CHAPTER FOUR

3-24-08/Monday.

On the 95th floor of the Hancock building there is a renown restaurant that offers a superb midday buffet, but Tyler and Joan barely notice the quality of the food as their senses are solely focused on each other…

"I was beginning to give up hope. Why didn't you call?" Tyler asks.

"Why didn't you?" Joan counters.

"I had already put myself out on a fragile emotional limb by sending you flowers and a poem each day. I was beginning to wonder if you weren't laughing at the old man who was romancing someone so young."

"You're not that old!" Joan protests. "Besides, my life got a little complicated after we met."

"Dylan Hunter?"

"How…how do you know about him?"

"I watched the show. Anyone could see the poor boy is desperately in love with you."

"Dylan…is a fond memory from my past. A friend I treasure, but no more."

"Are you sure? I'd hate to think that you've turned to me as a refuge from some romantic maelstrom. As overwhelmingly attracted to you as I am, I do have my pride, Joan."

"Tyler, I'm here because I want to be with you. I want to know you better, and to explore this…connection I feel for you."

Tyler smiles. "I feel it too – that amazing sense of the two of us clicking together like we were made for each other. I've never experienced anything so intense and so quickly. It was there when we first met in Atlantic City, and our time apart hasn't weakened it."

"We have less than a week before I have to return to Arcadia. In that time, I want to know everything about you. That is, if your schedule isn't too busy?"

"I can cancel or postpone everything except for today's schedule. I have a teleconference meeting with my factory managers in four countries in less than an hour that will take up most of the afternoon."

"I guess I should have called ahead. What about tonight?"

"I…have a date."

"Oh. Of course, how stupid of me. I should have realized a man like you has dozens of women lined up…"

"Hardly dozens, and I would be willing to cancel tonight's date, but there isn't time for Cissy to find someone else."

"You have a girlfriend named 'Cissy'?"

"She's not my girlfriend. Cissy is an old friend from college that I've never dated before. Cissy's sister…Ceilia, recently married a man named Cecil…"

"Hold it. Is this a joke?"

Tyler grins. "Okay, I'm changing the names to make it sound silly, which it is. Cissy's kid sister married some doctor and they're off on an extended honeymoon. They are making a one night stopover in Chicago so Cissy can meet her new brother-in-law and get it rubbed in her nose that her younger sister has married well while Cissy remains unmarried."

"Okay, I get it. Cissy counters by showing up with one of the country's most eligible bachelors – a billionaire who makes the doctor look like small potatoes."

"So you can see why I can't get out of this?"

Joan smiles. "Yes, it's a noble quest to save a damsel in distress. Go, make the snotty bride green with envy, make a big public display of having the hots for Cissy, BUT…"

"Not an inch further, I promise."

"Good. And I see the time is getting late, so I guess I better get you back to your office."

(Tyler checks his watch.) "We might have time to swing by my place so I can show you where I live."

"I'd love to see it, but are you sure about the time?"

"Well, it is a pretty far commute, but I think we can make it."

Joan and Tyler take the elevator down to the 44th floor and find themselves in a large lobby with a concierge service, and other facilities such as a gym with a large pool, a grocery and a bank of private elevators that service the over 700 condos above them. They travel to the 50th floor and enter a luxurious three bedroom condominium that has a spectacular view of the lake…

"Wow, you live in the same building where you work?" Joan asks as Tyler gives her a quick tour.

"It beats trying to deal with rush hour traffic. From here, on the Fourth of July, you can watch the fireworks display at eye level."

"This is amazing, but…I have to admit I'm a little surprised. Considering how rich you are, I was expecting a huge mansion and a yacht."

Tyler smiles. "I'm just a simple boy who made good and doesn't feel the need to show off…except I do have a yacht I use on the lake in warmer weather, and...I have a private island in the Caribbean."

"Oh, just a 'simple boy'? Is it a very private island, say where a couple could sunbathe in the nude?"

Tyler smiles. "Definitely. But in the mean time, we will have to settle for my humble abode here."

"Considering all that's available in the Hancock, including three floors of retail stores – which I just happen to notice, you hardly ever have to leave the building."

"During the worse of our Chicago winters, if I'm not vacationing on my island, I do tend to hibernate in the Hancock."

Joan ponders a moment. "You know, maybe that's a long term solution to the country's energy problems. Imagine if most people could live, shop and work in the same building. Think of how many fewer cars we would need and the lower pollution."

"It might be a little hard to coordinate, having your home and workplace linked together. If your company became very successful, it might have to move to larger facilities and you're stuck trying to sell a condo where there's now a lot of empty space. Or you might be in a company that down-sizes and you need to look for a job in another building where there might not be any open spaces."

"Okay, I see your point. Then there are couples who would work for different firms in different buildings, and so on. Darn, here I was envisioning a utopian future where people lived in skyscrapers surrounded by green space and which were powered by solar and wind. We could kiss foreign oil goodbye."

"Sounds nice, but it would never work. Utopian societies always fail because the founders never consider the flaw in every plan – the human factor. Most people tend to be lazy, greedy and mean. They rebel against a regimented lifestyle that requires them to be industrious, self-sacrificing and considerate. That causes the 'true believers' in that utopian society - who are equally lazy, greedy and mean, to begin harshly regulating behavior, which always leads to rebellion. Remember 'Animal Farm'?"

"Wow, you're a cynic."

"I like to think of it as the practicality that comes with maturity. You on the other hand have the naïve optimism of youth."

Joan smiles. "Establishmentist."

Tyler smiles back. "Revolutionary."

They fall into a long kiss, hands roaming and breathing coming in gasps. Joan loosens Tyler's tie…

"Joan, we don't have time."

"We can be quick." Joan gasps as her hands drift down to Tyler's belt. He gently brushes her hands away.

"Another advantage of age. I know that 'quickies' don't compare to taking your time and getting the job done right. Tomorrow, I promise, the whole day is yours to go wherever you want or do whatever you want."

Joan sighs. "I promised my aunt we would go put flowers on various relative's graves – a long, 'fun' day in the cemetery."

"I would love to meet your aunt, if I wouldn't be intruding? We could travel in my limo."

"Is it long and impressive?"

"I like to think so…oh wait, you're talking about the car."

Joan giggles. "Speaking of that, and your opposition to quickies, that night we spent in your hotel suite in Atlantic City…why didn't we sleep together?"

"Because I'm old-fashioned. If you really like a girl, you don't try to drag her into your bed on the first date."

"That's sweet, I guess, but trust me, you wouldn't have had to do any 'dragging'. Is that the only reason?"

"Well…when you took my place in the poker game and won all of that money, I promised you a five percent commission…"

"I remember. It's not every night I win 300,000 dollars."

"I didn't want you to think that I was expecting some sort of…reciprocation."

Joan snorts with laughter. "Never occurred to me. I won that money fair and square and fully earned my commission. But flattering on how high a price you would put on my 'services'."

Tyler blushes deeply and Joan realizes he was serious about being 'old-fashioned'.

Joan continues, "Come on, let's get you back to your office before you swoon. I'll text you later on the details about tomorrow."

X X X X X

3-25-08/Tuesday

"Miss Griardi, I truly admire those who dedicate their lives to teaching, especially a subject that is such an enhancement to our society like music."

Theresa Girardi, seated between Tyler and Joan in the back of the limo, resonds... "Thank you. I've enjoyed teaching music for over thirty years, and I'm proud to say some of my more gifted students have gone on to professional music careers, Mr. Christian."

"Please call me Tyler. Was Joan one of your 'gifted' students?"

Theresa chuckles. "Hardly. I tried for over a year to tutor Joan in piano, but she barely mastered the basics. Her father and I hoped she would grow to love piano, but she remained obstinately determined not to give it a chance."

Joan protests, "Hey, don't talk about me like I'm not here, and I wasn't 'obstinate'. I just realized playing an instrument wasn't my thing, and it was really the wrong time in life for me to try. In high school I took a few private lessons and improved...a little. To this day I can rock out 'Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star' and 'Itsy Bitsy Spider'.

Before the others can respond, the chauffeur calls out, "We have reached our first destination, sir."

"Thank you, Ross. Pull over and get the first wreath."

The three passengers exit the car while 'Ross' gets a beautiful floral tribute from the trunk. As they walk toward a nearby grave, Tyler inquires...

"Remind me who we are visiting?"

Joan replies, "My grandmother, Eleanor. She died ten years ago."

"Do you remember her well?"

"I remember she was a great cook, and that's why my Dad and Aunt are also great at Italian cooking. Grandma Eleanor also spoke with an Italian accent so thick, you could cut it with a knife."

"It wasn't that bad." Theresa remarks before becoming silent as they reach the grave. The trio pauses in quiet reflection as Ross arrives, places the wreath on the headstone and discreetly returns to the limo.

After a couple of minutes Tyler quietly asks, "Eleanor...'Monroe'?"

Theresa responds, "Mama took back her maiden name after...the divorce."

"But 'Monroe' - I thought she was Italian?"

Joan asks, "Do you want to reveal our scandalous family history or should I, Aunt Theresa?"

"It isn't scandalous."

Joan chuckles. "The story includes an arrest of your grandfather by Eliot Ness."

Tyler says, "Oh, I've got to hear this."

Theresa sighs and begins, "My grandmother, Maria, arrived in Chicago in the 20's when she was still a teenaged girl. The family was dirt poor and naturally settled in the Little Italy section of town. Maria was considered quite a beauty and she soon attracted the attention of a local businessman named Harry Monroe..."

"The whole truth, Aunt Theresa."

"Okay, Harry Monroe was a bootlegger. He specialized in smuggling European wines into Chicago and selling them to a wide variety of ethnic restaurants. Of course in those days he could only do so by paying a large percentage of his profits to the Capone mob."

Tyler remarks, "This is getting exciting. Harry ended up marrying Maria?"

"Yes, eventually. He was much older than Maria and not even Catholic, not to mention he wasn't Italian. But Maria fell for him hard. He spoke a fair amount of Italian because of his business connections, which was fortunate because Maria spoke no English at that point. Maria's parents were at first reluctant to let their daughter marry such a man, even though he seemed to be respected and successful. To persuade her parents of his good intentions, Harry helped the family set up a small restaurant and even supplied their wines for free. How could they refuse after that? Maria and Harry were married and she went to live in his fancy apartment in the 'respectable' part of town. A year later, Mama was born."

Joan adds, "Now comes the good part."

Theresa frowns at Joan's characterization but continues, "After Capone was arrested for income tax evasion, the 'Untouchables' cranked up their campaign against all bootleggers in town. Harry was caught red-handed and was personally arrested by Eliot Ness."

"Oh the scandal!" Joan says while feigning shock.

"It's not funny! Maria was left with a baby to care for and no money. It seems 'Harry' lived the lifestyle of a rich man, but it was all a house of cards. As soon as Harry was behind bars, Maria found she had no assets and had to return to her parent's home to work in the restaurant. Prison broke Harry, and he died shortly before his sentence was up. Mama grew up in an Italian neighborhood with a name like Monroe and with a father who was absent because he was a jailbird."

Joan nods, becoming serious. "Yeah, that was rough on her, and so her mother and grandparents overcompensated. They let her have her way in all matters and provided her with the best of everything, which probably didn't make her too popular with the kids in the neighborhood. It also earned her the nickname of 'Princess'."

Theresa challenges, "Where did you get that interpretation?"

"I was a really inquisitive kid and I wanted...no, demanded to know why my grandparents were divorced. I pried out of Grandpa Gerald his view of why their marriage failed."

Theresa sniffs, "Him!"

"And Dad reluctantly confirmed it. Grandpa's grave is our next stop." Joan says as she leads the way back to the limo.

Although Joan's grandparents are buried in the same cemetery, they are as far apart as geographically possible. Eventually they park near the grave of Gerald Girardi, and Ross quickly gets another wreath from the trunk. Tyler and Joan exit the limo, but Theresa doesn't budge.

"Aunt Theresa, aren't you coming?"

"No. I have no desire to visit the grave of...that man."

"What do you mean, 'that man'? He's your father."

"Gerald Girardi stopped being my father when he cheated on Mama and destroyed our family."

Joan pauses a moment, remembering her assignment has to do with grudges. She gives Tyler a quick wink before leaning into the car and whispering...

"Aunt Theresa, please, your embarrassing me in front of Tyler. Do you want him to be turned off of me due to our family drama?"

Theresa hesitates, weighing her lifelong disdain for her father against her desire to see her beloved niece in a successful relationship with a man like Tyler Christian, billionaire.

"Okay Joan, I'll come - but only for you."

"Thank you, Auntie."

The trio proceed to the grave and arrive as Ross is returning to the car. The wreath is already resting on the headstone. Once again everyone automatically becomes quiet and contemplative. Joan can tell that being at her father's grave for the first time is an emotional strain on her aunt.

Tyler remarks, "A double headstone, but the other name, Margaret Girardi, has no death date."

Joan answers, "That's grandpa's second wife, and she is still alive and residing in Chicago."

"And the rank...Captain?"

"Grandpa was a uniformed Chicago cop for thirty years. He loved the job, and for a few years before his retirement, Dad and he were on the force at the same time. It was one of the few things they could talk civilly about. Grandpa died a year after he retired. I was eight at the time."

"Do you remember him well?"

"Not really. I only saw Grandpa Gerald a few times growing up. Even at a young age I realized relations between Dad and Grandpa were incredibly strained."

"Because of the break up of his first marriage?"

"Oh, it goes way beyond that. Care to try to explain Aunt Theresa, or shall I? Fair warning, my version comes off a little angry."

Theresa turns her head away. "I will not participate in this conversation."

"Okay, my version. Gerald and Eleanor had a horrible marriage. They fought all the time and only remained together for the 'sake of the kids' and because of the demands of the church - no divorce."

"That's not true..." Theresa protests.

"My version, remember? Anyway, one night after the two of them had the mother of all fights, Gerald stormed out - the male option when there are kids. Gerald goes to a bar, gets thoroughly drunk, and has the bad luck to meet a sexy co-worker who has the hots for him, with the usual results. The next day Gerald, hungover and wracked with Catholic guilt, goes to Eleanor and begs her forgiveness. 'Princess' isn't the forgiving type and she files for divorce."

Joan pauses as she sees Theresa is begining to get misty eyed...

"Joan, why are you doing this?"

"I'm venting. That's what happens when you let anger build up. You see Tyler, my grandparent's divorce wasn't one of those civilized ones. It was as bitter and nasty as Eleanor could make it. She did everything she could to turn her kids against their own father. That's why Aunt Theresa never spoke to Gerald for the rest of his life, and my Dad could barely tolerate the man, and only spoke to him when he felt obligated by family duty."

"Divorce often leads to such tragic results. It's a sad but common story."

"Well, here's the uncommon part. I was never told that Grandpa remarried, or that he had another son, my Uncle Richard. I was sixteen years old before I stumbled upon the truth!"

"Joan, that's...shocking, but how is it possible?"

"Because my entire family took part in a conspiracy to deny me and my brothers the knowledge of other family members. Co-conspirators included my parents, my grandmother, my dear Auntie and even my grandfather who had to keep the secret as the price of being allowed to see his own grandchildren!"

Joan glares at her aunt who blushes deeply. "I never lied to you."

"Except by omission. How could you take part in such a travesty, Aunt Theresa?"

"As you said, it was by omission. I never met this 'Richard' or his mother. It was Willie's idea to keep it all a secret. Even though he occasionally spoke to...our father, Willie was by far the angriest of us. Our family struggled in poverty, especially after the restaurant went out of business. Meanwhile, 'Gerald' and his new family lived a life of ease. It wasn't fair that we were tossed aside in favor of those...new people."

"Uncle Richard says Grandpa offered plenty of times to help Eleanor, but she always turned him down. She preferred to have her children think her ex was a monster rather than see them fully provided for." (Footnote.)

"That's a lie!"

"How would you know? You never spoke to your father after you were eight years old, and you've never even met Richard. Are you really certain Eleanor couldn't be that vindictive?"

Theresa hesitates, going over in her mind their family's sordid past. "Well...Mama could carry a grudge, and she did become especially bitter after the restaurant failed. I don't know...maybe things were as messed up as you say, Joan. Even as a child, I knew my parent's divorce was outside the ordinary but...I grew to accept Mama's view of our world. It became my way of thinking too."

Joan takes Theresa's hand and leads her to the grave. "We were both eight years old when we lost him. You because of the divorce, and me because he died much too soon. But even at eight, I could form a judgement of his character. Grandpa was a good man at heart."

Theresa begins to sob and Joan gives her a supportive hug.

"Aunt Theresa, I forgive you for keeping me in the dark all of those years. Can you forgive him?"

Lip trembling, Theresa Girardi cries out, "Oh Papa..."

X X X X X

Joan yawns. No, mustn't give in to sleepiness - not now of all times. But it has been a long day, starting with jogging before sunrise, and now it is nearly midnight. Joan checks her appearance in the mirror - not bad, even if she does say so herself. Hair and make-up look good, and the lingerie ought to cause Tyler's eyes to pop out. It is an ankle length pink nightgown that is completely see-through except for three strategically placed heart-shaped spots with a darker pink lace. If only they had gotten an earlier start on this evening of romance-slash-sex.

After Theresa's breakdown at the cemetery, Joan had Tyler drive them home. It was odd the way she trusted Tyler not to be judgemental or turned off by all of this family drama, but somehow Joan just knew he would be understanding. They agreed to reconnect that evening as soon as Joan had her aunt calmed down. Unfortunately, that took far more time than Joan had considered. There were decades of hard feelings to deal with, and a complete reorganizing of Theresa's way of thinking about her parents. Theresa spent a lot of time defending her mother, which Joan couldn't completely disagree with - after all, Gerald did break up the marriage through his one time of cheating. Still, it was a slow process for Theresa to accept that her father wasn't the total villian Eleanor had spent years painting him to be.

Eventually Joan managed to convince her aunt that it was time to reach out to a side of the family she had pretended didn't exist. Joan made a phone call to Uncle Richard, whom she has remained in contact with ever since discovering his existence. He was more than eager to speak to the half-sister he only knew by name. It was awkward at first, but gradually Theresa opened up and listened attentively to Richard's side of the family story, including much about the missing years of Theresa's father. Aunt Theresa was delighted to learn she has another niece and nephew and tenative plans were made for Theresa to visit Richard in Baltimore when Theresa comes to Arcadia this summer to help with Willie's campaign. (Richard was highly amused by the 'Willie' reference.) Both brother and sister expressed the hope that Willie would join them in the planned family reunion.

Finally free to resume her evening with Tyler, Joan travelled to his condo for a catered late supper, complete with a serving staff. Unlike most of the guys Joan has known, Tyler turned out to be a true romantic who preferred the slow seduction complete with soft music, candles and expensive wine. By the time the staff was dismissed for the evening, and after a bit of make-out time, it was very late. Joan's visit to the master bedroom's bath to prepare for 'romance' has come almost too late for her to remain awake. Still, she is determined to follow through with their plans for the night, and hopes she doesn't fall asleep.

With one last look in the mirror, Joan reaches for the door handle and...freezes. Suddenly a overwhelming nervousness engulfs her. What is she doing, about to have sex with a guy she has known measured only in hours? This is not how she was raised. True, she likes Tyler and is very attracted to him, but she has never been the type of girl who bed hops with every cute guy she meets. Despite the strong connection she feels for Tyler, one that she cannot fully explain, she knows she doesn't love him, nor does he love her. Perhaps in time a greater commitment could be possible between them, but for the moment it is just friendship with a fair amount of lust.

Is that enough? She was so sure before when making her plans to come to Chicago...or was she? Perhaps Tyler was right, she is here to avoid the romantic maelstrom Dylan Hunter represents in her life. It was the perfect excuse to avoid having to spend spring break with Dylan - the visit to Martha where she could hardly bring a boyfriend along... Boyfriend? The very word causes Joan to shudder. Okay, brutal honesty time. Part of the reason she is here, in Chicago and with Tyler, is that the one night she spent with Dylan...scared her. It has been less than a year since Jimmy's death, and she is not ready to go down that path again, at least not yet. Dylan is so damn sure, 100 percent sure, that the two of them are destined soul mates. In those rare moments when Joan is willing to contemplate that possibility, she is at most 50 percent sure. Maybe that unresolved grudge from their early days is the problem. After all, God's assignment for her was about resolving old grudges...

"Joan?" Tyler's voice calls from the bedroom.

Joan sighs and turns the door handle. Ready or not...? Would Tyler hate her if she called off tonight's activities at such a late moment? Well, maybe not hate but he would be pissed. Joan enters the bedroom and sees the joy in Tyler's eyes as he takes in her nearly naked form.

"Joan, you look exquisite."

"Exquisite? I've never been called that before. I think I like it." Joan says as she sees Tyler has changed too. He is now wearing a knee length black silk robe, and probably nothing else.

"I was begining to worry you had changed your mind." Tyler says as he takes Joan into his arms and gives her a long, romantic kiss.

"More like I was about to fall asleep. I was up at dawn to jog, so it has been a long day for me." Joan says as she returns the kiss with considerable fervor. That hot Girardi libido begins to stir and Joan feels her tiredness and doubts start to fade.

Trying not to sound disappointed Tyler responds, "If you're too tired, we don't have to..."

Joan smiles and shakes her head. Tyler really is a hot guy, and Joan feels that connection between them as strongly as ever. "No, I'm getting my second wind. Just don't be surprised if I fall asleep right afterwards."

"I promise not to be offended."

They resume kissing, and gentle caresses soon follow. But...Joan senses a certain reluctance in Tyler. Somthing is bothering him enough to distract from a moment when no distractions should exist.

"Tyler, what's wrong?"

"I...need to tell you something."

"Now?"

"Yes, definitely before...this. It has to do with why we didn't sleep together that first night."

"We've already been through that. I forgive you for being such a perfect gentleman, so stop and be a caveman for now."

"Joan, this is important."

"Gee, you're not about to tell me you're a virgin, are you?"

"Be serious."

Joan frowns. "You better not be about to say you're married."

"No, not that."

Joan gulps and asks, "Disease...?"

"No, thank God, not that either."

"Then what?"

"That first night in Atlantic City, I...used sexual charisma on you."

Joan steps quickly back, shocked. In her expereince there has only been one other man, wealthy and charming, who regularly used the ability of sexual charisma to seduce and control women he found useful to his plans - including the seduction of one of Joan's close friends. Ryan Hunter.

"What the hell are you?"

To Be Continued.

(Footnote: My version of the Gerald/Eleanor breakup and subsequent third child for Gerald is found in my story, MY OLD MAN.)