Текст книги "Lovers and Reprisals"

Автор книги: Lori Turner

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Ona said...

“That brings me to my point.”  She wore a serious expression when she said...

“I don’t need you here Caleb.  My program is up and running fine–everything is in place.  But mom and dad...they need your help.  Just think how much more they can get done, with another set of experienced hands.  You’ve helped them build schools in the past.  You know everything there is to know, and it makes perfect since that you join them in the Congo.”

The siblings traded glances.  Last year, Ona and Caleb had worked alongside their parents, but this year she was running her own project.  And she was right.  She didn’t need him, and he wondered what had prevented him from coming to the same conclusion.  Then it hit him; he understood the reason that had kept him from joining his parents.  She stood a hairbreadth just below his chin if she was wearing flat shoes.  She had a complexion that was a smooth rich shade of coffee with a hefty dose of cream.  And her eyes–Caleb had stared into the well of her eyes, even though he’d known that the temptation was to great and his agony grew each time they parted ways.  He could admit this to himself, but as for his siblings; he couldn’t divulge this secret to Ona or Noah.

Noah said...

“If you leave in a day or two, you could be with our parents in less than five days.  Caleb...Ona is right.  The beginning of this year had presented us with challenges, but Ona is well, and she’s knee deep in her project.  It’s time for you to do the same.  If she needs anything, she has our Sect family to depend upon.  As long as she lives in this commune, she’s never completely alone.”

Noah spoke definitively, as if Caleb had no other options  to consider.  Caleb lowered his eyes, shifting his concentration on his soup.  The Zelle’s had been good to him, and their generosity went beyond feeding, clothing and giving him a home.  Zachary and Aldeara loved him, as if he’d been born into their family.

He lay the spoon in the bowl, and even though he felt weighed down by this choice, he found the strength to say...

“I’ll contact the Conclave in the morning.”

“Good.”  Noah said...  “Mom and dad will be so pleased to see you.”

Caleb nodded thoughtfully, but his concerns weren’t for his parents.  He couldn’t leave without talking to Rachel and he wasn’t sure at what point she’d began to matter to him.  The rest of the evening, Ona talked about future plans for her project, and Noah told her about the bridge construction.  They had their projects to keep them busy, and the time had come for him to busy his hands.  He remembered one of the Samaritan Creeds he’d been taught shortly after he’d been adopted.  Idle hands are of no help to others, and since the start of the New Year, he’d been idle long enough.

**********

Ona waved at the last of the children leaving the building.  They were laughing and skipping as if they didn’t have a care in the world.  Two of the children had experienced the unpleasantness of witnessing their parent being murdered.  On their first day, they had stood off in a corner, hesitantly watching and unsure if they wanted to participate.  Oh, what a difference her project had made and most of the children had experienced positive results.  She reminded herself that this was the reason she did this.  Those smiling faces were her motivation to do whatever had to be done to expand and help as many children as she could.  Ona’s heart was galloping at a steady pace and she was on the brink of hysteria.  She closed her eyes, then she mentally counted backwards, starting at ten in her head.  She could hear the children saying...

“Goodbye Miss Ona...”

She didn’t reply and she knew that Sahara and Rachel weren't far behind them.  When she opened her eyes, she watched them wave, then Rachel told the children to go straight home.  Ona directed her eyes on the clock and she didn’t notice when the two women had joined her.

Sahara said...

"I checked each station and everything appears to be properly stored."

Ona absentmindedly nodded then she said...

"Thank you Sahara."

Her voice trembled a bit, and Sahara rightly detected her apprehension.  She shared a glance with Rachel, and her gaze was returned with a knowing set of hazel eyes.  Rachel's gaze hinted that it was best to remain quiet.

Rachel rounded the counter, pretending that an awkward moment had not been averted, when she said...

"Do you want to share a cab?"

This was an obvious zinger, because they lived in opposite directions.  Sahara wanted to point this out, but Ona responded before she could bring this to their attention.

Ona appeared distracted when she shook her head, and her voice quivered when she said....

"No thank you.  He's sending a car."

Sahara slanted her head at an angle because she sensed some hanky-panky going on.  Earlier, she’d heard talk about Lucien Delors but that’s all it had been; talk–and now she was hearing different.  She had an opinion and she wanted to be heard.  Sahara flung back one of her dread-locks, when she said...

"So, you’ve decided...  You’re going to take Lucien Delors' up on his offer."

Today when Ona arrived at the center, Rachel had joined her while they prepared for the arrival of the kids.  As they worked, she welcomed any conversation that didn’t involve her or Lucien Delors.  Ona listened and Rachel told her about her afternoon spent with Caleb.  Ona’s heart nearly broke because even though she’d known about Caleb and Rachel; she didn’t know the extent of their relationship.  Rachel had fought back tears because she didn't like the idea of Caleb leaving.  She’d sensed a growing attraction and their friendship didn’t feel like a platonic relationship.  Rachel believed, that given time, due to their shared interest; a romantic connection was just beyond the horizon.  Ona didn’t have much to add on that topic and when the conversation stalled, Ona told Rachel that she'd decided to meet Lucien to discuss their space issues.  The program had outgrown the warehouse and something had to be done, because everyday, children would arrive, and they didn’t have the space to accommodate them.  All day, Ona had toiled over the facts and she had not discussed her problem with either of her brothers before they’d left.  She’d agonized over this, because she'd purposely waited until Caleb and Noah had left the city; then she phoned Lucien to arrange a meeting.  Ona didn't need to read the bible to know that her actions had been a form of deception.  She’d deceived her brothers and that explained her troubled state.

When Rachel contemplated the facts, she felt like the middleman because if it had not been for her, Lucien Delors would never have known about Ona’s problem.  She was to blame, but her intentions had been admirable.  She’d watched, and every time Ona and Lucien shared the same space, an explosion of sorts would erupt, and neither would acknowledge the attraction.  She justified her actions based on what she’d witnessed, then she spoke, saying what she believed Ona needed to hear.

"I can go with you...if you'd like.”  Rachel waited, faking a calm demure and she’d not counted on her coworkers response.

"Or I will."  Sahara chimed in, and her unsolicited remark was a confirmation of Rachel's suspicions.  For months, Rachel had noticed Sahara’s unusual fascination.  In point of fact; if Sahara wasn’t talking about music, her conversations would concern Ona Zelle.  She’d become obsessed–and not in a normal healthy way.  In spite of this knowledge, Rachel had chosen to avoid this uncomfortable topic.  In fact...Rachel had purposely ignored the idea that her roommate had a crush on their friend.  But, now she knew that avoiding the obvious had been an enormous mistake.

Rachel said...

"Sahara...we shouldn't be pushy.  If Ona wants someone to go with her, then we should let her make that choice for herself."

Ona wanted to ask them both to go, but she couldn't bring herself to form the words.  For months now, she had tried not to have feelings for Lucien, and she had lied to herself, pretending that her emotions were rooted in admiration.  But last night when she called him, confirming that she would meet him at the end of the day; she hung up the phone seeped in an over consuming knowledge.  She wanted this meeting; and she wanted to meet with him alone.

Ona braced her hand on the counter, while faking a smile.

"I'll be all right.  You two go home and have a good holiday weekend."

Sahara said...

"Are you sure because..."

Rachel interjected, cutting her off.

"Come on Sahara.  We'll stay and wait with her–but as soon as the driver arrives, we'll part ways because this is something Ona needs to do for herself."

Sahara glared at Rachel when she said...

“Look...for the record; I think she’s making a huge mistake.  We’re getting along fine and I don’t see the problem.”

“Of course you don’t see the problem because you’re tucked away behind a soundproof glass, teaching music classes; while Ona and I are out here, turning away teary eyed kids.“

Rachel had embellished her point for added affect, but on her next point; she simply repeated information that Sahara had shared with her earlier.

“Didn’t you say that Judd is prepared to put in more hours, and that means additional classes.”

This was news to Ona, and she said...

“Sahara, when did he say that?”

Sahara pursed her lips, then she snidely said...

“My brother realized that dating a selfish, rich, think that she’s a princess bitch, wasn’t all he’d thought it would be.”

“Cool it with the language.”  Rachel warned her, and Sahara rolled her eyes because in her mind, the title fit.  She said...

“Bottom-line...Judd is breaking up with Fawn Gustafson.  He plans to tell her in a few days.  I think she’s out of the country or my brother wants to go out of the country...”

Rachel positioned her hand in Sahara’s face, giving her a full view of her palm.  The gesture said it all, and Sahara cooled her jets, giving Rachel the floor to lend a brighter light to the situation.

“Judd is flying to Montreal but when he gets back, he plans to end his relationship.  His girlfriend had been against the idea of him volunteering his time, and since she won’t be in the picture anymore; that kinda makes him a free agent again.”

Ona nodded because now she understood and she wanted Sahara’s support but she didn’t have the willpower to debate the issue.

Ona powered down the computers, then Rachel turned off the lights.  As they walked out of the warehouse, the alarm was set, then they stepped out onto the sidewalk.  It was spring, and the center had closed early.  Ona needed time to make her meeting and get to the dock before that last ferry left.  When the women stepped to the curb, a long black town car turned at the corner.  When the car stopped in front of the building, a driver jumped out, then rounded the vehicle to open the curbside door.  Ona felt a rush of foreboding.  A thousand questions raced in her brain.  She stood frozen, until Rachel touched her elbow saying...

"Don't be nervous.  He likes you and not for the reasons you might think."

Rachel's words had been a declaration of something she'd speculated for months.  She'd seen it in his eyes, and the way he addressed her.  She also knew that she shouldn't give him false hope.  She knew how to discourage unwanted suitors because Geff had not been the first man circling and plotting how or when he would take his chance.  In spite of this, there was something about Lucien that fascinated her and she didn't want to discourage him.

Ona gathered her wits, composing herself when she said...

"Thank you Rachel."

Sahara said...

"This is a bad idea.  Maybe we should go with her."

Rachel braced her hand on Sahara's elbow, then she said...

"Ona will be fine.”  Her eyes bore into Sahara when she added...  “Come on...let’s go home.”

Rachel was practically pushing Sahara down the block when she said over her shoulder...

“Goodbye Ona.  Call me."

They were moving at a steady clip.  Ona watched them, and she contemplated her life.  She had never had a girlfriend much less, a girlfriend that wasn't a Samaritan.  Deep down, she hoped that Caleb saw in Rachel all the fine characteristics she’d come to treasure.  Her lungs released a swell of air because she knew that her friendship with Rachel would live far beyond her project.

“Ma'am...”  The driver said, gaining her attention.  Ona briefly looked at him because she was treading on new territory; grounds that her parents would not approve of.  She smiled at the driver, forcing images of her family in the rear of her brain.  When the driver closed the rear door, she rode in the car, completely unaware of her surroundings.  If her heart beat any faster, she would faint and the only thing that helped was the contrived images of children’s faces.  The children that her program could not accommodate.  That was the reason she was doing this.  She told herself this; even though the utterance was a mistruth intended to sustain her.

Lucien paced the width of the room because nervous energy was all that he had.  He couldn’t abide the fact that she might change her mind, deciding not to come.  All sense told him that something would interfere; given that she lived by a strict set of rules.  He’d paid a staff of people to search the internet for months, digging up whatever they could find pertaining to the Samaritan Religious Sect.  He had made it his personal mission to learn all that he could and with each revelation; his spirits would dive, because the knowledge never seemed to be in his favor.  This had been his fate and for months and weeks, he’d endured this.  That is, until last night, when Ona Zelle called him, requesting that they meet to discuss her charity program.  From the moment the conversation ended, he’d not had one moments rest.  Lucien had demanded a great deal from his staff and he still couldn’t still his nerves.  Everything that could be done had been done, yet he still felt a sense of unpreparedness.

He startled when the intercom chimed, humming with the assistants voice...

“Mr. Delors...Ona Zelle is here...your three O’clock appointment.”

He cleared his throat then he said...

“Send her up.”

His eyes scanned the area.  The entire floor had been gutted, the partitioned off providing office and living space.  He’d decided to have her to meet him in the apartment area but now he was questioning this wisdom in inviting her here.  Regardless of his indecision, it was too late to make a change.  Lucien walked to the elevator, and he adjusted his clothes.  He inhaled deeply, and with the intake of air, he reminded himself of the importance of this meeting.  He didn’t just like this woman; somehow thoughts of her scrolled in his brain like a perpetual loop.

Cling...cling; went the elevator.

When the doors opened, Ona stood on the lift, completely out of her element.  Lucien noticed this, so he was swift on the mark; greeting her and not giving her the chance to feel out of place.

“Ona...”  He used a familiar term because this is what he felt in his heart.  He offered her his hand, when he said...

‘Welcome to my home.”

Ona was taken aback because when she’d agreed to come, she’d thought this meeting would be conducted in an office.  She looked pass him, and she could clearly see a sitting area, and the room had a homy feel.  Her mind filled with misgivings but the thoughts didn’t last for long.  She stepped aside because Lucien had joined her in the elevator.  Now, her confusion doubled.  He smiled, then he said...

“When we spoke last night, you made it clear that you had a timetable to adhere to.”

Ona tried to recall the conversation, when she noticed the closing elevator doors.  Lucien said...

“The ferry... You said that you have to be on the last ferry.”

Being in his presence was so overwhelming.  His cologne.  His good looks.  His annunciation.  Him.

Ona collected herself and she said...

“Yes.  That is correct.  I must be on the last ferry.”

“Fine.”  He said.  And in the next second, the doors to the elevator spread wide, and they were in the lobby again.  He stepped off, and he waited for her to join him.  When she did, they walked and he said...

“I thought that perhaps the best place to talk is at the property that I think will be the best place to relocate your program.”

Lucien’s strides were long, but he paced them so as not to leave her lagging behind.  Ona didn’t know what to say, so she thought it best to remain quiet.

When they walked through the lobby, then out onto the street, they were met by another limo and another driver.  Lucien spoke to the man, but the entire exchange didn’t register with her because, Lucien had overtaken her.  They were entering the car, when a woman’s voice stopped them.

“Lucien...”

Ona turned and she noticed two women quickly approaching them.  They were on Madison Avenue, and all around her, she could sense an air of wealth.  Ona wanted to fade into the background, but she felt Lucien’s hand bracing her elbow.

He spoke to one of the women, saying

“Chantel...I didn’t realize that you were still in the city”

“Manners brother.  Aren’t you going to introduce us?”

Lucien’s sister had seen pictures of Ona Zelle, but on the photos she’d been bandaged and broken and based on those images; the woman standing in front of her was nothing short of a walking miracle.  A beautiful walking miracle at that.  Now she understood her brothers sick futile fascination and when he didn’t do the introductions, she did...

“Hello, I’m Chantel Delors-Windsor and this is Marisela Pettier.”

Lucien said...

“Ona, Chantel is my sister and Marisela is a close family friend.  Ladies...please meet Ona Zelle.”

Ona noticed a frown from the other woman.

Chantel said...

“And as for your question brother dear...there has been a change of plans.  Marisela and I wanted to get a little shopping in, then ate lunch at Barney’s.  Now we’re headed to her flat, then it’s off to the helipad.”

Chantel’s gaze set on Ona but her remark was directed to her brother...

“Clive and I are flying to The Hamptons with Marisela.  We’re spending the Memorial Day weekend with her and her parents at their house.  What are your plans for this weekend?”

“I haven’t decided.”

Marisela brushed aside a lock of blond hair, when she said...

“You’re more than welcome to come.  Actually, I had meant to call you since our last meeting.  I wanted to thank you for your advice after my parent’s dismissed their team of lawyers and investigators.  If it weren’t for you, I would have given up too.  But after our conversation, you persuaded me to follow my gut.  So...I hired a new team of private investigators.  I wanted to thank you for giving me hope.  You were right to remind me that Tollin would never kill himself because he had too much to live for.”

Lucien refrained from showing his annoyance.  He didn’t have to look at his watch to sense the clicking passage of time.  His time spent with Ona was limited and this conversation was not a part of that plan.  In spite of his schedule, he couldn’t completely dismiss Marisela because she’d taken Tollin’s death the hardest and he genuinely wanted to help if he could.

He said...

“I have a few contacts in the districts attorneys office.  Call me next week, after the holiday.  I’ll make a few calls if you think that it’ll help.”

Marisela placed her hand on his arm, wrapping her delicate fingers there when she said...

“You are such a dear Lucien.  I really wish you would reconsider and join us this weekend.  It just won’t be the same without you.”  Her eyes pleaded with him, and if he’d been alone, he might have given in.  But he wasn’t alone and he casually stepped back until her hand fell away.

Lucien guided Ona to the limo.  He urged her towards the limo opening while distracting his sister and her friend with gracious platitudes.

“Maybe next time–but please give my best to your parents.  And Chantel–tell Clive that I’m still waiting for that handball game.”

“Lucien...”

His sister called his name, but he didn’t answer.  He smiled and when he was partway in the limo he said...

“Sorry, can’t talk now.  I’ve got to go.”

He slammed the door, even though he accepted that he would be asked to explain his actions later.

The limo pulled away from the curb, navigating through the rush of early holiday traffic.  All around them, people were moving, trying to finish their business, get home or get out of the city.  This wasn’t the first time Ona had seen this, but it was the first time she’d experienced it while riding in the back of a limousine.  Her brain was collecting information, and she was trying to make sense of things.  Then her brain locked on Marisela–and the strange way she peered at her.

She wasn’t sure where she’d gathered the nerved, but Ona asked a question.

“That woman–is she someone special to you?”

“My sister?”  He said.

Ona didn’t have any right to question him but she couldn’t shake the image; the way that woman looked at her, then at him.

She said...

“No...not your sister.  The other woman.  Is she your intended?”

She asked because he’d been invited to join her and her parents, and she didn’t fully understand Non-Samaritan cultures.

Lucien practically choked when he said...

“Intended?”  He remembered the word from his research.  Intended was a person chosen for marriage.  His body revolted, because Marisela definitely wasn’t his choice.

Lucien shifted in his seat to face her.  His eyes held a serious expression when he said...

“Ona...I don’t have an intended...and I am not engaged to be married.”  He painted a finer brush over his point.

“That other woman is a friend to my sister.  Our families are good friends.”

He didn’t say anything further mainly because her brow had been raised, and he watched as it lowered, leveling out.  As he’d stared at her, he still couldn’t get over how amazedly beautiful she was.  And she didn’t have on a lick of makeup.

Ona said...

“Last night when we spoke about the new building, you said that it wasn’t far from the warehouse.  I only asked because I don’t want this change to inconvenience the children.”

“It isn’t far from your current location.  Actually, when we purchased it, the plan was to demolish the building.  Currently, we have three architectural renderings for a series of projects, ranging from housing, office space and retail space.”

“Have you decided?”

Yes, he had decided; but the project would have to wait.  Lucien smiled, then he said...

“I’ll tell you after you see the space for yourself.”

Ona shyly smiled, and she sat quiet for the remainder of the ride.  The limo turned off on a street that she recognized and it wasn’t too far from the Conclave Square.  Her heart beat fast, because until now, she had not considered what would happen if a member of her Sect noticed her getting out of a limo with a man.  She told herself, that being with Lucien was necessary for her project, and therefore her behavior didn’t violate any part of her Creed.  But she’d been raised to observe a certain set of standards; and this wasn’t one of them.

When the limo came to a stop, Lucien stepped out first.  He offered her his hand, to assist her, and when she stood on the street, her jaw fell slack.  They were standing in front of a building that had once been a grand place.

Lucien noticed her expression, then he said...

“Wait until you see the inside of this place.”

He placed a gentle hand at the base of her back, then he said...

“Let’s go inside.”

When he opened the door, they stepped inside, and they were greeted by one of his employees.

“I’ve got everything ready for you.  Lights–air conditioning–heat; whatever you need.  The place is good to go.”

“Thanks Mike.”  Lucien said, then they walked passed the man.  Ona had never gone to the Movies and she’d never been inside of a theater, so it made perfect sense that she would be awed out of her socks.  As they walked, passing ornate door frames, with delicate designs carved in the wood; at every turn, something unique and unexpected caught her eye.  Swirling patterns, on every imaginable surface, baffled her imagination.  Overhead, large draping chandeliers lit the lobby area like stars glistening in the night sky.  Ona said...

“What was this place?”

He laughed, then he said...

“An opera house–then a movie theater.  In the late sixties and early seventies, for a short time it showcased burlesque dancers–striptease.”  he clarified, then he added...

“After that, the city cleaned up its act, and the place sat empty.  Someone bought it back in the nineties and tried their hand at debuting off-Broadway shows, but due to poor management, and bad financing, they closed after the first year.  That’s when my family bought the place.”

“And what have you done with it?”

“A lot.  Party planners love this place.  It’s great for masquerade parties, theme parties...you know; that sort of thing.”

No–she didn’t know, but she nodded, pretending that she did.  Her mind latched hold to something he’d said.  “Party planners love this place”; that would mean, that they pay a great deal to use it.

Ona said...

“Mr. Delors...”

He stopped her saying...

“I thought we resolved the use of our first names months ago.”

She smiled, then she corrected herself.

“Lucien...I cannot begin to imagine the cost to rent this place.  You know that if you submit this buildings address to the Conclave–there will be questions.”

“Let’s cross that bridge when we get to it.  For now–imagine yourself and those kids in here.  Can’t you see it Ona–a real stage for them to sing, or play their instruments.  And if you wanted to, you could use the auditorium to put on a play or let the kids have recitals.”

Her eyes went wide, because she had not considered that.  So many of the children had made great strides, learning how to play the instruments.  Sahara would love being in control over that.

Ona felt Lucien guiding her forward.  He said...

“Ona...we can make this work.  Just tell me what needs to be done and I’ll do it.  I want you to have this space to use for however long you want to use it.”

“But...”

She wanted to protest but he interrupted her, when he said...

“No but’s Ona.  This place is yours.  So you might as well accept it.”

They were standing backstage, and the view from that vantage point was magnificent.  How had this happened?  How had she been so lucky?  When she turned to face him, the answer danced in her head.  Lucien Delors; thanks to him, her project had not fallen apart.

He slanted his head at an angle, and his admiration mushroomed when he noticed her black band; a symbol of her innocence.  She was single but he recalled the Samaritan man named Geff.  He wondered what was said when she returned his band.  He didn’t have to be a fly on the wall to come to certain conclusions.  Since the return of Geff’s band, Ona still wore the band that symbolized her unweddedness.

Lucien’s lips parted spreading into a lovely smile, and she fought the urge to swoon.  He’d been staring at her hand for a few seconds, but the passaged of time felt like an eternity and when her world rocked; she didn’t know if she’d recover from the shock.

Lucien mindlessly took a leapt of faith.  His hand hovered inches above hers, giving her the chance to move or avoid what was about to happen next.  He lowered his hand, until their hands lay one on top of the other.

Lucien released a tight breath, relieved that she didn’t pull away.  He said...

“Let’s go back to my place.  We can continue this conversation there.”

Ona didn’t look away, but he detected a note of wavering.  She was mulling over a thought, then he reeled in his desires.  On the whole, he was getting what he wanted, and he couldn’t expect her to ignore a lifetime of norms.  He lowered his eyes, checking the time.  They still had one hour before the last ferry left the dock.

Lucien said...

“Look...use the weekend to think about this.  You can walk me through the Conclave process another day.  I don’t want to be pushy.”

“You aren’t being pushy.”

Her voice squeaked because he’d begun a slow stroke of her fingers and she wasn’t sure if even he realized what he was doing.  They stood silent, and being there was a history making moment.  Not just because and agreement had been made; their presence meant so much more.  Beneath wires and curtain cables, this is the place were an unspoken understanding had been bridged.  As they left the building, they each knew that being there had been the beginning of something.  The start of something beyond either of them.

Lucien tried not to overstep his mark, but her serene presence eclipsed his sense of right and wrong.  The back seat in his limo was spacious and no part of their bodies needed to touch; and that wouldn’t do.  Lucien moved close enough for their thighs to touch.  Ona had been contemplating her thoughts while staring out the window, and she didn’t hear his movements.  Like the knocker that rings the bell; two things happened all at once.  His touch and the sound of his voice.  Ona jumped, but his hand lay on her leg, to steady her.

There was no delay nor a pause when he said...

“Ona...I don’t mean to be forward and I’m not sure what the protocol is in this situation but, just hear me out and if I offend you while trying to be open and honest–Well, I’m asking for your forgiveness in advance.”

Ona’s voice was a whisper when she said...

“Okay.”

Lucien cleared his throat.

“I don’t know exactly where to begin because, for a long while now, I’ve taken an interest in you.  Not as a friend or a partner involved in a charity.  I think about you, all the time.  I think of ways to see you and I worry that maybe you won’t want to see me because I am not a member of your Sect.”

His hand still lay on her leg, and she placed her hand near the tip of his fingers.  Her body went rigid when she sternly said...

“I’m always happy to see you.  I look forward to your visits.”

He smiled when he said...

“Good.  I’m glad to hear that.  I say that because–Ona, I would like to see more of you.   And believe me...I know this won’t be easy but I feel that there is something between us worth the exploration.”