Читать книгу The Family Man - Irene Hannon, Irene Hannon - Страница 10

“I have a résumé for the freelance position that you might find interesting. The writer seems to have a lot of expertise in family issues, just like you wanted.”

Amy Hamilton spared her sister a quick, distracted look, then went back to reviewing the layouts for the next edition of Nashville Living magazine. “I don’t need to see it. You’re the features editor. Just weed through the applicants and find some good people for us to interview.”

Heather tucked a soft wave of long brown hair behind her ear, took a deep breath and stood her ground. “I think you should look at this one.”

Stifling a sigh, Amy prayed for patience—a virtue she sometimes found in short supply. Always driven, always a high achiever, she hated to waste time. As managing editor of Hamilton Media’s popular lifestyle magazine, she didn’t need to be involved in the nitty-gritty of sorting through applications. She trusted Heather to select the best candidates. Maybe more than Heather did, Amy reminded herself. In recent years Amy had come to realize how difficult it had been for Heather to live in the shadow of her successful and popular oldest sister, with the inevitable comparisons—and insecurity—that brought. So more and more she tried to factor that into their relationship, taking extra time to let Heather know that she was appreciated and respected.

“Okay. What have you got?” Amy pushed the layouts aside and gave her sister her full attention.

The rigid line of Heather’s shoulders eased, and she entered the office, handing Amy the résumé as she spoke. “It came from a recruiter. I have a feeling the candidate may not even know it was forwarded to us.”

Planning to give the résumé only a quick perusal before passing it back to Heather, Amy focused on the section delineating the applicant’s experience. Impressive, she noted, as she scanned the credentials. An eight-year stint at a daily paper, most recently doing feature work—much of it family related.

“Sounds promising.” Amy held out the résumé to Heather. “I assume you’re going to call her for an interview?”

“It’s a him.”

A flicker of surprise darted across Amy’s face. She’d just assumed any writer interested in family topics would be a woman. But that was reverse chauvinism, she chided herself. There was no reason a man with the right qualifications couldn’t do this job. She, of all people, should be sensitive to gender stereotypes, considering her ongoing rivalry with her two older brothers, who held the choicest positions in the family business. Still, the magazine job suited her and she harbored no resentment about the distribution of duties. Besides, considering the mess things were in right now at Hamilton Media, she was glad she was out of the line of fire.

“Okay. Him,” Amy corrected herself.

Instead of taking the proffered document, Heather gave her an odd look. “Check out the name.”

Something in her sister’s expression and tone put Amy on alert. Curious, she pulled her arm back and scanned the personal data at the top. It took her only a second to find the name.

Bryan Healey.

The man who had broken her heart.

Several seconds ticked by as Amy stared at the name. As she thought about the earnest, auburn-haired high-school senior who had professed his undying love, and asked her a few months later to be his wife. But much as she’d cared for Bryan, the timing hadn’t been right. She’d had too many things she wanted to do before tying herself down with the obligations of marriage and a family. So she’d asked for time—and space—suggesting that they both date other people before making a permanent commitment. Though he’d agreed in the end—with reluctance—they’d begun to drift apart. And after the time he’d shown up unannounced a few months later on her campus, she hadn’t heard from him again. Memories of that unexpected visit never failed to bring an embarrassed flush to her cheeks. Still, she’d loved Bryan and been confident that when she was ready, he’d be available. That he’d wait for her. But he hadn’t. He’d married someone else. Started a family. Moved away. And left her heart in tatters.

It was one of the few times in Amy’s life when things hadn’t gone her way, and she could still recall with vivid intensity the shock that had rippled through her the spring of her senior year in college when Heather had given her the news of Bryan’s engagement. That initial shock had given way to hurt, then to anger. In the end, she’d written him off, telling herself things were better this way. That he’d been the wrong man for her anyway, and that someday the right one would come along.

Except he never had. At thirty, Amy wasn’t exactly over the hill. But unlike her high school and college years, when she’d had more dates than she could handle, her social life now was pretty bleak. Partly because her job kept her too busy…and partly because Bryan had ruined her for anyone else. The simple fact was that in all the years since they’d parted, she’d never found anyone who could measure up to him.

“So what do you want to do?” Heather prompted, when Amy didn’t respond.

Prodding her brain into action, Amy leaned back in her chair, her casual posture and tone conveying none of her inner turmoil. “What do you think we should do?”

“He’s got all the right qualifications.”

She couldn’t argue with that. But even though she’d gone on with her life, even though their relationship was ancient history, even though she’d learned to accept the fact that Bryan wasn’t the partner God intended for her, it would still be awkward to have him around. “Don’t you have any other strong candidates?”

“None that can match Bryan’s experience. Besides, I think he needs the job.”

“Why?”

“The recruiter sent a cover note. Bryan’s paper in Missouri has been acquired by a syndicate, and they eliminated a lot of the staff writers on August first. So Bryan decided to come home. It can’t be easy for him, Amy. Losing his wife, raising his son alone…he’s had some tough breaks, from everything I’ve heard.”

Amy knew about his wife’s death. She also knew that he had a son. Though the Healeys and the Hamiltons had never traveled in the same social or economic circle, nor shared the same friends, Heather had managed to keep tabs on Bryan. Probably through Betty at the Bakeshoppe, who always had her ear to the ground. Sometimes Amy had wondered if Heather carried a secret torch for Bryan herself. Not anymore, of course. Not since Heather’s fiancé, Nashville Living staff photographer Ethan Danes, had come along and stolen her heart.

When Amy didn’t respond, Heather tilted her head and gave her sister a speculative look. “You don’t still have feelings for him, do you?”

“Of course not.”

The skeptical expression on her sister’s face told Amy that her reply had been too prompt and too vehement. So she decided that offense was the best defense—even if the offense was a weak one. “But I always thought you did.”

The ploy didn’t seem to fool Heather—or ruffle her. “I like Bryan. I always did. Most of your boyfriends treated me like a piece of furniture. Bryan not only noticed me, he always took the time to say a few nice words. He was a genuinely nice guy. But no one compares to Ethan.” Her face softened, and a smile whispered at the corners of her lips before she got back to business. “Anyway, I think we ought to consider him. Under normal circumstances, I would have scheduled an interview without even consulting you. But I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about this.”

Toying with her pen, Amy debated her next move. Heather’s comment about Bryan’s difficulties tugged at her conscience. She supposed she should at least consider interviewing him. After all, when his recruiter told him where the interview was, he’d probably decline, anyway. She would, if the circumstances were reversed. Despite the fact that they’d both moved on with their lives, the history between them would make the situation very awkward. She couldn’t imagine why he’d want to put himself through that kind of stress. But at least, by offering an interview, she’d be able to soothe her conscience with the knowledge that she’d given him the opportunity.

With sudden decision, Amy pulled the layouts back toward her. “Go ahead and set up an interview.”

“Is later this week okay?”

“Fine.”

As Heather left, Amy tried to transfer her attention back to the material in front of her. She’d always been able to switch focus in a heartbeat, to concentrate on the task at hand. For some reason, though, that skill deserted her today. Instead, memories of Bryan kept intruding on her consciousness. And she couldn’t still the nervous flutter in her stomach at the thought that he might accept the invitation to be interviewed.

But that was a remote possibility, she reassured herself. In all probability, he would find the thought of renewing their acquaintance just as uncomfortable as she did. She was pretty sure that nothing would come of the recruiter’s submission. At least, nothing job related.

The effect on her heart was a different story, though. For almost ten years, she’d refused to let thoughts of Bryan disrupt her life. First, by using anger and a sense of righteous indignation. Then by keeping herself so busy she had little time to dwell on the past. Yet their split had nagged at her, deep in the recesses of her heart. Perhaps that had been one of the reasons she’d found her way back to God a couple of years ago, after a long absence. Only then, after much prayer, had she finally made her peace with the rift, accepting that God had other plans for her. But if that was true, why had the conversation with Heather unsettled her? Why did the possibility that her path might again cross Bryan’s rattle her?

Amy didn’t have the answer to those questions. Not that it mattered anyway, she told herself. The odds that Bryan would accept the interview were minuscule, at best. In all likelihood, he’d find a job with a Nashville paper. Considering that he had a young son to raise, he had to be looking for a full-time job, not a part-time freelance position. That alone should eliminate the job at Nashville Living from consideration.

Consoled, Amy went back to work.

“Bryan accepted the interview. He’s scheduled for Thursday at nine o’clock.”

With a startled jerk, Amy turned from her computer screen to stare at Heather, who stood in her office door. “What?”

“Bryan. Nine o’clock Thursday.” Heather gave Amy an intent look. “What’s wrong?”

Amy tried to erase the shock from her face. “Does he know I’ll be involved in the interview?”

“I told the recruiter, and he said he’d pass that along. I assume he did. I have two other candidates, too. One is scheduled for tomorrow morning, one Thursday afternoon. Here are their résumés.” Heather walked in and laid them in Amy’s in basket. “I knew you’d want to review them before the interviews.”

A couple of beats of silence ticked by. “Why don’t you handle the interviews alone this time?”

A quizzical expression flitted across Heather’s face. “You always sit in on interviews for writers.”

Shrugging, Amy turned back to her computer. “This is just a freelance position. I trust you to pick the best person.” Although her comment and actions were designed to end the conversation, she sensed that Heather hadn’t moved. A quick glance over her shoulder confirmed her suspicion. Her sister was still standing on the other side of her desk, hands on hips, frowning. “What?” Amy demanded.

“I thought you said you didn’t still have feelings for Bryan.”

“I don’t.”

“Then how come you don’t want to see him?”

“I didn’t say I didn’t want to see him. I’ve just got a lot on my plate right now. You can handle this.”

“You’ve never missed an interview before.”

Irritated, she glared at Heather. “There’s a first time for everything, okay?”

At the snappish tone in her voice, Heather looked hurt—and surprised. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Taking a deep breath, Amy counted to three. She never lost control. Especially at the office. Even in the most unpleasant circumstances, she made it a point to maintain a professional, even-keeled manner. Sometimes that was difficult in a family business. But she’d never slipped. Until today. “No, I’m the one who’s sorry. But I want you to handle this, okay?”

“Yeah. Sure. I have to get back to work.”

As Heather turned, her stiff posture told Amy that she had some fences to mend with her sister, as well as some explaining to do about her unprofessional—and uncharacteristic—behavior. And she’d take care of it. Just as soon as she figured out a way to explain it to herself.

The reception area at Hamilton Media, which housed the offices for both Nashville Living and the Davis Landing Dispatch—one of the town’s two newspapers—was bright and cheerful, conveying an upbeat mood. Colorful paintings adorned the walls, and large windows allowed the late-summer sunlight to spill into the space, which retained much of the historic charm expected from a building approaching the century mark. Under other circumstances, Bryan would have found the setting pleasant and relaxing. But his nerves were too much on edge to be soothed by anything today.

Ever since he’d agreed to this interview, he’d been besieged by doubts. He had no desire to see Amy Hamilton again. Despite the fact that any feelings he’d had for her had died long ago, thoughts of her still left a bitter taste in his mouth. But he needed a job, and so far nothing else had come up. A part-time freelance slot wasn’t ideal, by any means. That meant no insurance, for one thing. And he had to have insurance. Hard experience had taught him the value of that benefit. COBRA from his previous employer was providing interim coverage, but it was expensive. He needed to hook up with a full-time position that would offer health care coverage at a more reasonable cost—and sooner rather than later. But in the meantime, at least this job would provide some much needed cash. Living with his father would help ease his money problems in the short term, but he didn’t want to wear out their welcome. Even though his dad seemed to be enjoying the company. And even though Dylan wouldn’t mind staying at his grandpa’s house forever.

Thoughts of his son brought a smile to his face. It was hard to believe he’d be starting kindergarten in two weeks. Harder still to believe that Darlene had been gone for five and a half years.

Like the sun disappearing behind a storm cloud, Bryan’s smile faded. All his hopes of creating a warm and loving family had died with his wife. So had his faith. Once strong, it had crumbled in the face of her tragic death, as he’d watched his son struggle for life, as he’d tried to take on the job of both mother and father. Dylan had been the only bright spot in his life these past few years. Protecting him, providing for him, had become his top priority. And only a priority that vital could have compelled him to go on this interview…and face a past he thought he’d left far behind.

“Mr. Healey? You can go up now.”

The querulous voice of Herman Gordon caught Bryan’s attention. The stooped, gray-haired gent and his wife, Louise, had been with Hamilton Media since before Bryan had been born. Long retired from their regular positions, they now served as gatekeepers, presiding over the marble-floored lobby with dignity and unquestionable authority. Despite their advanced years and grandparentlike demeanors, nobody, but nobody, got past the Gordons without an appointment. They were an institution in Davis Landing.

“Right this way, young man.” Herman led Bryan toward the elevator with a sprightly step that belied his age, then waited while Bryan stepped inside the dark-paneled cube that gleamed with polished brass. “Heather Hamilton will meet you on the second floor.”

As Bryan nodded his thanks, the door slid closed. The elevator began to rise…and so did his pulse. In mere minutes he would be face-to-face with Amy—the woman he’d once loved. His grip tightened on the handle of his portfolio, and he tried to take a few deep, calming breaths. But the effort had little effect. The best he could hope for would be to feign a semblance of outward calm despite the sudden churning in his stomach. And it didn’t help that he was on unfamiliar turf—her turf.

Although Bryan and Amy had dated for more than a year, he’d never been past the lobby of the impressive three-story brick building on Main Street that housed the offices of Hamilton Media. Her father, Wallace, hadn’t approved of him, so he’d steered a wide berth around the old man, whose domineering presence had been more than a little intimidating to a nervous teen from the other side of the tracks—or, in this case, from the other side of the river. The physical separation between affluent Davis Landing and blue-collar Hickory Mills might be only as wide as the scenic Cumberland River, but the two sections of town were light-years apart in every other way. Bryan had been keenly aware of that division the few times he’d been in Wallace’s presence. The patriarch of the Hamilton Media dynasty had struck Bryan as invincible, a man who knew what he wanted and didn’t let much stand in his way of getting it.

But he hadn’t been invincible after all, as recent events had demonstrated. According to Bryan’s father, Wallace had been seriously ill with leukemia for some time, and was now coping with the aftereffects of a bone marrow transplant. In addition, the Hamilton family had been rocked with scandal. If the front-page headlines in the Davis Landing Observer—the town’s other daily paper—were to be believed, Jeremy Hamilton, vice president of Hamilton Media, wasn’t Wallace’s son. Since that story had broken, Jeremy had resigned, and the reins of the company had been passed to Tim Hamilton, the next oldest son. Betty at the Bakeshoppe, where Bryan had stopped for a quick cup of coffee before his interview, had told him that news—and also that the youngest Hamilton daughter, Melissa, had run off with her boyfriend. It seemed wealth didn’t insulate people from problems. Even the mighty Hamiltons were vulnerable to scandal and sorrow.

The elevator came to a stop, and the knot in Bryan’s stomach cinched tighter as the door slid open to reveal a slim, attractive woman with huge brown eyes and long russet hair, dressed in a flowing floral skirt and soft knit top. She looked vaguely familiar, but only when she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear in a familiar, nervous gesture did he recognize the beauty before him as Heather Hamilton.

“Heather?”

An anxious smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Guilty.”

Exiting the elevator, he extended his hand. “I almost didn’t recognize you. You’ve grown up.”

Shifting her notebook from one arm to the other, she returned his handshake. “I was nineteen when you left,” she reminded him. “I was already grown up.”

“Okay. Let me rephrase that. You look great.”

“Meaning I didn’t before?”

Her teasing response and the twinkle in her eye couldn’t quite mask the insecure undertone in her voice. Bryan recalled that her self-esteem had never been too high. Thanks in part, he supposed, to living in Amy’s shadow. Her sister had been the golden girl. With her long blond hair, sky-blue eyes, porcelain skin and fabulous figure, it was no wonder that Amy had headed the cheerleading squad and been elected homecoming queen. The fact that she’d excelled at school as well and was the editor of the yearbook made her an even more formidable role model for her younger sisters. But he was glad to see that Heather seemed to have come into her own.

“You always looked great,” Bryan countered.

Grinning, Heather shook her head. “Nice try. But I could never compete on the looks front with…” She pulled herself up short. “Well, let’s just say that my natural assets benefited from a recent makeover courtesy of Nashville Living when our makeover-of-the-month subject left us high and dry at the last minute.”

As they talked, she led him through a sea of cubicles toward an enclosed conference room. Heather took a seat at the head of the long table, and gestured to a chair at a right angle to hers. “Make yourself comfortable. Amy will join us in a moment. Can I get you some coffee?”

“No, thanks. I already indulged at Betty’s Bakeshoppe.” He set his portfolio on the table and pulled out his chair, resisting a strong temptation to reach up and loosen his tie, which seemed to be growing tighter by the second. Suits had never been his attire of choice, and he wore them only on rare occasions.

“We were very impressed with your credentials, Bryan. It sounds like you’ve been busy since you left Davis Landing. How did you end up in Missouri?”

A shadow crossed his face as he took his seat. “My wife grew up there. Since her mother was a widow, and not in the best of health, we decided to stay close after we got married.”

A soft look stole over Heather’s face. “I heard about your wife. I’m so sorry, Bryan.”

“Thank you. It’s been hard. But my son, Dylan, doesn’t give me a chance to sit around feeling sorry for myself. Five-year-olds have more energy than the Hoover Dam and more questions than Barbara Walters.”

Chuckling, Heather leaned back in her chair. “I imagine you have plenty of ideas for a column on family issues.”

A wry grin tugged at the corners of his lips. “I could write a book. Being a single dad has been—”

The words died in his throat as his gaze flickered over Heather’s shoulder. She didn’t even need to turn to know that Amy had arrived. The tense muscles in her shoulders eased and she breathed a sigh of relief. She’d half expected her sister to cancel at the last minute. Despite Amy’s declaration that Bryan didn’t mean anything to her anymore, Heather knew that she’d been shaken by the prospect of his reappearance. She wouldn’t have been surprised to get a message saying that Amy had been called into an emergency meeting with Typhoon Tim—a nickname bestowed on their brother by the staff since he’d taken over the reins at Hamilton Media. True to his Type A personality, he’d made it clear that the company wasn’t going to miss a beat because of the change in command, and he’d been on a whirlwind fact-finding mission to each department, often leaving chaos in his wake. Amy had been called into more meetings in the past four weeks than she’d attended in the past four years, as she’d grumbled to Heather on more than one occasion. So she could have used that as an excuse to cancel out on today’s interview. But to her credit, she’d shown up.

As Amy paused in the doorway, Bryan took his time rising, trying to reconcile the woman ten paces away with the girl he’d once loved. She was just as blonde. Just as stunning. Just as poised and elegant and self-confident as she’d been back in those heady days when they were in love. Or when he’d been in love, he corrected himself. In retrospect, he wasn’t sure her feelings had ever been as strong as his. But he hadn’t been wrong about his assessment of her beauty then. And he wasn’t wrong now.

In high school, Amy had worn her hair long. Now it was shoulder length, curling under slightly on her shoulders and parted a bit to one side. She was just as trim and toned as ever, and her dark teal suit and matching sling-back pumps were fashionable without being trendy. Her slim skirt revealed a discreet length of shapely leg, and the short jacket called attention to her small waist. The self-confidence she’d exhibited in high school had been a mere preview of the powerful presence she now radiated in her executive position. If he thought he detected a slight tremble in her hand, if her smile looked a bit forced, if a flash of pain seemed to dart across her eyes when she looked at him, he chalked it up to the awkwardness of the situation. This wasn’t comfortable for either of them. They had too much history.

While Bryan did his quick assessment, Amy did hers. She’d recognize Bryan anywhere, of course. His distinctive auburn hair and quiet demeanor hadn’t changed. And he still looked as fit and lean as ever. In fact, if anything, he’d grown more attractive with age. Maturity suited him. Made him even more appealing.

An unexpected quiver raced up Amy’s spine, and for a brief second the years melted away as the memory of their first kiss, beside the lake in Sugar Tree Park, flashed vividly across her mind. As if it had been yesterday, she recalled the way his deep green eyes had softened and warmed, inviting her to look into his soul as he searched her face before touching his lips to hers in a tender, almost reverent, kiss. Now, as their gazes met, she wondered if he, too, was remembering the sweet, heady joy of that moment. But it was impossible to tell. His shuttered eyes reflected wariness, and there was a disillusionment in their depths that had never been there before. It seemed that whatever fascination she had once held for him had long since disappeared. She’d expected that, of course. Yet somewhere deep in her heart, it hurt to have that fact confirmed. But that was her problem. And today wasn’t about them, or the past, anyway. It was about business, and tomorrow. A fact she’d do well to remember.

Forcing her lips to maintain their forced smile, she moved into the room and extended her hand. “Hello, Bryan. Welcome.”

“Thank you.” His clasp was firm, sure—and brief.

Taking her seat across from him, Amy turned to Heather. Her sister had gotten her into this, and Amy intended to let her take the lead. “Heather, why don’t you explain the position to Bryan, since it will report to you.”

As Heather spoke, Amy was content to observe. Her sister did a fine job outlining the job, and Bryan asked all the appropriate questions. When Heather finished, Amy suggested that Bryan walk them through his portfolio.

While they reviewed a number of the stories and columns Bryan had written, Amy let Heather ask most of the questions. When they reached the last page, Heather turned to her. “Is there anything else you need to see?”

“No. That should do it.”

“Okay. We’re interviewing three candidates, Bryan. I’m hoping we’ll be able to make a decision by the end of the week. Have you moved back to town yet?”

“Yes. Until I get settled, Dylan and I are living with my dad.” He jotted a number on the tablet in front of him, tore off the sheet and handed it to Heather. “If you have any other questions, don’t hesitate to call.”

After tucking the sheet into her notebook, Heather stood. “We will. Thank you for coming in today.”

Rising, he zipped his portfolio closed and reached out to shake hands with her. “I appreciate the opportunity.” For most of the interview, he’d focused on Heather, looking at Amy only when he couldn’t avoid it. He was well aware that she hadn’t said much, nor asked many questions.

Now, after a brief hesitation, he transferred his attention to the woman who had once stolen his heart, then trampled on it. The quick glimpse of regret in her unguarded eyes jolted him, but it was gone so fast he was sure he’d imagined it. Amy Hamilton had never regretted anything. She’d always been decisive in her choices, wasting no time on second guesses or looking back. He’d admired that confidence years ago, assuming it was a result of being an oldest daughter who had been raised in a life of privilege.

Her poised self-confidence was still very much in evidence as she returned his look. Yet it had changed in some subtle way, he realized. Where once it had been brash and certain, it now seemed tempered by humility. As if she’d learned a few hard lessons along the road of life, had discovered that even the confident sometimes make mistakes. That life itself held no certainties. That all the money and power and prestige in the world couldn’t shield a person from heartache. And the Hamiltons had had plenty of heartache in the past few months.

As he reached out to take the hand she extended, he was tempted for one brief instant to feel sorry for Amy Hamilton. Once upon a time, in the days before life had buffeted him with a succession of harsh blows, back when his faith had been strong, he would have given in to that temptation. But the compassion and charity that had once filled his heart had vanished, leaving an empty void in their place. Just Dylan and his dad, along with his brother and his family, could touch his heart. They were the only ones he let get close. It was safer that way. Caring about others, loving them, led to hurt. As the woman standing across from him well knew. If she cared. Or even remembered.

Not that it mattered, of course. Amy Hamilton meant nothing to him anymore. If he got the job, fine. He would enjoy working with Heather. If he didn’t…well, something else would come along. It had to. Because losing his job had been the final blow. He’d endured all the loss and disappointment he could take.

As he followed Heather back to the elevator, a sense of defeat and discouragement suddenly weighed down his shoulders. With no other prospects, he did need this job. Although it had been a long time since he’d prayed, a long time since he’d done anything but blame God for taking his wife far too soon, he needed help now. Since he didn’t know where else to turn, he spoke in the silence of his heart.

Lord, You haven’t done me many favors lately. To be honest, I’m not even sure why I’m talking to You now. But I don’t know where else to go for help. I need this job. Or some job. I want to provide for Dylan, to give him the best life I can. But I can’t do that without some source of income. This isn’t the job I would have chosen. I’d prefer to stay far away from the Hamiltons. But I can deal with it—for Dylan’s sake. Please, Lord…just give me the chance. Please.