetings going on over at the World's Fair Corporation office in the Empire State Building— if he did, he wouldn't have anyone to answer his phone and collect his innumerable messages for him. 

"Here you are." Depressing a button, the liftman opened the elevator doors, holding them while she exited. "Have a good day, miss."

Glancing back over her shoulder, Evelyn watched him with a gentle smile as the doors closed. 

Since the entire thirty-eighth floor consisted of only two offices— Mr. James' and that of the Trust's lawyer— the lobby area was a simple narrow hallway at best with a round decorative table supporting a large vase of beautiful cut flowers that were refreshed every day. To the left, one entered the door to the lawyer's private waiting area, where his secretary and paralegals kept their offices as well, and to the right, one entered the door to Mr. James' private waiting area, Evelyn's office, and beyond it, Mr. James'. 

Checking the knob, she found it locked, and retrieving the key from her purse, opened it for herself for the first time. Turning on the lights as she went, Evelyn made her way to her desk, tucking her lunch and the light shawl she'd worn against the slight chill in the air this morning into the single-door walnut armoire for her private use in the corner behind the matching walnut desk. 

Between her office area and Mr. James', a narrow hallway led to the floor's shared kitchenette, much grander than the one provided for the financer's on the lower floors. Switching on the lamps here, she busied herself making coffee, delighted to spend her minutes watching as the clear glass vacuum pot coffee maker brewed while she washed Mr. James' mug.

That made her frown. He was still using the pink Federal Glass cup she'd brought for him from home. Setting it on the counter, she checked some of the other cabinets, but found no others except the ones labeled as belongings of the law office staff. Well, turning off the gas burner beneath the coffee maker, Evelyn watched as the vacuum drew the brewed coffee into the pot below, it'll have to do for now. She'd ask him about his own mug later. 

Dropping a sugar cube into the bottom, she lifted the upper bulb of used grounds off the pot and set it aside on its stand to cool. What a marvelous device, she thought, studying it. With a spoon, she stirred until the sugar cube was dissolved. 

Mr. James' personal office was locked as she'd expected, but opened with her key, and turning on the room's lamps as she went, she left the coffee for him on his massive desk. The spacious room was covered along one wall with walnut shelves that housed the myriad account records he kept, and in the corner behind the door, an oval glass-topped conference table where Mr. James could host meetings with account holders, other Trust staff and potential clients. Opposite the table, with a wall of large windows behind it was Mr. James' exquisite walnut executive desk and wingchair, with two comfortable wingchairs for guests before it that could be turned to face a small sofa against the wall by the door and create a tiny but comfortable sitting area for less formal meetings.

Drawing the heavy drapes aside on the first of the windows, Evelyn covered her mouth with her fingers and smiled at the incredible view. She'd only a few times in her life been places with a yawning vista such as this— from here, it felt like she could look out over the entire world, survey it like its reigning queen. Lingering a few seconds to admire the blue sky and the brightness of the sunshine as she went from window to window, at the last one she giggled, then turned to return to her desk.  

Gasping, Evelyn staggered backwards against the wall, breaking her fall with one hand while the other clutched at her chest. "Mr. James! My goodness! You startled me."

Andrew James stood stock still in the doorway, his longcoat draped over one arm, his hat held at the end of it, staring intently in his odd way. There was a deep line between his brows, and his eyes— blue today against the pale green of his dress shirt and deep green pinstriped tie— wore dark circles, as if he hadn't slept well.

Evelyn recognized what that meant immediately. 

“Good morning, Mr. James. There's fresh coffee for you. Is there anything else I can do to get you started well?" 

Frozen, he stared down at her for several long seconds, then stepped behind the door to hang his hat and coat on the coat rack there. "Good morning, Miss Moore. The coffee will have to do for now. I've a busy day ahead and I'm a bit slow getting moving today."

“You’ve missed breakfast." She watched him cross the room and take a seat at his desk. "There's a bagel shop nearby— Murphy's. I believe you stop there sometimes. Shall I fetch you something?”

“That would be lovely.” Andrew reached into his breast pocket for some cash, but before he could tell her what to get for him, Evelyn rattled it off perfectly.

“How did you know that?”

“Know what, sir?”

“What I’d like from the bagel shop.”

“Oh.” She shrugged, approaching to stand before him. “It’s the same every time you’ve stopped to get something. I keep track of those things.”

Andrew stared up at her. "You keep track of things. About me?” When Evelyn nodded, he asked, “What things?”

“I've noticed that— you’re not a morning person." Catching the faintest curl at the corner of his lips, Evelyn felt more confident and, smiling now herself, pressed on. "And there’s little point trying to get a word out of you before you’ve had coffee.”

Surprisingly, Mr. James blushed and grinned, a bright breath-taking smile that made her heart beat a little faster. Unable to help herself, she blushed in return, embarrassed by her response to him.

“Go on," he encouraged, still grinning. "What else?”

“When you miss your breakfast, there’s a frown line between your brows.” Using herself as a visual aid, she lightly touched the space between her brows with a slim finger. “And when something’s upsetting you, the only thing that cheers you up is a Kit Kat bar.”

With a fond smile and distant eyes, she added, “Your brother was the same way."

Focusing on this Mr. James before her Evelyn studied his handsome face. "I think you’re embarrassed by that."

"Why would you say that?"

"Because you always tuck the wrapper into your pocket and throw it in the lobby trash rather than in your office trash.”

At that, Mr. James burst into laughter and rose, coming around the desk to her. “I was wrong about you, Miss Moore."

"Wrong?" Alarmed, her eyes went wide and she stared up at him.

"You’re not merely clever. You’re unexpectedly dangerous."

Incredulous, Evelyn glanced away. "Dangerous? For being attentive?"

"Yes, dangerous. Your observation skills are unexpected and impressive. Then again, I spend more of my week with you than anyone else, so perhaps there's something there as well. It's not a complaint, Miss Moore. At least now I can stop carrying my trash out with me." Grinning, he offered an elbow to Evelyn. “Come on. We’ll both go. I could do with the walk to clear my head and some interesting company.”

**

The Trust's lobby teemed with life as they crossed the parquet floors towards the revolving door. Suited clients and various financers just arriving for the day rushed past them, some carrying briefcases and other relevant and undoubtedly important documents and papers, and everyone hurrying, carefully ducking and weaving past one another so as not to slow their pace. Sprinkled in, liveried building staff wandered through, delivering parcels, directing and escorting clients and managing subtle housekeeping duties, such as sweeping, wiping clean windows and doors, and updating floral arrangements.

Slowing his long strides, Andrew let Evelyn set the pace and kept alongside her. He'd scarcely seen any of the faces of the people who passed them, but after her revelation this morning, he wondered how much Evelyn Moore saw than everyone else, precisely how much she took in.

With such fine graces and the sweet wholesomeness of her demeanor, if she was as tactful at actively extracting information as she was at passively acquiring it, then Andrew had inadvertently obtained a veritable font of untapped utility when he'd anticipated only a secretary familiar with some upside-down accounts.

Curious suddenly as to the extent of her perception, he pressed her. “Have you met Mrs. James?"

Beside him, Evelyn’s stride faltered and he looked down, surprised to see she was uncomfortable with the presented question. Unconsciously yet still utterly provocative, she sucked her full bottom lip into her mouth, wetting it before answering. Riveted by the gesture, his eyes followed every aspect of her movements as the first touch of hot desire for her unraveled in his broad chest, sending a jolt of excitement to his loins. 

"I— I have. Not often, but a few times she came to see your brother at his office. And I saw her with you at his funeral."

"What have you observed about her?”

Beside him, Evelyn slowed, coming to a complete stop not far from the revolving door. Pacing with her, Andrew had slowed too, and now wheeled to face her.

A controlled panic was plainly visible in her silvery blue eyes and in the second he recognized it, Andrew was sucked in, mesmerized. This was her true power, this ability to forge an instantaneous and deep connection, to lead you where she wanted to go with a remarkably direct and simultaneously submissive tether.

“You aren’t going to be in trouble, no matter what you say," Andrew assured her. "You demonstrate exceptional intuition, Miss Moore. I’d genuinely like to know your impression.”

Glancing about first, she whispered, “Perhaps not here.” Silently, she led him across the lobby, and exited the building through the revolving door.

Of course she was correct in this as well. Prompted by her heightened awareness, abruptly Andrew recognized how many familiar faces and attentive ears were tuned to them, razor sharp and keen for the gossip.

The two walked the four blocks to the bagel shop in silence, but once inside, Andrew pressed her again, low and soft after he'd verified there was no one inside he knew. “I’m determined to know, Miss Moore. What do your instincts tell you about Mrs. James?”

Evelyn exhaled a resigned sigh. “You and Mrs. James don’t like one another."

Andrew’s brows flicked up and he nodded. "Go on."

"You view her as a disrespectful parasite and she considers you an oblivious and uptight nuisance.”

“That’s remarkably precise. How did you determine that?”

Without immediately answering, Evelyn's eyes skimmed the shop's occupants. Choosing a couple awaiting their order together at a bistro table, she pointed them out to him. "You see? Just there? Watch them a moment."

Perched on the edges of the chairs on opposite sides of the table, the couple leaned towards one another, reducing the space between them to mere inches as they talked. Gazing adoringly into each other's eyes as they talked, the corners of their mouths curled in perpetual smiles.

Andrew recognized what she meant immedately. Love. The two were in love.

“When couples are truly in love you can hear it in the tone they use to talk to one another. How closely they sit to each other. See it in their touch.” She shrugged. “When she’s around, both of you stand opposite like fighters, rather than beside each other, like—.” Evelyn stopped herself abruptly, sudden insight upon her. 

“Like lovers?” When Evelyn nodded, he stepped closer than he already was, tipping his head close to her ear and continued more softly, his tone intrigued, “Was she that way with my brother?”

Evelyn was decidedly uncomfortable under the circumstances, but Andrew was testing his own theory now. The question was direct and there was no way for her to avoid answering.

“Charlotte James is always willful, but I do think she was genuinely fond of your brother and he was devoted to her care and that of their children, regardless of the reason they were separated.”

Andrew took a step back, crossed his arms over his chest and looked away. It wasn’t what he’d expected to hear, but he had no doubt it was the truth as Evelyn Moore had seen it. “It’s a useful skill you have, Miss Moore. Thank you.”

**