Her Kind Of Hero. Janice Carter
front of her.
“Even with the city’s budget cuts, we can make our opening date.” Barely, he added to himself. “But we’re still short manpower.”
“You could hire people.”
Always back to money, Matt thought. No problem there. I’ll just write a check. His laugh was harsh. “Yeah, but the budget won’t cover extra manpower. It’s hard to get volunteers to come for overnights. They have families, too, and a lot of them struggle just like the families of our kids.” She had no idea, he thought, how most people in this city—in this neighborhood—lived.
He noticed from the rising color in her face that she was beginning to clue into what he was about to ask, and she started shaking her head, ever so slightly, while he continued.
“If you really want to pay me back, how about giving Camp Hope some of your time?” The redness in her face egged him on well past his original idea. “How about giving us a few weekends as a volunteer instead...day and night.” He took some pleasure in stressing that last word.
She was momentarily speechless but when she did reply, her voice was strained. “That’s absurd. I have a very demanding job that often requires work on weekends. I can’t just make a promise like that, even if I wanted to. This is the most ridiculous idea I’ve ever heard! I...I...”
Matt wanted to smile at her indignation. Whatever her job was, it obviously paid well. He had known she’d refuse but he hadn’t been able to resist. He also knew some small part of the old Mateo Rodriguez was surfacing. The one that took delight in making people like her uncomfortable.
Still, when she stood up, grabbing her briefcase in one hand and slinging her purse over her shoulder, he was disappointed. She wasn’t up to the challenge he’d given her. Even more, he’d lost any chance at finding out more about her.
She left without another word or a backward glance.
Matt shook his head, unsure if he’d lost or won that round, and stared at the check where she’d left it.
* * *
DANA SIGNED OUT of her online bank account and drummed her fingertips on her desk. It had been a week and he still hadn’t cashed the check. Matt Rodriguez was one stubborn man. And not very grateful either. Wouldn’t someone in his line of work be thrilled to receive a donation like that? Yet he’d seemed offended. How could anyone who depended on handouts have that kind of pride? She didn’t get it.
The meeting she’d thought about off and on for the past twenty years had been a letdown. She’d been naive to think that they’d have some special bond that would magically eliminate the years and differences between them. That day, she’d sensed the person who’d lifted her up off the tracks had been a teenager, too, though a bit older and more physically fit than any of the teen boys she knew. Her memory was likely playing tricks on her though, because she knew that everything had happened far too quickly for her to catch more about him than his strength, and a glimpse of his face and his dark, anxious eyes. Before he’d turned and walked away, those eyes had become reassuring, as if he were saying, Okay, you’re safe now.
But the man she met a week ago had been...well...a man. Her memories of bursting into his office came back like a collage of images, much like her memories of that day. His black T-shirt with KidsFirst imprinted on it, muscled arms colored with tattoos and especially, those inky black eyes filled with surprise at her unexpected entrance. She knew immediately from those eyes that he was the one.
Yet the meeting hadn’t followed the script she’d imagined all those years. She hadn’t expected him to leap up and wrap his arms around her in a welcoming hug. Nor would she have wanted that. But perhaps he might have been a bit more excited to see her? Instead he’d wanted to show her around the shabby, generic place. It had looked like any community center, not that she’d ever been in one.
And he’d been the biggest disappointment. Matt Rodriguez. Refusing to take her check, when the center clearly could have used the money, had stemmed from either pride or stubbornness. Maybe both. She’d left the office feeling she’d been dismissed like a naughty child. It was unlikely she’d ever see him again, but she couldn’t help thinking she’d love the chance to tell him exactly what she’d thought of his cold welcome.
She looked up at the knock on her office door as her father breezed in. “Hi, kiddo! Got a minute?” Without waiting for her answer, he closed the door behind him and perched on the armchair opposite her desk.
“Not really,” she muttered.
He ignored her, as she knew he would. “You’ve heard that Addison is now demanding more money for the deal, based on the latest stock report. I’d like you to handle the next round of negotiations.”
“I’ve handed it over to Ken.”
Brent Sothern waved a dismissive hand. “Come on! You’ve been involved from the get-go.”
“Ken is perfectly competent and able to handle this new round.”
“Harold asked for you. He’s not that keen on Patel.”
Right. Because he’s a man. “I’m too busy, Dad. I’m finishing the paperwork on the Evergreen Health Foods merger.”
“Okay, when you’ve done that. Or at least work with Patel on it,” he pressed.
Dana stared at her tall, silver-haired father and wished, for the umpteenth time, that he’d find a life for himself outside Sothern and Davis. His former partner, Chuck Davis, collapsed on a golf course six months after he’d finally retired and was now in a nursing home. Ann, her father’s longtime companion, had been running a “retire or at least cut back” campaign for a year.
Dana knew from experience he wouldn’t back down until she agreed or at least compromised with him, mostly to his benefit. That was his style and she’d lived with it her whole life, except when she managed to go to college out of state. Even then he’d emailed daily. Brent simply had to have his way.
She refused to drop her gaze, meeting his confident smile and hoping the heat in her face and the tremor in her hands wouldn’t reveal themselves. The telltale signs of childhood and adolescent anxiety emerged whenever she battled with her father. She stood her ground as long as she could and as always, her resolve weakened at his pleading expression.
“I’ve booked some time off and made plans,” she said impulsively. “They can’t be changed. So, Ken will have to work Mega Corps alone.”
“Time off?”
The incredulity in his voice made her smile. But when he asked, “What plans?” she remembered she had none.
Then Matt’s wildly ridiculous suggestion came to her. She stared down at her cell phone, thinking suddenly of that uncashed check and Matt Rodriguez’s smug smile when he’d pitched his absurd volunteering idea. He hadn’t expected her to say yes and probably thought she’d be a complete failure at camp life. Well, she’d prove him wrong.
“Dad, I haven’t had a real vacation in more than a year. I’m owed one and I’m due for one.”
His frown deepened. “Is everything all right?”
Dana smiled. This, too, had always been part of the pattern. She knew his need for control and his overprotective tendency stemmed from love. There’d only been the two of them since her mother’s death. “I’m fine. Just looking forward to a break.”
“How much time off?”
She hesitated, sensing she might win this round after all. “At least two weeks. Maybe more.”
“Where are you going? What are the plans?”
She didn’t need to lie. “Not too sure of the plans yet but I’m thinking the countryside. A change of pace.”
“So go to the chalet. I’ll arrange for it to be opened up.”
“Thanks,