by Irene Hannon
But Jared’s case was even more difficult. He not only needed exposure to the business world, but step-by-step guidance. And someone who believed in his potential.
David was too new in town to have a lot of contacts yet. He was still making the rounds of area businesses, selling in the program, meeting the right people, answering questions. He couldn’t just pick up the phone and secure the perfect spot for Jared.
Or could he?
* * *
“Caroline, I have David Sloan on the line for you. Do you want to take the call?”
Surprised, Caroline stared at the thank-you note from David on her desk, expressing his appreciation for the story that had run earlier in the week about Uplink. Tess had received a similar note. Though few people bothered with such niceties after the Chronicle ran a story, she hadn’t been surprised when David’s handwritten note arrived. It had just seemed like something he would do.
But she was surprised by his call. With the story finished and his note sent, she’d expected that to be the end of their contact. Had hoped it would be, in fact. She still found it difficult to deal with him. And was disturbed by the questions that his reappearance in her life had raised. It had been easy to paint him as the villain in the dilemma with his mother when all she had to go on was Michael’s angry assessment of the situation. It had been a whole lot harder to reconcile the living, breathing man, who exuded character and integrity and honor, with the uncaring, selfish portrait of him that Michael had painted in his fury after David had reneged on their promise.
Of course, that was all over now. The rift between the brothers was history. It didn’t much matter who had been right and who had been wrong. Yet every time she heard from David, the questions were stirred up in Caroline’s mind. Had she been too harsh in her judgment of David? Had she been unfair in accepting Michael’s judgment at face value? And at this point, why should she care? Caroline didn’t have the answer to any of those questions, especially the last one. And she wasn’t even sure she wanted to find them. That’s why she preferred to cut all contact with David.
“Caroline?”
“Sorry, Mary. I got distracted for a minute.” She could refuse his call. But that wasn’t a very mature way to behave, she supposed. She’d had the distinct feeling that he hadn’t intended to contact her again, either. If he was doing so, there must be a good reason. She might as well talk to him. “Okay, put him through.”
After her greeting, his voice came over the line. “Thanks for taking my call, Caroline. I know you’re busy.”
“No problem. What can I do for you?”
“I have an idea I’d like to run by you, if you could spare a few minutes.”
She glanced at her watch. “I’ve got about ten minutes now, if that works.”
“I’d prefer to do this in person. There’s a show-and-tell component.”
“Is this personal or business related?”
She didn’t try to disguise the wariness in her voice. Nor did he miss it.
“Business.” His reply was prompt and definite.
The tautness in Caroline’s shoulders eased. Curiosity replaced tension, and she reached for her calendar. As usual, almost every second of her day was booked. She flipped to the next week. Not much better. But she had one open slot late on Thursday.
“How about April thirtieth at three o’clock?”
A frown creased David’s brow. That was pushing it. Finalists were scheduled to be notified by May first and interviewed the following week at sponsoring businesses. “Is there any way you can squeeze me in sometime this week? I’m sorry to push, but this is important and there’s some urgency due to our deadlines.”
Flipping back the calendar, Caroline scanned her schedule as she spoke. “Do you want to give me a hint what this is about?”
No, he didn’t. David knew from experience that it was too easy for people to say no over the phone. He wanted Caroline to see Jared’s work before she made a decision. But her question was legitimate. In her place, he’d ask the same thing. Time was at a premium in most jobs.
“I have an unusual Uplink applicant whose talent has blown me away. I’d like to get a second opinion before I try to place him, and his skills are in your area of expertise. Since I’m new in town, you’re the only journalist I know well enough to call.” Okay, that wasn’t the whole truth. But he’d rather press his case for the Chronicle’s involvement in person.
“Okay. I can do that.” She scanned her schedule again, doing some rapid mental rearranging. She’d planned to run a couple of errands over lunch tomorrow, but they could be deferred. “I’ve got about forty-five minutes tomorrow at noon. Would that work?”
“Only if you let me buy you lunch.”
She seemed surprised by the invitation. But no more than he was. Since he’d planned to keep this strictly business, introducing a social component wasn’t a good idea.
“That’s not necessary,” she assured him.
“At least let me bring some sandwiches.”
“Really, David, you don’t have to do that.”
“Would turkey be okay?”
He wasn’t going to relent, she realized. Besides, it wasn’t that big a deal. She should eat lunch, anyway. If he didn’t bring food, though, she knew she’d skip. Again. She’d never regained the weight she’d lost after Michael’s death, and her mother was always on her about eating more.
“Turkey’s fine. Thanks. About noon?”
“I’ll be there. I appreciate your time, Caroline.”
“No problem. See you tomorrow.”
No problem. The words echoed in his mind as he hung up. Maybe not for her. But seeing Caroline again was a big problem for him, given his feelings for her. Only a compelling need to help Jared would have prompted him to make another contact. To take that risk. And risk was the right word—one that had been on his mind a lot in recent weeks, thanks to Jared. Taking a chance on the troubled teenager put Uplink in a high-risk situation. Not to mention the risk he was taking professionally. If things didn’t work out, his new career could be toast.
But all at once that risk paled in comparison to the one he was taking on a personal level by seeing Caroline again. Because when it came to his emotions, he was on dangerous ground with her. And he felt far less confident about controlling that risk.
Chapter Six
“Caroline, David Sloan is here.”
Shifting the phone to her other ear, Caroline reached for a pad of paper and a pen. “Thanks, Mary. Can you show him to the conference room? Tell him I’ll be with him as soon as I return a call.”
“Sure thing.”
By the time Caroline joined him a few minutes later, David had unpacked the lunch and eating utensils, and set a three-ring binder on the table. He rose as she entered and held out his hand, taking her slender fingers in a firm grip.
“Sorry to keep you waiting. I had to return an urgent call,” she apologized.
“I’m just glad you could squeeze me in.” He waited until she took her seat, then sat as well. “There’s a little deli near my office that makes a great turkey on whole wheat. I picked up a few other things, too.”
Surveying the containers of pasta salad, potato salad and fresh fruit salad—not to mention brownies—Caroline shook her head. “This is more than I eat for lunch in a week.”
“You can afford to indulge.”
As she reached for her sandwich, she angled a bemused look his way. “Now you sound like my mother. She’s always on me about my weight.”
“You do look thinner than I remember.”
Her hand stilled on the plastic wrap for a fraction of a second before she continued to unwrap her sandwich. “Life keeps me busy. Sometimes too busy to take time for meals. But I have a healthy appetite when I do eat.” As if to illustrate her point
, she took a big bite of her sandwich, then scooped a large serving of pasta salad onto her plate. “Is this the work of the student you mentioned?” She nodded toward the portfolio as she chewed.
“Yes. Jared Poole. I saw some of his photographs on the wall when I did a presentation at his school, and later found out he’s a talented writer as well. But he isn’t a typical Uplink candidate. He has gang ties, which he’s trying to break, and is only a marginal student overall. He also has a truancy issue. Not to mention an attitude problem. The chip on his shoulder is more like a boulder.”
Tilting her head, Caroline gave him a puzzled look. “With all those negatives, why are you considering him? The gang connection in particular is troubling.”
“I agree. But without help, his future looks pretty bleak. His father disappeared before he was born, his mother died of a drug overdose when he was a little kid and he’s being raised by a grandmother who has to clean office buildings at night just to keep food on the table. From what I can tell, no one’s ever given him a break. Uplink could make a huge difference in his life.”
“Maybe. But he sounds risky.”
“He is.”
Her perceptive hazel eyes missing nothing, Caroline scrutinized his face. “There’s more behind your interest, isn’t there?”
Instead of giving her a direct response, David slid the portfolio closer to her. “Take a look.”
Wiping her hands on a napkin, Caroline opened the binder. Writing and photo samples had been slipped into plastic sheets, and she took her time reviewing each one. The minutes slipped by, and David continued to eat, watching in silence as she gave her full attention to the material in Jared’s folder.
She spent a long time examining the three photos that had first caught David’s attention, and when she at last closed the binder and looked over at him, he could see that she was impressed even before she voiced her single-word assessment.
“Wow.”
“That’s what I thought. But I’m not an expert.”
“How old is he?”
“Seventeen.”
She shook her head. “His writing is very good. But the photos...they’re exceptional.”
“Now you can see why I didn’t want to let him slip through the cracks. A talent like his needs to be nurtured.”
“I agree.”
“Here’s the issue, though.” David wiped his lips on a paper napkin and leaned forward, his face intent as he folded his hands on the table in front of him. “Taking Jared on would require a huge commitment from the sponsoring organization. He’s going to need personal attention and understanding and patience. He’ll need to be challenged and held accountable. That’s assuming we find an organization that recognizes his talents and can put them to good use.”
As Caroline gazed into David’s serious, deep brown eyes, a wry smile touched the corners of her lips—even as her heart did an odd flip-flop that threw her off balance for a brief instant. “I think I’m beginning to see why you offered to buy me lunch.”
“Not that you’ve eaten any of it.” David was well aware that she’d taken only a couple of bites of her sandwich and a forkful of pasta salad before she’d become absorbed in Jared’s portfolio.
“This happens all the time. There are way too many interruptions at the office to make take-out worthwhile. But this is really good.” She reached for her sandwich and took another bite.
“So...what do you think? Would you even consider taking Jared for the summer? Assuming you wanted him after an interview, of course.”
Her face grew speculative as she chewed, and she sipped her soda before responding. “We’ve never hired an intern. They tend to require significant training time from a staff already stretched too thin. And just when we start to get some productivity out of them, the internship ends.”
“I understand those concerns. It’s no great bargain for the sponsoring organizations, although the students do work for minimum wage, so it’s not a big financial commitment. But it does require staff time from one or two people. We like students to be assigned to a mentor or two who can guide them through the process and make sure they’re getting the most out of the experience. The rewards for the student are incalculable, though.”
Once more, Caroline opened the portfolio to the black-and-white photos. Her face softened as she studied them, her lunch once again forgotten. “Michael once told me about the mentor who recognized his talent and set him on the right path. He always talked about how much he owed him, and how he wanted to do the same someday for some other young person.”
She turned to the next page, to the photo of the two children looking toward the sky. “Jared’s photos make me think of Michael,” she continued, and the quiet wistfulness in her voice tightened David’s throat. “Even though there’s a desolation to them, something shines through that touches my heart. Michael’s photos made me think of the preciousness of each individual life. These make me think of aspirations and hopes and dreams.”
When she looked up, the pensive expression on David’s face made her suspect that the parallels hadn’t been lost on him, either.
“I thought the same thing,” he confirmed, after clearing his throat.
“So are you doing this for Jared? Or for Michael?”
He hesitated, then gave her an honest answer. “Maybe both.”
Indecision flickered in her eyes, and David prayed she’d at least consider taking Jared on.
“Let me think about it. I’d also like to share Jared’s work with our chief photographer, Bill Baker. He’d be the logical mentor on the photography side. Can I get back to you tomorrow with an answer?”
“Sure.” He’d hoped for an affirmative response today. But at least she hadn’t said no.
Checking her watch, Caroline rose. “I’m sorry to run, but I have an interview at one and I need to prep.”
David stood as well and began gathering up the remnants of their lunch. “I understand. I appreciate your giving up your lunch hour to see me.”
“And I appreciate the lunch.”
“You didn’t eat much of it.”
Reaching for her sandwich, she rewrapped it. “I’ll finish this later.”
“I’ll leave the rest, too.”
“Thanks. My mother would love that pasta salad. And I’m going to see her tonight.”
“Perfect. Give her my best.” David held out his hand. “I’ll wait to hear from you.”
She took it, and as his lean fingers closed around hers and their gazes met, her heart did that funny flip-flop thing again. He had wonderful eyes, she realized. Warm and insightful and caring. And his grip was sure and strong, yet gentle and comforting. By look and by touch, he made her feel protected and cherished. Did he have this effect on everyone? she wondered, feeling a bit dazed.
As they stared at each other, Caroline sensed an almost imperceptible tightening of his grip. A flash of something she couldn’t identify ricocheted through his eyes, come and gone with such speed that she wondered if she’d imagined it. Then, with a move that startled her by its abruptness, David released her hand and took a step back.
“I hope you find time to finish that.” He gestured toward the sandwich she was clutching in her hand. With a brief nod, he turned away and strode out of the conference room.
For a full minute, Caroline stared after him, trying to figure out what had just happened. Whatever had flared to life in David’s eyes had made her heart trip into double time, and for a brief second she’d felt...attracted to him. But that was impossible. She’d resented him for two years. Besides, he was the brother of the man she’d loved. The man she still loved. She shouldn’t feel anything for him except friendship. Couldn’t feel anything. It would be wrong. A betrayal of Michael. Of their love. Whatever had just happened must have been simply a fluke. And no doubt she’d read far too m
uch into it.
Even so, discussing his visit with her mother wasn’t going to be easy. And she refused to consider why.
* * *
“This is great pasta salad! A perfect accompaniment to our first barbecue of the year.” Caroline’s mother, Judy, helped herself to another serving as the sun dipped behind the trees at the back of the yard, dimming the light on the brick patio.
“I’m glad you like it.” Before her mother could comment further, Caroline switched topics. “Now tell me how the square dancing lessons are going. Is Harold catching on?”
“He’s trying, let me just say that. And you have to give a man credit for trying.” She took a closer look at the pasta salad. “I think there’s avocado in here. Where did you get this?”
Caroline took a deep breath and plunged in. “I had a meeting at noon with David Sloan today. He brought lunch. This was left over.”
Judy stared at her daughter, the pasta salad now forgotten. “You met with David again?”
“Yes. He wants the Chronicle to take an Uplink intern for the summer.”
“Are you going to?”
“I don’t know yet. This particular student has problems. And it takes a lot of staff time to deal with an intern.”
“But time well spent, I would think, from what you’ve told me about Uplink.”
It was hard to argue with that. “I gave Bill the student’s portfolio. I want to see what he thinks about his potential.”
“What kind of problems does this student have?”
As Caroline gave her a brief overview, Judy shook her head. “It makes you appreciate your own blessings when you hear a story like that. The boy sounds like he could use a break.”
Tracing the ring of moisture left by her water glass on the patio table, Caroline’s face grew melancholic. “His situation reminds me a lot of Michael’s. Not the upbringing. But the raw talent, just waiting to be recognized and directed.”