Chapter 32
After the conference—Chicago, IL/Boston, MA
Daniel thought the post-conference debriefing was over. There had been three hours of meetings yesterday, and he’d written a ten page report detailing everything that had happened—professionally, anyway—in Kansas City. But here he was in Mr. Kincaid’s office, going over it all again.
“Well, Daniel, I had very high expectations for you,” his boss said.
Then he paused; the man had a habit of doing that, making you wait and wonder whether you were about to be praised or chastised.
It was incredibly annoying, but Daniel suspected that was the point.
Some old boss of Mr. Kincaid had probably told him it was best to always keep his employees off balance.
“And you exceeded them. I’m impressed, not just with your results but how you handled the team. ”
“Thank you, sir,” he answered. Daniel expected his team to give him a good evaluation, but it was nice to hear it all the same.
“They made it easy. Everyone did a great job.” Even Edward; as rude as he could sometimes—almost always—be, he’d consistently come through every time he was needed at the conference.
“How did you feel about it—I mean personally. Did you enjoy being Team Lead? Is it something you can see yourself doing again?”
Was that a trick question? He thought he’d been very clear in the debriefings, and in his written reports. “Uh—yes. Like I said, everyone made it easy for me.”
Mr. Kincaid shook his head. “You’re misunderstanding me. I mean you , Daniel Keller. Not your team, not the results— you . Did you like being in charge? Is it something you’d like to do more of?”
“Honestly?” His boss nodded. “I hadn’t thought about that. But—I guess I did enjoy it. I—pardon my language—but I worked my butt off beforehand, and it felt good to see it pay off.”
Mr. Kincaid laughed. “I like that. All you need is a big cigar and a black van, and you sound like Hannibal from The A-Team .”
It took Daniel a moment to get it, but then it clicked. At the end of each episode, he always said, I love it when a plan comes together. “I guess so.” He laughed. “I always liked Knight Rider better, though. I’d much rather have a talking car than an old van.”
“Well, they were a team, too. The old guy in the suit, and the mechanic, I don’t remember her name.
” Daniel resisted the urge to point out their names—Devon and Bonnie.
“The point is, I have another opportunity for you coming up at the end of the year. There’s a big show in December in Minneapolis—God knows who thought that was a good idea.
But it’s an important show. The National Communications and Connectivity Expo .
The job is yours if you want it. You can pick who goes—within reason, of course.
And we’re going to be redesigning our booth, so you’ll be involved in that. What do you think?”
He didn’t need to think at all. “Yes, sir. I’ll do it.”
Except—what if Nora was assigned to cover that show, too?
Nora , July 22
Nora was at her desk, typing away. A shadow fell over her, and she knew who it was, but she did her best to ignore it. If Jack Elliott wanted her attention, he could speak to her like a normal person, rather than looming over her like something from a horror movie.
“Ahem,” Jack said, finally. He actually said the word. Who did that?
“Yes, Mr. Elliott?”
“The boss wants to see you.” She knew he was hoping she’d blubber in fear.
He’d been nothing but hostile to her from the moment she walked in the office Monday morning.
But Nora knew—well, she was pretty sure—she had nothing to fear from Mr. Brooks.
If he was going to fire her, or demote or discipline her some other way, he’d have done it already.
He wouldn’t wait four days, letting her go about her work the whole time.
“Thank you, Mr. Elliott.” She stood up and headed off to Mr. Brooks’ office, making a point of not looking at Jack as she did.
When she got to her boss’ office, he told her to close the door, which he never did.
Maybe she’d been wrong. Maybe Mr. Brooks had been planning to fire her, and the delay was just him working through the paperwork with Human Resources.
He was the kind of man who made sure every “i” was dotted and every “t” was crossed.
If he were going to let someone go, it made perfect sense he’d take four days to make sure it was done by the book.
“You should know Jack has been in here telling me to fire you every day this week. He says it was insubordination, and no matter how good your story is, I can’t permit reporters to go rogue like you did. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this angry.”
Why was he telling her this? It wasn’t surprising; Jack had been cold—beyond cold—to her ever since she got back.
“I’m not sure what to say, Mr. Brooks.”
Her boss didn’t quite smile. “What I’m about to say does not leave this office.
If you ever repeat it, it will be insubordination, and I will fire you.
The reason Jack wants you fired is because he’s jealous.
It’s because he recognizes—as I do—just how good a story you brought back.
And because he knows he would never have had the nerve to do what you did to get it.
Which is why he will never be in my chair, but—one day, several years from now, if you continue to produce excellent work, and create stories where other reporters would not, you may be. ”
It took her a moment to process that. Was he really saying what she thought he was?
“Thank you. I think.”
Now he was smiling properly. “I don’t say any of that to swell your ego.
Just to let you know you’ve taken your first step on the path I hoped you would follow.
But it is only a first step. You’ve raised the bar for yourself, Nora.
I will expect the same quality of work every time from you, and the same good judgment. ”
“I’ll do my best,” she said.
He talked to her a few minutes more, and she did her best to stay engaged with him. But it was difficult; she couldn’t stop thinking about Daniel.
About how, by opening the door towards one day sitting in Mr. Brooks’ chair she’d also maybe closed the door to the man she still loved, forever.
Daniel , August 28 th
Daniel stopped by the bookstore when he got home from work and bought the new issue of Modern Computing.
And now he knew what had happened to Nora.
He couldn’t blame her—a massive opportunity had presented itself, and she’d done the only thing she could have.
He could picture how it had probably happened: she would have been interviewing the Gateway CEO when he got an urgent call to return home to deal with a crisis.
And she’d invited herself along—not thinking about the consequences or the downside, just seeing her big chance and acting in the moment.
And it had paid off. How many reporters got a cover story and twenty-four pages inside the magazine when they’d been working for less than a year? He’d been right when he told her she was going to be a star, but even he didn’t think it would happen this fast.
She wouldn’t have had any way to let him know in the moment, and then came the cell phone mix-up, so when she tried to call him from South Dakota, she was really calling the phone that Thomas had drowned to death.
But she hadn’t tried to contact him since then. She knew where he worked, it would be easy for her to get his phone number, or his email address.
Just as easy as it would be for him to get hers, and he hadn’t contacted her, either.
When he walked into his apartment, the phone was ringing.
Could it be? If she was ever going to call him, this would be the time. He let it ring once more, twice more, before picking it up.
“Hey, Danny.” He collapsed on the couch when he heard his cousin’s voice. He’d never hung up on Bianca before, but he almost did now. It took all his strength to answer her.
“Hi, Bee.”
“Don’t sound so thrilled.” Then there was silence for a moment. “Oh, crap. I’m sorry. You must have thought…”
She knew. Bee always knew. “Yeah. I got the magazine just now, and I guess I got my hopes up when the phone rang.”
“Of course you did. But you know, you could call her , too. Except you two are both too—whatever you are. I’d say neurotic, but I don’t think that really covers it.”
She was right. They both were. If he knew her at all, Nora hadn’t called because she knew there was no way anything could work between them now, and it would hurt too much to keep in touch knowing what they both wanted so badly and couldn’t have.
“What am I supposed to do, Bee? I still love her. I don’t think I can ever not love her.
But she’s there and I’m here, and we’re both—if you read inside, you saw the little sidebar about my company—we’re doing great.
I’m doing great, and you know I never talk about myself like that.
And obviously she’s doing fantastic. This just isn’t—it can’t work now. No matter how much we want it to.”
She was silent for a while. “I don’t know what to tell you, Danny. I think you’re wrong, but it’s easy for me to say that. I’m not in your shoes. I just—I love you, and I want everything for you. You deserve it.”
“I love you too, Bee. Maybe—do you think it would be okay if I thought of it this way? Like it was a reminder, just so we wouldn’t forget what we had, so when the time is right someday, we really will be ready?
” That was wildly optimistic, but maybe he could make himself believe it, if he kept saying it to himself enough times.
She sighed. “Does it hurt any less when you tell yourself that?”
“No.”
“Didn’t think so. But maybe—maybe you’re right anyway. Just know I’m thinking of you, and you can call me anytime you need to, Danny.”
He was pretty sure he’d be taking her up on that.
Nora , the same day
Nora sat on her couch, just staring at the cover of this month’s Modern Computing . Would it be too obnoxious to have it framed and hang it in her living room?
What a stupid question. She never had anybody up to her apartment; there wouldn’t be anybody to call her obnoxious.
Well, except her parents. But Dad would never call her obnoxious—he never had, even though she’d given him a million reasons to back in high school; and the only thing Mom would say about it was that she should have had it enlarged to poster size before she hung it up.
She wondered if Daniel had seen it yet.
Of course he had. He’d been reading the magazine cover to cover every month since college. Even when they were dating, and he was only a sophomore. She could still see it on his dorm room desk—always opened to an article, a pen jammed between the pages.
“It’s really interesting,” he’d said. “And I need to keep up, if I want to work in the field.”
He probably subscribed to it. He might be reading her story right now.
But if he was, why wasn’t her phone ringing? It wouldn’t be hard for him to get her phone number.
No harder than it would be for her to get his. And his phone wasn’t ringing with her on the other end of the line right now, was it?
Maybe he’d never gotten her messages; cell phones could be very flaky.
Maybe it was only today when he saw her cover story that he finally knew where she’d gone.
And maybe he’d made up his mind about her by the time he flew home from Kansas City; that there was no future, no hope.
No reason to risk his heart any more than he already had at the karaoke bar or in his hotel room.
Or, maybe, just maybe, there was a reason they’d been given one night together. Maybe it was just a reminder of their promise on his graduation day. Just enough to make sure they didn’t forget how much they meant to each other, so that, come 2001, they’d both be ready, for real and for good.
And maybe, if she kept telling herself that often enough, it would only take ten or fifteen minutes for her to cry herself to sleep, instead of an hour.