My Love Betrayed by April Lynn Kihlstrom Read Free Book Online Page A

his shoulders and his face
was set with dignity. “Why must I explain? These
things he should see for himself. In a year he would
be gone and the slowness can hurt only him.”
    I stared, thinking, No, neither one would have
given an inch. And who could guess how much
damage such stubbornness had caused, would
cause? “Well,” I said, looking at the men, “I’m glad
to know I’ll be working with such qualified people.
It’s obvious you should be running things, Carlos.
And when we get back to the office, maybe you can
show me where the project is at.”
    Carlos hesitated, trying to decide if I was
serious. Finally he said, “Sure!”
    He kept his word and even showed me a method
of debugging he had been working on privately. In
return, I told him about a few of Rick’s program
idiosyncrasies that allowed Carlos’s method to be
simplified somewhat. The project was obviously
behind schedule but, Carlos said, “At least it now
feels as if this will be our computer.”
    He repeated his comment in Spanish, and the
other men shouted their approval. We crowded
together, discussing ideas. I practiced my virtually
nonexistent Spanish, and they practiced their
limited English. Carlos refereed. I was almost
disappointed when Charles appeared at the door.
    “Hi!” I called. “You’ll be pleased to know the work is going very well, Mr. Whitford.”
     
    “Oh?”
    “Si, senor.” Carlos’s tone was faintly servile.
“Muchas progress.”
    “Cut it out, Carlos!” I said in mock annoyance.
Then I turned to Charles. “Did you know, Mr.
Whitford, that Carlos has a degree in computer
science from Berkeley?”
    “Really?” Charles frowned.
    “Please,” Carlos hissed at me, “this is not your
affair.”
    So I shut up. But Charles stared at Carlos for a
moment longer. Then he said to me, “Would you
like a ride back to your hotel? Mr. Iveson has
offered to drive us. He’s originally from Chicago,
also.”
    “Sure,” I said. As we left, I said good night to the
men.
    When we walked down the corridor, I noted
Charles’s lips were pressed tightly together.
“Something wrong?” I asked.
    “No.
    “I see. You always look this way? Like you’re
ready to bite someone’s head off?”
    In spite of himself, Charles laughed. “Touche.
How was your day?”
    “Okay. Except for Rick, of course.”
    As I said that, I realized I’d thought about him
very little, except in terms of his work. Charles
didn’t seem to notice. He was speaking hesitantly.
“I wouldn’t mention much about your relationship
with Rick to Mr. Iveson, Ellen.” As I nodded, we
came up even with the man, and Charles introduced us. “Ellen, this is Mr. Iveson. Greg, this
is Miss Steffee from Chicago. She’ll be taking Mr.
Kemmler’s place temporarily.”

    “Hello, Miss Steffee. Happy to meet you.” We
shook hands and he asked, “How did you happen
to meet her, Charles?”
    “She’s here on vacation and staying at the Hotel
Bamer, too. When I saw another American, I
introduced myself.”
    “Well, I’m glad you found her,” Mr. Iveson said.
“That division needs help.”
    “Actually,” Charles said easily, “Miss Steffee
seems encouraged by what she found today.”
    “Really?” Mr. Iveson seemed skeptical.
    “Yes, in fact, you have one guy “I began.
    But I didn’t get to tell Mr. Iveson about Carlos
then, because he was too busy avoiding an
accident. “Stupid drivers!” he snapped.
    “Actually,” Charles laughed, “they’re better
than Italian drivers. Did I ever tell you about the
time I was in Rome and…”
    Back at the hotel, I got out of the car first,
thanking Mr. Iveson for the ride. He promised to
pick us both up in the morning if Charles would
just give him a call.
    In the lobby, someone said quietly, “Senorita
Steffee?”
    I turned to see the policeman who had questioned me the night before standing beside me.
“Por, favor, “he continued, “may we