No Turning Back
Page 30
Chapter 19
Jerell's heart leapt into his throat and continued out the top of his head, almost carrying his hat away. "Wonderful! I'm so pleased that you trust me enough to have come out! Would you like to go to eat tonight?"
She nodded wordlessly.
"Excellent; I am famished, and there is a lovely restaurant just ten minutes down this way that serves an excellent pork roast. Would that be acceptable to you?"
Another nod and a quick glance at his face that revealed a small smile on hers. His grin felt like it was splitting his face. What was wrong with him? He hardly knew her! Might do him some good to get to know her, then.
"And how have you been since last we met, Miss Jenfsen?"
"Good. Busy."
Now this was an unusual position for him to find himself in. Most girls would take any opportunity to chatter about their lives, and getting them to allow anyone else to say anything was the trick. How was he going to get anything out of Sylenn? Miss Jenfsen?
She helped. "I didn't tell you before because I wasn't sure how you'd take it, but I work for the Descendants." She flicked a quick glance up at him, gauging his response.
He blinked in surprise. "That-- that's amazing, Miss Jenfsen! May I ask what you do for them?"
She darted glances up at him as she spoke. "I can't tell you much, I hope you understand, but I work a lot in the Parliament building. There's a ... place for them there. I'm also out in the city, running errands. That's what I was doing the other two times we met."
"That does explain quite a bit, Miss Jenfsen. Do not fear; I respect the need for secrecy. I've no desire to pry into the lives of the Descendants."
"Really?" she drawled.
"Ha ha! Well, yes, I am curious, as anyone would be! Particularly about Fulenthen Sonelion, who saved my life. But I know that they have many pressures upon them, and the last thing they need is to have me snooping around their wardrobes! If they have them, that is. But I won't ask."
"That's not a very good attitude for a pressman to have," Sylenn noted as they turned the corner and dodged increased foot traffic.
"Yes, I do hear that from my editors upon occasion. But I don't think that getting a good story means that one need invade the privacy of others. It's one thing to have a person come forward and offer their story, and it's another to need to hear all the details for an investigation of a crime or something like that. Sneaking into someone's home and spying on them is base and cowardly."
"What of those who constantly offer their life stories to you?"
"Ah, you mean the socialites who regularly figure in the gossip pages. I am very happy to leave those columns to other writers. Yes, it would enable me to make invaluable connections with powerful people who could further my career, but at what price, I ask you? Not only would I have to write about events I consider utterly inane, but I would have to be so careful not to offend anyone, and I'd have to make certain I knew who was in public favor and who wasn't, which is something that changes every day!"
"What would you like to write about?"
"I want to write about people who wouldn't ordinarily be written about, events that usually get overlooked. I want to write news that actually matters to people, about things that affect and also about things they can affect. What good is it to tell readers about the latest Sukker attack if we don't also tell them how they can prepare for the next one, how they can help the families affected by the attack, or what else is going on in the city?
"It frustrates me to no end that we paint the attacks in such dire lights and rave about the dress Lady Fravren wore to the President's Ball, but we don't mention the need the widow of the last Drone victim for food and clothing for her children. We print all the ravings of the Pontinf and none of the exhortations of the leaders of the Sacerdotist Church. No-one cares about the other side of the story; only about the most excitable rubbish that gets the readers up in arms, like a tawdry dime novel!"
His passionate speech had carried them down the street and into the foyer of the restaurant. Suddenly realizing where they were, Jerell flushed. "Please excuse me, Miss Jenfsen; I have allowed myself to get carried away. Again."
She chuckled as she allowed him to take her coat. "I don't mind. At least you're honest. Better than most."
Jerell handed her coat and his to the doorman and turned around to reply. The words stuck in his throat when her saw her soft blue dress and tightly curled hair gently styled with a small clip over her left ear. It even appeared that she had some cosmetics on her face. In the low light of the entryway, she was breathtaking.
She ducked her head, but not before he saw the flush bloom on her dusky cheeks.
"I, um, thought I should wear something a little nicer than I normally do," she murmured, clasping her hands nervously.
"Ah. Ah, yes, you do look nice." With that brilliant observation, Jerell dragged his eyes to the maître 'd and requested a table for two.
He managed to let Sylenn talk for a good portion of the meal; it helped that he frequently forgot what he'd been about to say when the candlelight flickered over her face. He cursed himself for six kinds of a fool as he grinned stupidly at her.
Sylenn seemed very tense for most of the meal, but he rather expected that. The little she'd told him of her life would naturally make it difficult to trust anyone, and he was more than flattered that she'd chosen to trust him. As the meal went on, though, she relaxed a bit, even enough to gently tease him. When their waiter came around, however, she would tense again and avoided looking at him. She always stared after him as he left, but any jealously that might have flared up in Jerell's heart quickly died when she looked back at him and smiled.
After the waiter cleared their entrée dishes, earning him a quiet, "Thank you, Bainton," from Sylenn, she looked at her lap for several moments.
"Um, if it's not too much to ask, Mr. Graig, would you mind waiting for me?"
His mouth went dry.
"Um, I mean, I need to take a few moments of ... um, well, to powder my nose." She kept her eyes on her lap. "And I may be several moments. So, I wondered if you would wait for me to come back; we could have dessert, then, if you want any." She finally flicked her gaze up to his.
"Oh! Ah, of course, Miss Jenfsen!" He jumped up and hurried to help her stand. "Dinner needs to settle before dessert, and I don't mind waiting one bit! Take as long as you need!"
He kept grinning as he sat back down. Even as he wondered if she knew where the lavatory was, his smile didn't stop.