Part 1
On a day early in 1975, if a person had been driving along Highway 494 just south of the Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport, he might have seen a long line of cars stream into Fort Snelling National Cemetery, headed up by two sleek black hearses and a silver limousine. A new visitor to Fort Snelling - or any national cemetery, for that matter - would have been taken aback by its vastness, by the rows upon rows of stark white headstones, each exactly the same, in perfect formation. The soldiers buried there would likely have had no less - order, uniformity, perfection. The only thing that varied in that piece of earth were the trees that were sprinkled among the graves.
Patter, patter, patter.
Clinging tightly to her little sister's hand, Elizabeth Margaret Bennet walked through the wet grass, raindrops falling on her big freckled cheeks despite the hat she wore. The hat was black, a color she did not like because it was boring, but her Aunt Catherine had made her wear it - in fact, had threatened her with the back of her hand if she did not leave it on her head. She had no desire to obey her aunt, but neither did she want a handprint on her face, or her sister to see her cry.
She was angry at her aunt. For three weeks she had been living with her, and for three weeks her only instructions were to keep her sister quiet. The only attention she received came when Georgiana cried loud enough for Catherine or her husband William to hear, and the only touch she had came at that point when Catherine's hand contacted either her bottom or the back of her head. As Georgiana was just above one, she cried out quite often, since her sister, who was only six, had no idea how to tell if she were hungry, tired, or needed a clean diaper.
Patter, patter, patter.
Her cousin, named for his father, was fortunately sympathetic in this. He was not much older than she was, but he was old enough to know that his mother should never have laid a hand on his cousin.
He had watched her quite closely, on that gray day. He knew she was aggravated. He would have to talk to his father about getting a maid to take care of his cousins, he decided. It would only make everyone happier. He knew she was not happy about the current situation she found herself in - mostly because she had informed him once that she had never wanted to be a mother. He had whispered to Beth that morning that she really had to behave that day, or she would be in trouble when they got home.
Beth tried to be good, but she did not want to wear that hat.
She wanted to see Pastor Paul. Church was not the same without him, and she didn't understand why she had to go to a different church, even for this. The Cathedral was cold and scary and different, and she didn't like it.
But then, since three weeks ago, her life had been cold and scary and different - like this cemetery.
Trying desperately to hold tight to Georgiana's hand, she watched as six rather large men carried one bright silver casket, and then another, onto stands under the tent where she stood. The first casket contained her father; the second, her mother.
Just as she was sure Georgiana would slip from her grip and Beth would get a sound smacking once they were all gathered again in the darkness of the limousine, a merciful hand reached down and swooped Georgiana up. Beth looked up and saw her Uncle Ed. Auntie Maddie stood beside him, and though her face was red and swollen from tears, she smiled at Beth, and suddenly, the world didn't seem quite so mean.
Ed and Madeline Gardiner were not really her aunt and uncle, but they were great friends of Carter and Sarah Bennet. Madeline remembered the day she had introduced Sarah to Carter - it was the day that Ed had returned home to Minnesota from Ft. Riley, Kansas. He had made the commitment to serve for three years before he met her, and he had promised before he left for basic training that when he had fulfilled that commitment, he would propose to her. She was fully expecting Ed on his knee with a ring in his hand the first time she saw him after his return, and had already asked her dear friend Sarah to be her maid of honor. While Ed made the long-awaited proposal, within seconds of stepping off the bus and in front of all his family, Sarah had been there.
And so had Carter Bennet. Carter had been on the same bus home as Ed, not because he was through with his tour of duty, but because his father had died and he was now in charge of his family's business. Ed had known Carter since basic training, and friendship and trust was easily reached. They had both entered the service voluntarily; coming from families in business, they knew they would each be handed a living, simply because of who their parents were. It was their way of giving back; of living, at least for a while, without regard to what their names were.
Once Carter was introduced to Sarah, it had taken almost no time for them to fall in love and marry. They married only a few months after they met, and little Elizabeth had been born right before Ed and Madeline's wedding. It was fortunate, pondered Madeline as she stood looking at their coffins, that they had not wasted any time. They had had no time to waste.
Ed stood next to his wife, gently rocking the orphaned daughter of one of his best friends. She fell asleep easily in his arms, gratefully receiving comfort that she had not since her parents boarded a plane that crashed in a corn field in Iowa shortly after it took off. He picked up Beth, who was a small but agile girl, and hugged her. He watched her face twist in disgust as she caught her aunt glaring at her.
"I'm gonna be the boss of her some day," she told him, her little face grim. "My daddy's gonna be mad at her when he finds out she's bein' mean."
Ed could say nothing. He buried his face in her black woolen coat and stifled a sob. He knew that everything that the Bennets stood for - both their family and their business - would crumble under the bitter and neglectful eye of Catherine Collins nee Bennet.
He had not been wrong - twelve years later, Ed and Madeline had done what they could for the Bennet girls but had not been able to do much about Carter's business, and it was failing. Madeline Gardiner's family was old and wealthy, and she was able to put her father's corporate attorneys to use when Beth came to them for help.
There was one other person they knew could help Bennet Realty. Their nephew, Charles Bingley, was an extremely gifted young man who, at the age of twenty-two, was in possession of an MBA and was looking for anybody that would give such a young man a chance to prove his worth. Ed knew him to be kind and talented, but an arrogant son of a bitch when he wanted to be; his parents had never really given him a reason to want otherwise. They knew that Charles could help.
Carter Bennet's will had been quite specific on the topic of ultimately leaving Bennet Realty to his eldest daughter Elizabeth, and if she had not wanted it, it would have fallen to Georgiana. However, Elizabeth wanted it - had known she wanted it the day her aunt stuffed her into a black dress, took her to a strange church, and shed not one single tear as her own brother's body was laid to rest. The language in the will allowed Elizabeth, at eighteen, to choose whomever she wanted to represent the will of the Bennet family, and place that person in the president's office.
On the eve of Beth's eighteenth birthday, Bennet Realty filed for bankruptcy protection. The next day, Beth, Ed, Madeline, Georgiana, and Charles celebrated her birthday after evicting William Collins from his position, and placing Charles in it.
Slowly, Charles guided Beth, coaching her into her inevitable position as CEO. She had a natural authoritative temperament and she learned when to use it. Her business sense was less natural and she was less inclined to hone it with Chuck's on board, though Beth knew he could go anywhere he wanted and was grateful to know that he would stay with her. She and Chuck had become close. He was more like a friend and business partner than her employee; then again, the fact that she had employees had been a difficult idea to get used to.
But have them she did, and she had always known that her first priority must be them and not herself. It showed, too, in everything that she had done with the company, and now, six years after her graduation from college, she sat in her sensible Taurus in a pair of simple dress slacks and a blouse as she looked out at what had been a corn field in Chaska.
The concrete block foundations were in place, and four of the five cement slabs had been poured. The fifth one would be setting by the end of the day. Bennet Realty had been reformed into The Bennet Company - real estate sales, development, and mortgage brokerage. Her father would have been proud, Beth decided as she stepped out of her car, to stand there next to her and survey the progress of P&P Builders as they erected the first set of town homes for The Bennet Company.
Charles Bingley sidled up next to her. "Hey Chuck."
She didn't turn to look at him, but greeted him all the same. "Things are looking up."
"Yep."
Her statement couldn't have been more true. Specifically, she had been referring to the progress of the buildings, but for Beth herself, Chuck thought, life couldn't get much better. As they stepped forward to meet with Ed, who managed P&P Builders for his ailing father, he looked at her, knowing she must be happier now than she had ever been.
"How are things at your house?" he asked. She and Ana had just recently moved into a brand new home, which Ed had also built.
"So far, so good," she replied, hearing gravel crunch beneath her feet. "Basement's dry as a bone, even with all that rain last week."
"Good," he replied. "Let me know when you want me to start finishing your basement. Have you had Rick draw plans yet?"
"I haven't called Rick yet," she smilingly replied. "I'm not in a rush. The main floor alone is more room than Ana and I have ever had to live in. Dorm rooms and apartments are just not very big. I do want to get moving on the deck, though."
"All right . . . I'll come over tonight and get it measured up. Did you decide on a design?"
"Not really," she replied.
"That's the first step, there, Beffy," he said, using Ana's nickname for her. "How am I going to know what to build if you don't know what you want?"
"I don't know," she said as they approached Ed. "I just haven't found anything I like."
"Well, get moving on it!" he teased.
"Hello, there," greeted Ed as they reached him. "How are my two favorite people today?"
"You flatter us," said Beth. "Good for you."
Chuck smiled at Beth, and then looked at his uncle. "Beth and I were just discussing the relative difficulty of building things without plans."
"And what are you building now?"
"I'm supposed to be building her deck," said Chuck, "but she doesn't know what she wants me to build."
"Makes it rather difficult, doesn't it?"
"It requires analysis," stated Beth matter-of-factly.
"Not everything requires analysis," Ed chided her. "Especially your form of analysis, which I would be more likely to call anal retentiveness."
"Funny," said Beth, looking over Ed's shoulder. "Very funny." She watched as trucks drove past her, and a backhoe was loaded onto a flatbed to be moved from the site. "Hey . . . who built your deck?" she asked Ed. "I like your deck. Another level, a little different rail . . . I think it might work."
Ed inclined his head in the direction of a group of four men in jeans, t-shirts, hardhats, and tool belts. "Those are my carpenters," he said with not a little pride. A grin seemed to play with his lips as he pointed a particular carpenter out to her and continued, "That one. His name's Darcy."
"Huh. Do you still have the plans?"
"No," replied Ed. "He didn't use any."
Chuck turned to him. "You're kidding." Ed shook his head. "Ed, you could drive a truck up there."
"He's good," replied Ed, beginning to walk in the direction of the carpenters. "And with my four darling children and their friends all jumping up and down on it for the duration of the summer, it damn well better hold the weight of a truck. Would you like to meet him?"
I'd sure like to meet him, thought Beth, the phrase "tall drink of water" not far from her mind. Hardhat or no hardhat, he was taller than the other three, thanks to his exceptionally long legs.
Chuck and Beth followed Ed to the spot where the carpenters stood talking. Darcy held a clipboard, obviously busy going over the project they were about to start with the other three, but as his boss approached, he dropped his arms to his sides and awaited Ed's instructions.
"Darcy, Tim, Eric, Joe," he said, gesturing to each of the carpenters, "This is Charles Bingley and Elizabeth Bennet, from The Bennet Company. Chuck and Beth, these are the carpenters on your project. Darcy here is your foreman."
"Hi," said Beth, sticking out her hand to Darcy. "I'm Beth."
"I'm pleased to meet you," replied Darcy, shaking her hand firmly.
Beth's knees went weak as she heard his very proper English accent. "Likewise," she replied quietly, instantly liking him.
"Thank you." He turned his attention toward Chuck for a minute. She stepped a few feet in front of him as he spoke with Ed and Chuck about the deck he had helped Ed build, and he caught a hint of Beth's perfume. He breathed more deeply. Vanilla, he thought.
She was blushing, he noticed as he watched her. The pink tint to her skin became her rather well, but it wasn't a blush brought on by warmth. It wasn't that warm out yet. This blush crept up from her collar to settle deep in her cheeks. He felt guilty for watching her, colleague and friend of Ed's as she was, but he couldn't really help it. He turned to look out briefly over the building site.
"How do things look?" she asked, coming up behind him.
"They look very well," he answered. "The masons are just finishing up with the foundations, and we carpenters will be able to start framing. Four units per building, five buildings . . . it should take us about a month or six weeks to finish all of it. I imagine by the beginning of August we'll come back again to do the finishing work. Should be right on time, but you never know what'll happen, especially with the weather."
She smiled. "Too true." Anyone watching this conversation take place would have known there was an instant attraction between the two. She took an instant liking to his soft, honest demeanor, green eyes, and dark curls, and he could not help but notice her arched brow, full lips, and perfect figure. "May I ask where you're from?" she asked, a little timid.
Darcy smiled as he answered. "Near a little town called Lambton. Derbyshire, England."
She felt a little silly for saying, "I've never heard of it."
"It's just a small town," he replied, wanting to tuck the curly chestnut locks that danced across her cheek into place behind her ear. "It's north of London . . . very picturesque and touristy, but without any particular significance to it, except to its residents."
She smirked. "Sounds like you're fond of home. Why did you move?"
The honest answer to that question was that Darcy didn't know. In college, his sister Jane had interned during the summers at 3M Corporation in St. Paul - a scant eight hour plane ride from London. Upon her graduation some four years ago, she was offered a full-time position, and Jane accepted. They had always been close, and she discussed her move with him. Impulsively, he had requested, and then insisted, that he go with her. Initially he thought it was the urge to separate himself from his father, but he knew that wasn't true. He had already moved to London and achieved that goal, since Joseph Darcy rarely went anywhere besides his office in Lambton.
Feeling Beth's query still hanging in the air, he answered lightly. "Because Lambton is the home of none other than Frances Darcy, a woman whose matchmaking schemes know no bounds . . . especially where her son is concerned."
Beth smiled widely. He admired it a moment, and she, wrapped up in his intense gaze, failed to note that her cellular phone was ringing until she suffered the misfortune of his having to mention that her pants were singing "La Cucaracha."
Beth's cheeks turned bright and she reached into her pocket. The phone had stopped ringing; Beth covered her face with her free hand as she looked at the face of the phone. "Oh, it's just my assistant. I better call him back." She replaced the phone in her pocket and turned back to Darcy. "It was really nice to meet you." She stuck her hand out.
"It was nice to meet you, Beth," he replied, and shook her hand. "Please feel free to stop by anytime you would like to monitor our progress."
"Thank you, Darcy." She swallowed, and with a serious expression on her face, managed to tear her eyes away from him and head towards Chuck to tell him she'd meet him at the office.
Part 2
As you may recall, Chuck and Beth have just been to the site of the company's latest development, a set of townhomes being built by Chuck's uncle Ed Gardiner. There, they met the foreman carpenter on the project, Fitzwilliam Darcy, who was quite attentive to Beth, and who Beth is quite taken with.
Back at the office, Beth peeked around the corner of her little sister's office. "Ana, have you seen George anywhere?"
"Nope," replied Ana absentmindedly. She stared at her computer screen, and seemed to be deep in thought. "He's probably making copies of his backside."
"I'll let him know you want one," smirked Beth, plopping in a visitor's chair.
Ana tore her eyes from the screen to glare at her sister. "Thanks."
Beth winked. "It's all right." She swung her feet up to rest on the desktop, and reached out for her nameplate. Georgiana E. Bennet, it read in bold letters. Beth ran her fingers across the carved piece of maple. "Anyway, he called me and I missed him, but then I called him from the car and he didn't answer."
"I haven't seen him at all."
Beth looked at Ana expectantly. "Aren't you going to ask me where I was this morning?" she demanded.
"I will if you make me," she replied disinterestedly.
"I'm making you."
Flatly, Ana said, "Golly, Beth, where've ya been?"
"I was at the construction site this morning," she chirped.
"Hm . . . let's see. It's still May, so no one's got a tan yet. My guess is that you spent about a half an hour looking at a bunch of hairy, sweaty guys and their pasty butt cracks." She paused to look at her sister fingering her name plate. "What are you doing?"
"I might ask you the same thing," replied Beth, stopping her fidgeting. "What are you working on?"
"The logo," said Ana proudly. "I'm pretty sure I'm done with it. Wanna see?"
Beth replied that she did, and Ana turned her monitor around.
"Wow," she said with a grin, forgetting about tall, dark, and handsome English men for a moment. "Ana, I love this!"
"If everything goes right, you should be able to put it up on the new building."
Beth gazed at her sister's creation. "The Bennet Company. Way better than that silly 'B' logo the first Bennet came up with."
Ana glowed. She loved it when her sister praised her.
"Hey, you have a class in twenty minutes," interrupted Beth. "You better get going."
"I know," replied Ana, getting up from her chair. "It's done, if you want to give it to Char."
"That would be great. Do you need a ride?" Beth moved to her sister's seat to print out a few copies of the logo.
"No," said Ana, "I'll be fine. See ya later," said Ana as she left.
"See you at home," called Beth. She looked again at the logo her sister had made and wondered at her creative nature. She was staring at the screen when the manager of the design department knocked on the door.
"I thought I'd find you in here."
Beth looked up. "Oh. Hi, Charlotte." She smiled.
"What are you staring so intently at?" asked Charlotte Lucas, sitting down in the chair Beth had most recently occupied.
"It's the logo that Ana designed," replied Beth. "She did a great job." Beth plucked one of the papers from the printer and handed it to Charlotte.
"Wow . . . I love it," smiled Charlotte. "She's talented, Beth. I don't know how long you'll be able to hold onto her once she graduates."
Beth hoisted an eyebrow and pulled the remainder of the papers off the printer, choosing to ignore Charlotte's comment on her sister's imminent independence. "Have you finished the building design yet?" she asked.
"That's what I wanted to see you about," smiled Charlotte. "I just wanted to let you know, I've got the artist's drawing and plans for the new building ready to go for the board meeting tomorrow morning. D. J. Kranz, P&P Builders, and McGough are all quoting on construction."
"Excellent," said Beth, pleased. "Can I see it early?
"Sure," she replied. "It's in my office."
"I'll follow you there," said Beth. She rose and the two women headed down the hall.
Charlotte's office was only a few doors down from Ana's. It was a little larger, but not by much, and as they entered it, Charlotte remarked, "I cannot wait to get a bigger office."
"I don't think anyone will be sad when we finally move," said Beth with a smile. On the floor, leaning against the wall, was a large picture frame covered with a tattered baby blanket. She lifted the corner. "What's with this?" she asked, amused.
"Oh," she grinned, collecting her coffee cup and sipping from it. "It's the only thing I could find to cover it. It's Mariah's."
Her boss hoisted an eyebrow. "Mariah is sixteen years old," she said, in reference to Charlotte's little sister.
"She's had it since she was one and still sleeps with it every night. My mom stole it from her room about a week ago and brought it here for me to hold onto." Charlotte sipped her coffee again. "She flipped out the first night when she couldn't find it. Mom'll give it back sooner or later, but Mariah's got to let go of it some time."
Beth smiled and paused a little, and then gestured to the frame on the floor. "May I?"
Charlotte gestured proudly with her hand. "Be my guest."
Beth crouched and gingerly lifted the blanket from the frame, anxious to see what Charlotte and her architects had designed. She smiled as she saw the two-story building, in gleaming white, bright with windows glazed lightly in blue. Along one side of the building, the windows rose past the roof in a series of spiky triangles. The landscaping was crisp and colorful. Beth rose. "I love it. I can't wait to see the plans." She turned and smiled at Charlotte.
"Thanks," she replied proudly. "Say . . . are you free for lunch?"
Beth thought a moment. "No, I'm not. I'm meeting with Chuckles about the board meeting tomorrow. Did you need to talk about something?"
"Well . . ." Charlotte looked at the door, and after a quick pause, she took a step and closed it. "I have some news."
"Is everything all right?" asked Beth, concerned as Charlotte looked quite anxious. "What is it?"
"As you know," she replied, her voice steady and deliberate, "I've been seeing your cousin."
Beth raised her eyebrow at Charlotte. "Yeah. Is . . . everything all right?"
Charlotte sighed. "He asked me to marry him last night."
Beth's expression remained unchanged. "Oh."
This was not the reply Charlotte was hoping for, but it was the one she expected. "I know we haven't been seeing each other for long . . . only a couple of months. And I know how you feel about your aunt and uncle. But . . ." She sighed and sat down in her chair. "You know how much I want to have kids, and Will and I are good for each other. I may never get this chance again."
Beth looked for a long moment at Charlotte, and then leaned against the wall and let out a breath. "I know," she admitted. "When Ana and I were kids he tried to be there for us. He has a very kind heart." She paused a moment, and then looked up. "But what about you, Charlotte? Do you love him?"
Charlotte paused before she answered. "I know he loves me. I . . . respect him. We're very compatible."
Beth was quiet again. "Are you sure you know what you're doing?" she asked, her voice a whisper.
"Yes," nodded Charlotte, and she smiled. "I know Will and I will be happy."
"Well, then," smiled Beth, genuinely, "congratulations."
The two women stood and shared a hug. "Thanks, Beth."
Charlotte smiled when they pulled away, and a little color came into her cheeks. "We haven't told anyone else," she said, "so if you could keep it under wraps for a few days . . ."
"Sure," Beth nodded. "I suppose your mom and dad will be really excited."
"Oh, I have no doubt," replied Charlotte, laughing a little. She rose then, and opened the door of her office. Chuck Bingley was standing there, his fist poised to knock.
He lowered it. "Hey, Char. Beth in here?"
Charlotte stepped aside to allow Beth to step out. "Yeah - Beth, it's Chuck."
Beth straightened and addressed her president. "What's up?"
"Tom wants to go over a few things before the board meeting and he's leaving at eleven this morning. Can you come to his office?"
"Oh - sure," said Beth. "I'll be right there. Charlotte, maybe we shoot for lunch on Thursday?"
Charlotte nodded. "Sure."
Beth smiled at her friend and colleague and then followed Chuck to the CFO's office.
"My God, that man is as high-strung as they come." Beth rubbed her eyebrows as she exited Tom's office a half an hour later, letting out a breath. "I think I need a nap."
Chuck smiled and led her down the hall. "He's just excited that all of the accounts are balanced. All his ducks are in a row. Accountants love that kind of stuff."
"Well, I'm pleased that he's excited to do his job," said Beth, "because I couldn't do it." She paused outside the employee lounge. "Meet me in my office after I grab a cup."
Coffee was what she was referring to - her one vice, which occasionally gave her terrible headaches. Chuck nodded with a grin and headed to where he had been directed, detouring briefly in his own office to retrieve a few documents he needed to review with her.
"Charles," she began when she entered the room, settling into her chair and regarding him with an agitated look, "I'm a respected member of the business community, am I not?"
Chuck placed his left ankle upon his right knee and sat back in the chair. "Yes. Why do you ask?"
"And have I not done everything in my power to grow this business? In the last ten years, this company has gone from bankrupt to turning a profit with every transaction. We have the most respected agents in the metro; we don't over-sell homes; we have credit counselors for people who need them - am I not, at least in part, responsible for that? And was I not recently featured in a particularly glowing cover article in Twin Cities Business Monthly?"
Her president followed her pointed finger to the wall upon which hung the cover of the afore-mentioned magazine, neatly displayed in a frame he had made for her, and back to her face. "Yes. You should be very proud of yourself, Beth."
"Then would you be so kind as to tell me," she requested with a raised eyebrow, slapping the palm of one hand with the back of the other with each stressed syllable, "why I am still the only person in this office who ever puts the paper towels on the paper towel holder?"
He smirked, hoisting an eyebrow at her. "I'll get someone on that," he offered.
"Good," she said, settling back in her chair and composing herself. "Now . . . what else do we need to review before tomorrow?"
"Well, the least pleasant but most pressing thing, I think, will be George."
Beth heaved a sigh. "Why?" she whined.
"Because they want him out."
"Well, I want him out, too, but I don't always get what I want, now do I?" Creasing her brow, she sat back and crossed her legs.
"Don't pout, Beffy," he said, rising and dropping the thick folder he had collected from his office in front of her. "You're too old for it to be cute."
She shot a sour look at him as he sat back down. "What's this?"
"Wickham's file. The latest addition to it is basically a letter from the fifth attorney we asked to look it over, saying there's nothing we can do except buy him."
"Why won't he just let us buy him?" Beth sighed again as she read over the letter from the law firm of Lindquist and Vennum. George Wickham was the last remaining artifact from the time when the company had been in the hands of the Collinses. While the elder William Collins had been the one actually in the CEO's seat, Catherine had been behind him, directing his every move. Just before Chuck had been placed in the company, she had hired George Wickham to watch over her husband, who she had come to distrust. They signed a twenty-year contract which employed him as the executive assistant and paid him an exorbitant amount of money.
Now it was more than time for Wickham to be gone, but three attempts to buy him out of his contract had not been successful, and the Board of Directors of The Bennet Company wanted an action plan.
"What are we going to tell them?"
Chuck looked up at Beth, who had asked the question, and let out a breath. "I honestly don't know. We could terminate his employment, but he'd sue us, even if we continued to pay him. I don't think anyone wants to spend more money on lawyers."
"Which is curious, since besides you and me, the board is made up of lawyers."
Chuck agreed with her, smirking. "Crabby ones at that."
Beth smiled, closing the file. "What else are they going to want, Mr. Vice Chair?"
"Market conditions, solid financials, and an update on the building project, as you well know, Ms. Chairman," he replied. "That's probably about it."
"Well, at least we have that. I guess we'll have to do some creative thinking between now and tomorrow at two." She picked up her coffee cup and sipped. "What's on tap for you this week?"
"Just the quarter close," said Chuck, shaking his head a little. "That'll keep us both busy with accounting all week."
Beth smiled and lifted an eyebrow. "Fun week for me, then," she joked. "Are you going to Ella's party tonight?"
"Yeah, for a few minutes," he replied. "I kinda like that kid."
"I can't believe she's already five," said Beth. "I still remember when Ed and Maddie found out they were having her. They were shocked."
"For good reason," he replied. "After everything they went though to have children, and to adopt the older kids - and how old they are-"
"They're not old," admonished Beth with a smile.
"They're old for having babies," he countered. "They were fifty."
"All right - it's not an ideal age, I'll give you that. But Maddie is so energetic she could probably run a thirty-crib twenty-four-hours-a-day child care center out of their house. I think everyone concerned is pretty happy."
"Yeah," was Chuck's non-committal reply as he turned to look out her small office window. "You think you'll ever have kids, Beth?"
"I'd need a spouse first," she replied, sipping her coffee.
"Well . . . you wouldn't need one," he said, turning up a palm. "Not technically."
"Yes, I would, technically," she said, laughing a little. "I would both need and want one. And so would you, regardless of what might be going through your head."
He harrumphed before he replied, "You know as well as I do that the only woman on Earth who can stand me enough to be in my presence for longer than a day is you."
"Is that a proposal, Mr. Vice Chair?" she laughed.
He eyed her sideways, grinning. "Absolutely not, Ms. Chairman. Now, I have work to do." Chuck rose and exited her office.