Sitting opposite her, I thought how completely unlike Valerie she was.
Valerie had always been interested in anything I had done. She had a shrewd, intelligent mind and I had always discussed my business problems with her and she had always come up with useful suggestions.
Valerie!
Six years ago. I had become manager of the A.TS. office in the Statler Hilton, Boston. Roy Cannon, the outgoing manager (he had been transferred to New York) had met me at the airport. I had flown in from Cincinnati where I had been running the A.T.S. office at the Terrace Hilton. We had stopped in at the airport bar for a drink and to get to know each other.
‘The one thing and the only thing that gripes me leaving Boston,’ Cannon said as we propped up the bar, ‘is losing the best secretary I’ve ever had. My loss, your gain. She’s priceless and I’m not kidding. Never a moan if we work late, gorgeous to look at, terrific memory, fixes everything for you... you can’t imagine...’
Although I didn’t believe Cannon’s eulogy, I quickly discovered he hadn’t been exaggerating. Valerie Dart was everything he had said she was: tall, with long, raven black hair, big blue eyes and a wide generous mouth: she was a beauty and her efficiency was unbelievable.
Within a few days I was in love with her, but although she was friendly, there was that little coolness that warned me not to rush my fences. We worked together from 09.30 until 18.00 which meant I saw more of her than I would have done had we been married. She had her own car and when we left the office, she would give me a smile and a wave and drive away. I had no part of her private life. She never discussed what she did in her spare time. Her coolness and her correct behaviour kept me at a distance.
Finally, with thumping heart, I asked her to have dinner with me. She had looked startled, and then had smiled. ‘Thank you: that would be nice.’
I took her to a good seafood restaurant and between courses, we danced: still the coolness and I was on my best behaviour. It became a regular thing to take her out to dinner every Friday night, but when I suggested a movie on Wednesday night, she politely refused.
By then I had her in my blood like a virus. I knew there could be no other woman for me. She was the one, and even if I had to wait and wait, she would still be the one.
I stepped up the pace by giving her flowers and candy. I made the excuse it was my way of expressing appreciation for the way she helped me in the office.
Then one Friday night, some three months after I had met her, while we were dancing, I couldn’t hold back any longer.
‘Val,’ I said. ‘I’m in love with you. I think you must have guessed it by now. Could you think of marrying me? It’s what I want more than anything else in the world. I just know we could be happy together. Tell me how you feel about me. Have I a chance?’
She rested her head against my shoulder so I couldn’t see her face and we continued to dance for a few minutes, then she looked up and smiled at me. That smile made my heart leap.
‘Yes, Clay, you have a chance, but I don’t want to get married yet.’
I led her off the dance floor, out of the restaurant and on to the jetty, dimly lit by the moon.
‘Are you telling me I mean something to you, Val?’ I couldn’t believe it.
‘You do mean something to me.’ She kissed my check. ‘But don’t rush me. Let’s wait a while. If I marry you, I would want to run your home. I don’t want to give up the office for a while. Please be patient with me.’
I was too happy to sleep that night.
The following morning, I had a call from head office. Vice President John Ryner wanted to see me. Wondering what it was all about, I left Val to take charge of the morning stint — it was Saturday and we closed at 13.00 — and flew down to New York.
Ryner received me cordially and came straight to the point.
‘Clay, it’s time you took a look at the European scene. We’ve arranged for you to work at our branch in London for six months and in our Paris branch for another six months. Take the chance to polish up your French while you’re in Paris. More and more people are visiting London and Paris, and for you to be efficiently helpful you must know the up-to-date scene. I’m putting Bill Olson in your place at the Statler Hilton, but the job will be waiting for you on your return with a fifteen hundred raise. When can you get off?’
I did some quick thinking. The last thing I wanted was to be parted from Val, but she had told me she wanted time before we married and I knew she wouldn’t be rushed. With a fifteen hundred increase, we could live pretty comfortably.
I said I would go when he wanted me to go.
‘Tuesday?’
‘Okay.’ It was rushing it, but the sooner I left, the sooner I would be back.
‘Fine.’ I could see he was pleased. ‘Olson will be up on Monday. Miss Dart can show him the ropes.’ He looked at me. ‘She’s a damn good secretary, isn’t she?’
‘The best.’ I wondered how he would react if I broke the news that the agency might be losing her.
Before leaving New York, I called Boston and just managed to catch Val as she was shutting the office.
‘I’ll be back at four, Val,’ I said. ‘I must talk to you. Can you meet the plane?’
‘Yes, of course.’
I had an hour before my flight. I went to a nearby jeweller’s shop and bought an engagement ring: two emeralds and a diamond. I had it gift wrapped, then took a taxi to the airport.
Val was waiting for me. As we walked together to the parking lot where she had left her VW, she asked, ‘What was it all about Clay?’
‘Big deal,’ I said, smiling at her. ‘Let’s drive to Franklin Park. Now tell me about your morning. Anything happen?’
She could see I didn’t want to talk until we could be somewhere quiet so while she drove she told me of the morning’s activities. Business had been brisk and she had finally persuaded an elderly couple to go on a world tour.
They had been nibbling at the bait for some tune and I had almost given them up.
We left the car and walked through the rose gardens in the park until we found a deserted bench. We sat in the sun and I told her what Ryner wanted me to do.
‘I hate leaving you, Val’ I said, ‘but this will give you the chance to make up your mind. I’ll be away a year. When I get back, I hope you’ll be all set to marry me. I wouldn’t do this if it wasn’t for the raise. An extra fifteen hundred will come in handy to set up home, won’t it?’
She looked searchingly at me.
‘I’ll miss you Clay.’
I gave her the ring. When she had unwrapped it and opened the little box, she caught her breath, then looked at me, her eyes scared.
‘I can’t accept this Clay. No... it’s too binding. Please...’
She thrust the box at me, but I wouldn’t take it. ‘It’s sweet of you, but anything can happen in a year. I think I love you, but I do want to be sure. I don’t want to feel tied.’
I was disappointed by her reaction, but I didn’t show it.
‘You won’t be tied. Wear it on your right hand to please me. When you have made up your mind, put it on your left hand. What’s wrong with that as an idea?’
‘It’s a beautiful ring.’ She regarded it for a long moment, then took it from the box and slipped it on the third finger of her right hand. ‘There... does that please you?’ She leaned forward and we kissed. ‘Now, I am going to cook dinner for you,’ she went on. ‘I want you to know I’m just as efficient in the home as I am at the office.’
We drove back to the City, and she bought the ingredients for dinner, then she drove me to her complex.
It was a beautifully kept apartment and the dinner was superb.
We talked long into the night and when I finally left, we arranged to spend the following day — Sunday — at the Salisbury Beach reservation. It was the happiest and most wonderful week end I had ever had.