“What, Matt?” Dana prompted, glanced at the time as she fed her notes into the copy machine. Brent was expecting her in five minutes.
There was a second’s pause before he said, “That certain types of kids are coming to the camp who might pose trouble for the locals.”
“That’s ridiculous! Listen, I have to go, but I’ll call you later tonight.”
“Sure. Okay.” His voice sounded disappointed and he clicked off.
Dana stared at her silent phone for a second longer, then swept up her papers from the tray.
An hour later, she was seated with her father at their usual bistro.
“Tell me about this camp,” her father began after the server placed their glasses of wine on the table.
On the way to the bistro around the corner from the office, Dana had told herself not to let him rile her. She owed him that much, after he’d covered for her with Evergreen and Nirvana. Besides, she yearned for a calm, normal conversation with her father. Disagreements would be fine, but no raised hackles.
“Before I do, Dad, I just want to say that I’m sorry I let things go a bit...you know...with Evergreen.”
Brent simply nodded, which was an encouraging sign.
“So, the camp,” she went on. “It’s an offshoot of a drop-in center on the South Side called KidsFirst Place. I’ve told you something about that already. The director of the center—Matt Rodriguez—realized that most of the kids who went there had never been into the country. Some had never even been to any of our major parks.”
“I’m sure,” he said. “And you said this drop-in is city funded?”
“Mostly, with some private sponsors, too.”
“Any corporate ones?”
“Only those that didn’t request advertisement.”
“Is he a proud man, this Matt?”
Good question. She thought for a moment. “Yes, in many ways he is. He’s achieved a lot on his own. And he cares very much for the kids. All of them.” Dana waited while their orders were set down. “The camp’s called Camp Hope, after Matt’s mother, Esperanza. Her name means—”
“Hope. Nice touch.” Brent cut a slice of steak and chewed slowly. “He’s close to his family, then.”
“Very much so. His father died in a workplace accident when Matt was eleven, just after his mother learned she was pregnant.”
Brent’s eyes locked on hers. Dana knew what he was thinking. Someone else who lost a parent at a young age. “His little sister, Rosie, still lives at home with her mother, but Matt has his own place.” She noticed him stop chewing.
He swallowed, took a sip of wine and commented, “You seem to know a lot about his personal life.”
Dana forked some pasta into her mouth, pausing to chew and swallow. “No more than anyone else volunteering or working for him.”
“Uh-huh. Do you realize how your voice rose when you were speaking? And every time you said his name, you flushed.”
She felt the heat rise, proving him right. “You should have gone into criminal law, Dad, so you could watch every tic of every juror.”
He smiled. “Helps when I’m negotiating deals.” There was a brief silence as they ate their meals. Finally, he said, “Look, I’m seeing this camp volunteering differently now, having heard all that. You say you’ve committed to another weekend, this one coming up?”
Dana nodded.
“Fine. Let’s strike an agreement, then.”
“Terms?” she asked.
He laughed aloud. “That’s my daughter!”
“Well?”
“Listen, you finish your time at Camp Hope. I’ll work with Nirvana searching for properties, but I want you in the office this Thursday to help. Deal?”
“Deal,” she said with a sense of relief.
Then he dampened her mood. “This isn’t a concession, Dana. As you know, there’s only one junior partnership coming up and Ken Patel has the lead right now. You’re my daughter but you’re also my employee. Don’t forget that.”
* * *
MATT WAITED WHILE the last board members straggled out the door before turning to Sandro and saying, “That wasn’t too bad.”
“They’re worried.”
“We all are,” Matt snapped. “Look, I don’t mean to sound cranky, as my mom would put it, it’s just that—”
“I know, brother. There’s a lot riding on the drop-in and the camp...a lot of time, work and money invested in it.”
Matt slumped against his chair at the head of the long conference table. “No kidding.”
“So, what now?”
“I like their recommendations. Addressing the news article when we make the presentation is a good idea, especially now that our boys have been exonerated. Stressing how much our kids need the camp and maybe asking one of the kids’ parents to speak for us.”
“Good idea. Get someone from the community up there. Kristen and I can go over our registrations and call a few people.”
“Then there’s Lenny,” Matt said. “The so-called shady character.”
“Bad timing for that councilor to show up at the camp just as Lenny was leaving.”
“For sure. We can’t reveal why Lenny was there but if we have to, we can just say he came as a concerned parent.” Matt’s eyes locked with Sandro’s. “Speaking of Lenny...”
“History now, Mateo.”
The use of his full name by his best friend hurt. Matt knew it was his way of reminding him of their pasts. “I’m sorry, Sandro. I sincerely thought I was doing the right thing.”
Sandro heaved a long sigh. “I know that, believe me. And there’s no going back, so we should drop it and move on.”
“But you’re one of the few people I can trust. Your friendship means too much to me to have this coolness between us. We can’t go back, but can’t we fix what’s here and now?”
“I want to.”
“How? How do we do that?”
“You used the word trust. Maybe start there. Trust I can do my job here. Trust I won’t mess up and if I do, let me fix it. I’m a grown-up, too, bro. And by the way, I’ve got the money I owe and I’ll give it to Maria when I see her.”
Matt waved a dismissive hand. “It’s been taken care of.”
“What? Did you pay it?” Sandro flushed. “See, that’s you trying to fix things for me. Like I said the other day, you’re not my keeper.”
“It...it was expedient. I just wanted to eliminate the shortfall.”
“Yeah, well, I told you I’d pay it back. There was no need for you to do it.” He paused. “And like I said, I’m sorry. It was a lapse in judgment on my part.”
“I know. I’m sorry...again.” How could he explain his worry that the books needed to balance in case the board wanted some numbers? That Maria shouldn’t have to explain the shortfall. That he didn’t want Dana to think ill of his best friend. Yet Sandro was right. He wasn’t his keeper. “Okay, so can we start over? Really fix things now?”
Sandro shrugged. “I’m willing.”
Matt sank back in his chair, relief washing through him. “Then I guess you owe me some money.”
Sandro grinned. “Tomorrow. I’ll close up here. Why don’t you head home?”
“Thanks, buddy.” Matt watched his oldest friend leave the room. When the dampness in his eyes subsided, he gathered his notes from the meeting and was about to turn out the lights when his cell rang.
Dana. He hesitated, thinking back to their phone call that afternoon. She’d sounded distracted, even annoyed. Did he need another emotional upset in his day? But it’s Dana. The one person who can lift you up when you’re down. “Hi,” he said.
“Hi.” There was a second’s pause. “I got home early from dinner with my father and...I was wondering if you wanted to get together. Maybe talk about the board meeting?”
Matt closed his eyes. She’d remembered. “I’d like that.”
“Would you like to come to my place? For a nightcap or coffee? I know it’s out of your way but...”
He cleared the huskiness from his throat before answering, “Yeah. I’d like that.”
He listened to her directions and left KidsFirst feeling better than he had all day.
A few hours later, he was enjoying the view from Dana’s terrace. It was spectacular. Matt stood at the open terrace sliding doors, glad his back was to Dana so she couldn’t see his gaping jaw. He could hear her in the sleek galley kitchen, making him the grilled-cheese sandwich she’d insisted on when she learned he hadn’t eaten anything more than a couple of cookies at the board meeting.
The cool air wafting up from the river canal below was invigorating, blowing away the worry that had plagued him the last few days. He drank from the wineglass he was holding, letting his mind and thoughts slip into the void of the sparkling panorama before him. There’s only this moment, right now, with Dana. I don’t need anything more.
“Here,” she announced, appearing behind him with a plate and her own glass of wine. “Want to eat out? It’s a tad cool but—”
“Yes. This view!”
“Breathtaking, especially at night.” She set the plate on the bistro table and sat down.
“How long have you had this place?” he asked, sitting next to her and picking up a half sandwich. It was crisp, hot and oozing cheese. Exactly what he needed.
“About three years.” She sipped her wine, gazing out over the glass barriers of the terrace.
“It’s beautiful. My sister would love it. The decor, the view.”
“Well, it took me a lot of saving. I refused to let my father help out. No strings and all that,” she added with a slight laugh.
Matt admired that kind of independence. She was a woman of contradictions, wanting to stand on her own but sometimes drawn in by her father’s manipulation and bullying. Or so he inferred from some of her comments. She could be prickly and impatient, chafing to get to the point as she’d demonstrated in the phone call that afternoon. But she was a good listener and not judgmental. She could be blunt in the way that lawyers could be, and dogged. It had been that side of her that had riled him, when she’d discovered Sandro’s IOUs to Maria. One reason, along with his shameful lie to her about Sandro paying it back, that he’d reimbursed the money to the camp account himself.
“More?” she asked, grinning.
He looked at the now-empty plate. “Better not. But it was delicious.”
“One of my few accomplishments in the kitchen, I’m afraid.”
“Hard to make a good grilled cheese.”
“You think?” she laughed. “Now that you’ve been fed, tell me about the meeting. Is there a game plan for the presentation?”
Matt recounted the board’s ideas and when he finished, she said, “I think they have a point. Don’t shy away from the news article, just clarify it. Put it into perspective. I agree having a parent speak on the camp’s behalf is great.” She sipped more of her wine. “Any thoughts of who that might be?”
“Not yet. Sandro’s going through the registration forms for people we know who’d be willing. Some parents might be a bit intimidated by speaking to a council like that.”
“For sure. I have one suggestion. Just a sec.” She got up and retreated into the dark rooms behind. When she returned a few minutes later, she was holding a folded piece of paper. “I found this on my cot yesterday, after the kids left.”
Matt took the note and used the light from his cell phone to read. “Dear Dana, Thank you for the camp. I had so mutch fun and made a friend. Can I com again? Lucy.”
A large heart ended the message. Matt felt his throat swell. This was why he had to ensure the camp continued—for all the kids. To make a difference in their lives.
“This is the one. I’ll call her parents tomorrow.” He reached out and took her hand. “Thanks, Dana.”
“No, thank you, Matt, for giving me the opportunity to...to get a note like that. To be with those kids and learn about them. I can’t explain what the past couple of weeks have meant to me. How they’ve changed me...in small ways perhaps, but the experience has opened my eyes to how I’ve been seeing the world—as if mine was the only viewpoint that counted. And also, to other possibilities that might be out there for me beyond my father’s law firm.”
She wasn’t the only one who’d changed, Matt was thinking, recalling his first impressions of her as a woman who’d considered writing a check sufficient involvement in the work of changing people’s—kids’—lives. He saw something more in her now and he wanted to hold on to this Dana for a long, long time.
He pulled her out of her chair onto his lap. “Let’s focus on one of those possibilities right now,” he murmured, brushing aside a lock of her hair.
She leaned her head back against his arm and her smile told him she knew exactly what possibility he had in mind.
Matt thought about that sweet kiss into the night, along with their parting whispers. The day’s end promised so much more than its beginning and for the first time in years, Matt felt real hope...for himself.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
DANA STOPPED AT her favorite gourmet deli on her way to Camp Hope, choosing a selection of charcuterie items for a picnic. Before Matt left last night, he’d suggested she come and meet Maria, who was returning to work, and go through some of the tasks Dana had completed for the next camp session. Dana wondered if she ought to also explain her bookkeeping system. She thought of Sandro and his scrawled IOUs. Matt had told her Sandro had reimbursed Maria so at least that issue was resolved.
Dana thought of last night and their cuddle under a starry sky. It had been a magical evening and she didn’t intend to break the momentum of this new upswing in her relationship with Matt.
Relationship. The word was far too impersonal to describe the warmth and safety she felt in Matt’s arms. Even those two words didn’t cover it, she thought. What she’d been feeling since last night was more an assuredness, a sense that all would be fine with her and with the world. That she could venture into new territory, chart new endeavors and Matt would be there with her, every step of the way. For the first time in years, she had no plans beyond the weekend.
Maybe her return to work would be a temporary move, she thought. In spite of the lure of a junior partnership—a promotion she’d always dreamed about—the idea and possibility of a complete change in direction for her legal career both excited and scared her.
Dana caught hold of her imagination and reined it in. Who was she kidding? For the past ten years she’d spent part, and sometimes all, of almost every weekend at the office. Was this new idea of personal change just a delusion? Could she really give up all that she’d worked for the past decade? A junior partnership and a career at the firm? Worse still, jeopardize her relationship with her father—the only family she had? Because she suspected more involvement with Camp Hope and less at Sothern and Davis might just do that. She sighed. It was all too overwhelming.
As she drove up the road to the lodge, Dana saw Matt’s car parked next to another.
The utter quiet of the place struck Dana as she walked from the parking area. How different it would be in a few days! In spite of telling her father this was her last volunteer commitment, there was no reason not to help out again. It was only the first week in June and the whole summer was ahead. What else did she have to do with her rare free time? She had no cadre of women friends to hang out with. Sure, there was always shopping or visiting art galleries, but nothing appealed to her as much as being with Matt, even if surrounded by forty preteens.
Matt was with Maria in her office. The two were talking about the last weekend, Dana gathered, hearing the words fire and police as she tapped on the open door. Matt got up and, placing one arm casually across Dana�
�s shoulders, introduced her to Maria, who stood up to shake her hand.
“How’s your son?” Dana asked as she set her bags on the floor.
“All recovered, thanks. And I want to thank you for coming in for me,” Maria said. “It meant a lot, not having to worry about getting things ready for the first camp sessions and look after Donny at the same time.” She gestured to a cookie tin on the desk. “I brought you some brownies as a thank-you. I hope you can eat gluten.”
“How thoughtful, and yes, no problems eating gluten or chocolate. Thank you!”
“Okay, I have some work to do,” Matt said. “Dana, why don’t you show Maria what you’ve done in her absence and then come see me when you’re finished?”
“He’s such a nice man,” Maria said after Matt left.
“He is.” The two women smiled at one another. “How long have you been working for him?” Dana asked.
“Since the camp got underway, but it’s a part-time contract so I actually only worked from spring through the summer last year. But it’s perfect for me. Two days a week in the spring and three once the camp is running full-time all summer. The hours are flexible, too, and Matt is so understanding about taking time now and then if Donny needs me.”
Dana liked Maria instantly, but her head was spinning by the time they sat down to go through what she’d organized for the coming weekend. Then came the accounts. Maria pulled out her folder of receipts and opened her computer file so that Dana could point out the entries for the payments she’d processed. Dana kept her eyes on the receipts while Maria was sorting through them, but she didn’t spot any yellow Post-its. She wondered how the reimbursed two hundred dollars from the IOUs would be entered if there were no corresponding receipts, but hesitated to ask Maria. If she brought it up, would it jeopardize her new relationship with Matt? But she was too curious not to ask.
“I had a small question when I was correlating petty cash payments to receipts,” she said.
Her Kind of Hero Page 17
