The Chosen

weekend romance? Vera knew too many good couples whose bonds had snapped under such circumstances. This job offer was phenomenal. She’d be crazy to turn it down if she wasn’t—

If I wasn’t in love, she realized. But I am. And that’s more important to me than money.

That simple truth made her smile. She was in love. Suddenly nothing else mattered, nothing else at all.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Feldspar,” she said. “I appreciate your confidence in me, and I’m grateful for your generosity. But I’m afraid I can’t accept your offer.”

She handed the ten thousand dollar bank check back to him.

“Why not sleep on it?” the man suggested. “Think about it. Why not at least consider trying us out? We won’t hold you to a contract. Come and work for us on a probationary basis. If you don’t like it, or if, in fact, it does burden your relationship, then quit.”

A fair proposal, and a logical one. Vera could not deny that the offer excited her. But she knew. Sleeping on it wouldn’t change that, nor would trying the job out. She knew it would distance her from Paul. And she knew she would not risk that, not for anything.

“I’m sorry,” she repeated.

“Your mind’s made up, I can see.” Feldspar didn’t seem angry at all, nor disappointed. He’d made his pitch and he’d lost. He would simply have to find someone else. “It’s regrettable, and I’m certain that you would do wonderful things for our restaurant, as our restaurant would do wonderful things for you. But your priorities are set, and I see that they’re admirable. I must go now, Ms. Abbot—” Feldspar left a one hundred dollar bill on the table. “I thank you for your consideration, and I wish you luck in all your endeavors.”

“I wish you luck in yours,” she returned.

Feldspar awkwardly stood up, pushed his chair in. His jeweled hand glittered like tiny lights, particularly the amethyst in the gold pinky ring. In the odd man’s eyes, Vera saw it all: no, not anger or disappointment. It was sadness.

Feldspar smiled. “I’m leaving tomorrow morning; I’ll be staying at the Radisson tonight. On the off chance that you should change your mind, please contact me.”

“I will, Mr. Feldspar.”

“Good night then. I’m happy to have made your acquaintance.”

He turned and left. Vera’s eyes followed him out. It wasn’t a limp he walked with but a slight slow-step. Vera felt sad herself, seeing him leave. In a moment the short, broad figure had wended through the standing crowd and disappeared.

Vera finished her Grand Marnier. Something seemed to struggle in her psyche, but the notion quelled. Her love was worth more than money. She knew she’d done the right thing.

It was time to go home now, back to her life and to her love.

— | — | —

^{CHAPTER THREE}

His mind seemed to disperse as though his skull had dissolved. Lights ran like smeared neon. Where am I? Who am I? He wasn’t sure. Gradually all that was real to him transposed with a thousand unreal ecstasies. Shapes moved like intent chiffon blobs through the close space of wherever he was.

What’s…happening?

He saw voices and heard tastes.