The following excerpt comes from the novel,
Arms of Love, by Carmen Marcoux.

Chapter 6
(Because you are coming in part-way through the novel,
you may find the characters and settings unfamiliar. 
We chose this chapter because it gives a good taste of the style of the novel,
without giving away the story-line.)

The information on this page is copyrighted by Carmen Marcoux, 2002.
For permission to reprint, please contact the webmaster.

Published by One Way Publishing House, Canada, 2002

Chapter 6

The rest of the work week passed by uneventfully. Joanie had comfortably settled into the routines of her new life. The job was going well and Shelly had complimented Joanie several times on the reports that she had been turning out daily.

It was Thursday of the following week before Brandon made an appearance in the staff lounge at lunchtime. Since that night at adoration, Joanie knew she would have much more confidence in dealing with Brandon. This, though, would be her first opportunity to exercise that confidence. As Brandon approached, Joanie braced herself with a quick prayer.

"Won't you join us, Brandon?" she asked, without so much as looking at him while she poured herself a coffee. She went to sit at the lunch table with Tessa.

Tessa grabbed Joanie's arm at the elbow. Once they were out of earshot she reprimanded Joanie. "Why do you encourage him? Listen, Joanie, he's no good!" Her tone was steady and somewhat severe, like that of an older sister looking out for the younger one. Joanie knew it well.

"Relax, Tessa, the Lord ate with sinners all the time." Joanie smiled with such gentle strength that Tessa could not help but back down.

Brandon chuckled to himself as he poured a coffee, imagining the exchange between these two women as they walked away. He liked the spunkiness that Joanie possessed and found it amusing that she had avoided eye contact with him. She was unlike any girl he had ever before pursued—resistant to his advances.

"Ladies." Brandon nodded to them both as he took a spot across the table. His eyes met Joanie's and this time she returned his look with complete sincerity.

"Tell me about your work, Brandon. You must be awfully busy, since I rarely have the pleasure of seeing you here." Her hand turned gracefully as she indicated the staff lounge.

"I'm touched that you've missed me," he returned, placing his hand to his heart, feigning flattery. In spite of his little act, he was distracted by

"We're loaded," Tessa asserted. "Just do your job!" She waved him on with her hand.

He chuckled at the two girls before him. "Fair enough," he went on. "First, I'd create a storyboard for your commercial and then present it to you."

"Well go ahead," Joanie prompted him. "We're waiting." She looked over at Tessa who nodded back to Brandon.

"Generally my clients give me more time to form an idea," he put forth as a disclaimer, "but I'll just give you a real sketchy impression here." He looked away momentarily, thoughtfully considering the topic. "Fine." He was ready.

Leaning back in his chair, he proceeded. "Picture a beautiful young woman in different scenes with men approaching her. She rejects them every time. And at the end you see this same woman, now an old spinster, knitting in a parlour. Lonely . . . pensive . . . wishing she hadn't been such a prude when she was young and beautiful and had the chance, 'cause now she realizes the parade has passed her by." His expression was completely controlled as he waited for a response.

Joanie and Tessa both burst out laughing at the same time and shook their heads in amazement.

"Wow!" Joanie exclaimed. "If I didn't think you were kidding, I'd hit you!"

Brandon's eyes flashed playfully at the young woman before him. He shrugged his shoulders innocently. "You asked for it, honey! But please," he put his hands up before him, "no violence."

Joanie turned to Tessa, who was still laughing. Tessa responded, "Well, Joanie, I guess you can't advertise something of which you have absolutely no concept!"

"You got that right, sister!" Brandon replied, quite candidly.

Joanie resumed a professional manner, still wanting to find out about Brandon's work. "Okay, Mr. Producer, we accept—love the idea! It gives such a clear image of the subject. Now what?"

Brandon smiled at her. "You don't give up, do you?"

"Not often," Joanie admitted.

"Well, from there I'd hire the actors and produce the commercial. There's editing and mixing, the usual stuff. It's not much different from your news clips, except . . . I get to be creative with the little extras, like

the music." His manner changed and he leaned forward with enthusiasm as he continued. "That's my favourite part. You know music really makes or breaks a commercial. It carries it . . . it grabs a person's attention, makes them remember it. It basically sells the product, even after the commercial's over."

Brandon had become quite open and reflective. Joanie looked at him with her head tilted slightly and smiled. "I agree," she stated plainly. The façade was down. Brandon's arrogant ways seemed to have disappeared. In fact, he really impressed her with his sensitivity to the nature of his work. There really was more to this guy than what had first met the eye.

All at once Brandon found himself caught up in Joanie's eyes with his guard down. He resumed his typical manner so abruptly that Joanie started. "Yeah, well," he continued, "then I take it back to my client and get approval on the product, and it airs. That's pretty much it." He glanced down at his watch, uncomfortably. "I'm late here. Nice visiting with you ladies—I'll catch you 'round." He nodded his head to them and rushed off, without a chance for reply.

Joanie and Tessa exchanged a look as much as to say: What just happened here? They laughed and gave each other a high-five.

"I owe you an apology, Joanie," Tessa confessed, shaking her head in disbelief. "Here I call myself a Christian, yet I never saw anything good in that guy, other than his looks. But I think there just might be some depth to his personality after all . . . even if he has no concept of chastity."

Joanie smiled and just kept shaking her head in disbelief. "To be honest, Tessa, I hadn't seen anything there either. But I think you might just be right!"

V V V

That night at the supper table, Joanie found herself talking for the first time about Brandon. She was keenly interested in his field of work. And now she could talk about him without the embarrassment and confusion she had first experienced upon making his acquaintance.

Joanie's mother's and father's eyes caught each other several times over the course of that meal. John was telling Judy that he was not going to sit by and watch his little girl get carried off by the first good-looking, smooth-talking commercial producer she met.

Her mother's eyes returned his look with a confidence that said: We've raised a bright and beautiful girl, who stands rock-solid on the foundation we laid for her. Relax!

After twenty-three years of marriage, each could read the other's mind as easily as they spoke. Joanie, caught up in her excitement, missed the entire conversation.

V V V

Over the next few weeks at work, Joanie and Tessa actually came to look forward to Brandon's occasional drop-in visits in the staff lounge. There was something easy about the relationship they were forging and Joanie was grateful for Tessa's presence. It helped to keep her on track and grounded. And it certainly seemed to help Brandon behave. Tessa, at twenty-eight, was only two years his senior, but still she held a certain amount of clout over him.

Their conversations generally centred on his work, since Joanie was endlessly questioning him about new projects. Brandon always managed, though, to work in mention of Joanie's news reports. He would tease her that it was the only thing he looked forward to seeing on the news each night.

She humbly received his praise. It was an effort not to allow him to work his charm over her. Brandon found the humility of her responses curiously alluring. She was not easily overcome by flattery.

It did not take long before Brandon was expressing further interest in Joanie. She shared with him the basic details: she was Catholic, from a large family and had been home-schooled. But she was guarded at allowing him to probe too deeply. Concerned with the effect he had upon her, Joanie was determined to establish a certain emotional distance with this man. As her resistance to his inquiries fortified, Brandon became all the more intrigued.

V V V

One Friday afternoon, in early July, Brandon showed up unexpectedly at coffee break. Joanie had only ever seen him there at lunch hours and she suddenly found herself caught off-guard. He strolled over to the coffee

machine where she was standing, and gave Joanie a look that set off an alarm inside of her. Tessa was not there and Joanie felt an instant wave of panic grab her.

His physical stature was impressive and she felt weak and small with him so close up. Never before had she realized how distracting a man's cologne could be, but it was. She fumbled a quick, Help Lord, as she faced her adversary.

"Why hello, Brandon, what brings you here? I never see you at coffee time. I was—" she was desperately searching for words to gain control of the situation when he cut her off.

"What are you up to this weekend?" His manner was that of a skilled hunter. He was cool and collected as he closed in on his prey.

Pray! Joanie reproached herself. She threw her heart before the mercy of heaven in a wordless plea for divine assistance.

Brandon fixed her firmly in his gaze. She felt like a deer caught in the headlights. "Um . . . uh," her fumbling only served to boost his confidence.

"Tonight, for example?" Even his body language was closing in on her. He casually reached his arm between Joanie and the coffee maker to refill his cup, cornering her by the counter.

"I'm busy—always," she replied, grasping at the most confident smile she could muster up. As she moved to slip past him, his hand reached over and caught her arm. Her heart pounded in her throat. Surely if she opened her mouth, it would come leaping out. She looked down at his strong hand holding, what now seemed to be, her really wimpy arm. Hold fast girl, she prayed intently.

"So what keeps you so busy, Church-Girl?"

The sudden, condescending reference to her faith snapped Joanie
out of her panicked state of mind. Like a soldier who had been knocked off her steed in battle, she swiftly regained her mount and looked Brandon squarely in the eye. He had given her the out. Thank you, Lord.

She answered him plainly: "Church." She pulled her arm free, walked over to the lunch table and sat, composed with confidence. Her elbows were planted firmly on the table and she watched over her coffee cup as he approached, unrelenting.

"You know," he continued in a most alluring tone of voice, "there's more to life than church, and I'd be happy to show it to you." His eyes were so blue and his look was so enticing—with the left side of his mouth

lifted in a half-smile—that Joanie could see why he was irresistible to girls and how he had acquired the reputation that he had.

Her resolve was firm, though, and she would not be overcome. Smiling in a nonchalant way she replied, "Thank you, no." Simplicity does have its merit.

Before he had a chance to go on, Joanie confidently took the lead. She reached over, picked up a pen that was lying on the lunch table and took hold of Brandon's right hand with her left. Leaning across the table, she wrote out the name and address of her church and looked up at him, saying, "You're always welcome to join us. Seven-thirty tonight. Who knows, maybe I can show you more to life than you thought I could."

With that she stood up and carried herself out of the room with the grace of a ballerina leaving the stage.

He shook his head, closed his eyes and chuckled to himself. She had done it again. Glancing down at the writing on his hand, he thought, Somehow that girl always manages to get the upper hand on me! That does demand respect.

The thought had no sooner escaped his mind when a haunting feeling came over him that he just might be headed for danger with this girl. I'd do better to read the writing on the wall, he told himself, not taking his eyes from his hand.

But the thrill of the hunt took over his moment of sobriety. He caught up his hand as though catching a set of keys and headed back up to the sound room where he had been working.

Back at her cubicle, Joanie breathed deeply, her eyes fixed on the picture of Jesus. I'm not sure what I've gotten us into, Lord, but we're in on it together. . . . Deal? Deal!

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For permission to reprint, please contact the webmaster.
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