“I’m not afraid of that. I only ask that you drop the Mr. Kirchoff stuff and call me Seth.”
“Then I’m Kathleen.”
“Kathleen,” he said softly, as if savoring the sound of her name on his lips.
She stood up self-consciously, aware of the fact that he must remain seated. But as she walked toward the door, she heard the soft whirring sound of the wheelchair’s motor as he followed her.
“I’d break my back again if I could have the privilege of opening the door for you, Kathleen, but would you mind too much doing the honors?”
She laughed with him. “Not at all.” She held the door while he wheeled through it and then followed him. A man in a dark gray suit was standing beside the secretary’s desk.
“Ah, George,” Seth said. “Is it time to go already?”
“Yes, Seth. You have a lunch appointment with your sister.”
“George, I want you to meet Kirchoff’s newest employee, Ms. Kathleen Haley.”
“So you hired her!” exclaimed Claire Larchmont from behind her desk. “Oh, I’m so glad.”
“Why?” Seth teased. “I may have hired her to replace you.”
“Never,” she said, unperturbed. Then she smiled graciously at Kathleen. “Welcome aboard, Ms. Haley.”
“Kathleen,” Kathleen said. Claire smiled at her and nodded, then turned back to her computer terminal.
“Kathleen, George goes with the territory. He’s my valet, chauffeur, therapist, drinking buddy and best friend. George Martin.”
“Mr. Martin,” Kathleen said, smiling.
“Please call me George, or I might not hear you,” he said. He was a tall, thin, middle-aged man who radiated a strong moral character and dependability. His smile was welcoming.
“Now everyone is on a first-name basis except you, Mrs. Larchmont,” Seth said. Claire turned around to face him, as usual, unscathed by his taunt. “Please see to all the bureaucratic red tape of putting another employee on the payroll—insurance, things like that. Also, issue Kathleen a check for five thousand dollars to cover her moving expenses.”
Kathleen started to object, but Seth stopped her. “I won’t have it any other way. If we were a large corporation transferring an executive, you would receive that kind of consideration. And I look upon you as an executive.”
“Thank you,” she said, flabbergasted at all that was happening. After she put the check in her purse, she shook hands again with Seth. “I’ll see you on the sixteenth,” she said.
“We all look forward to it.” He smiled that sincere-sad smile as he clasped her hand tightly.
She nodded her goodbyes to Claire and George. While waiting for an elevator, she looked at her wristwatch. She congratulated herself. A full half-hour had transpired since she had thought of Erik.
* * *
Her move to San Francisco was accomplished with relative ease, considering that she moved from one side of the country to the other.
After her interview with Seth, Kathleen went directly to a downtown lunchroom and purchased a newspaper. Over a tuna-salad sandwich, she began perusing the classified ads for a suitable apartment.
Some listings she was able to eliminate after a telephone conversation. Others required expensive cab rides, only to prove that they weren’t what she was looking for. Finally, at sunset, she checked into a hotel and spent a dreamless night, exhausted and exhilarated after the day’s events.
The next morning, she found a place that was more what she had in mind. It was one of four apartments carved out of an old house. The furnishings were outmoded, but clean and quaint, as was the exterior of the house. Only the occupants had keys to the main door, and Kathleen’s apartment was on the ground floor. It was small, having only a combination bedroom-living room, a tiny kitchen alcove and a small bathroom, but that was all she would require for a while. She put down the requested deposit and first month’s rent with the landlord and then made flight arrangements back to Atlanta.
In the southern city, she sold her car to a used-car dealer, sacrificing it, she knew, but saving the time and trouble of selling it herself. She didn’t want to drive it to San Francisco. Since her former apartment had been furnished, she had little in the way of household items to discard. Most of these she donated to charitable organizations. What few personal items she had she packed in boxes to be shipped by air on her return flight. Within a matter of days, she was ensconced in her new apartment in the Bay City.
She reveled in this jewel of a city, gloried in the climate that, with the fall season, was brisk and invigorating. She jogged in Golden Gate Park, went sightseeing on Fisherman’s Wharf.
She bought a used compact car, making a small down payment with some of the money Seth had given her for “moving expenses,” and signing a note of credit for the balance. With a map in one hand, she set out, by trial and error, to learn her way around the hilly streets of her new home. She enjoyed the time off, the freedom to be lazy, but by the Sunday evening before she would start her new job, she was ready to get down to work.
“Tomorrow I start over,” Kathleen averred to the darkness as she lay on the convertible sofa bed that came with the apartment. “In a few months, I won’t even remember him.”