All Our Tomorrows. Irene Hannon
Читать онлайн книгу.
at him had made David, for the first time in his life, jealous of his brother. It had also made him think about all the things he’d missed as he focused on launching his career to the exclusion of everything else—including love. Oh, he’d dated his share of women. But he’d never even considered a serious commitment. The trouble was, even though he’d opened the door to that possibility after her visit, he’d never met anyone who measured up to Caroline.
David knew that his impressions of her had been fleeting. Too fleeting to form the basis for any sort of rational attraction. Yet even as his brain reminded him of that, his heart refused to listen. For some reason, in that one brief visit, she’d touched him in a way no other woman had, before or since. She’d done so again, at Michael’s funeral, though on that occasion the attraction was tempered by grief. And guilt. Even now, he could explain it no better than he had been able to two years before. He’d assumed that her appeal would dissipate over time, but he’d been wrong. The minute she’d stepped through the office door last week it had slammed against his chest with the same force that it had the first time they’d met.
As for how to handle his feelings—David had no idea. All he knew was that they were irrational, inappropriate and unsettling. Not to mention guilt-inducing. Caroline had loved Michael. She still did, if her reactions last week were any indication. And he couldn’t intrude on his brother’s turf. It hadn’t felt right two and a half years ago, and it didn’t feel right now. Even if the lady was willing or interested. And Caroline didn’t fall into either of those categories. So his best plan was to make the call, ask for the favor and forget about her.
But considering the way his feelings had returned with such intensity after a two-year gap in contact, he suspected that plan was destined for failure.
“I have David Sloan on line three for you. Do you want to take the call?”
Caroline’s hand jerked, making her pen squiggle across the copy she was editing. With dismay, she eyed the erratic red line sprawled across the typed page. So much for her usual neat, legible edits.
Why was David calling her? When he’d walked out the door last week, she’d been convinced that she’d never hear from him again. There had been a sense of finality about his visit, of closure. Now he was back. And she wasn’t anxious to talk with him. It had taken her several days after his last visit to rebury the memories and pain it had dredged up. She didn’t want to go through that again.
Still, she was curious. David didn’t strike her as the kind of man who did things without a great deal of thought. Nor without good reason. Whatever the purpose of his call, she assumed it was important.
Shifting the phone on her ear, she laid down her pen and rotated her chair so that her back was toward the newsroom. “Go ahead and put it through, Mary. Thanks.”
A second later, David’s voice came over the line. “Caroline?”
“Yes, hi. I didn’t expect to hear from you again so soon.”
“I didn’t expect to be calling. But we had a discussion earlier this week at the Uplink board meeting about the need for publicity, and I offered to contact you to see if the Chronicle might be interested in running a piece about the organization.”
So this was a business call. She hadn’t expected that, either. But it was much easier to deal with. The knot of tension in her stomach eased.
In journalist mode, she swiveled her chair back toward her desk, reached for a pen and drew a pad of paper toward her. “We’re always looking for good story leads. But I have to confess that I’m not familiar with Uplink.”
“That’s the problem. Not enough people are. And that hampers our ability to fully realize our mission.”
“Which is?”
“We target gifted high school juniors in difficult environments and match them with mentors in participating businesses for summer internships to provide them with a taste of a real-world work environment. We hope the experience gives them not only a stimulating summer job, but an incentive to continue with their education. Then we follow up with ongoing support groups to ensure that we don’t lose them after their internships.”
“You mentioned some of this last week. Sounds worthwhile.”
“We think so. But the organization is only three years old—still a fledgling. There’s a lot more we could do if this really takes off. For that to happen, though, we need to heighten awareness.”
“What sort of article did you have in mind?”
“I’m not sure. One of the board members, Rachel Harris, handles publicity and communication. She can follow up with more information if you’re interested in pursuing this. My role was just to get a foot in the door.”
“All right.” Caroline jotted the woman’s name down, then laid the pen aside. “Have her give me a call. If we can find a good angle, it might make an interesting article.”
“That would be great. We’d appreciate it.”
“Like I said, we’re always looking for good stories. But I have to admit I’m curious about how you became connected with the group. This seems far removed from your previous job.”
The momentary silence on the other end of the line told her he was surprised by the question. And so was she. She hadn’t planned to introduce anything personal to their conversation. The comment had just popped out.
Despite his initial reaction, however, David’s tone was conversational when he responded. “It is. I’d been doing a lot of soul-searching for the past few years, and I began to feel a need to do something with my life that had more purpose than just making a lot of money.”
A melancholy smile whispered at the corners of her mouth. “Michael used to say almost exactly the same thing.”
Her comment startled him. No one had ever compared him to his brother before. It made him feel good, and odd at the same time. “I guess that’s true,” he acknowledged. “But my impetus was different. It grew out of long conversations with God.”
“You’re right. Michael was driven by a deep sense of ethics versus faith, and by a desire to help improve the human race.”
“I guess our goal was the same, then. Just not the motivation.”
“Well…I wish you luck with the job. It sounds like good work. I’ll be expecting Rachel’s call.”
“Great. We appreciate anything you can do. Take care.”
The line went dead, and Caroline put the phone back in its holder. She still wasn’t sure why she’d asked about his new job. It had moved them out of a safe topic and into touchy personal territory. Maybe it had just been her professional curiosity kicking in. Since asking questions was part of her job, it made sense that she would delve a little deeper with David. Didn’t it?
The answer came to her in a flash. No. If she’d wanted to avoid personal discussion, if she’d wanted to get off the phone as fast as possible, she’d have ended the conversation instead of detouring to a more personal line of questioning.
Okay, so much for her first theory. She tried another one on for size. Maybe contact with David made her feel, in some way, connected with Michael. As if, through David, Michael was still somehow part of her life in a tangible way. She and David were the only ones who had really known, and loved, the man she’d planned to marry. Her mother was a great sounding board, and she’d listened with infinite patience when Caroline had reached the stage of grief where she could talk about her fiancé, and share some of her memories. But her mother had no firsthand knowledge of him beyond that brief Christmas visit to both families.
David, on the other hand, had years’ worth of memories of Michael. Ones that Caroline didn’t have. His bond to the prize-winning photojournalist was as strong as hers, in a different way. Maybe, on some subconscious level, she wanted to tap into them. To supplement her own memories of the man she’d loved, who had talked of his past only on rare occasions.