Her Kind of Hero Page 3

  He stood by the door, waiting while she picked up her briefcase. Then she abruptly sat again, placed the case on the desk and opened it up. Matt watched her skim through partitions, and when she withdrew a checkbook, his suspicion about what she was doing was confirmed. Well, hadn’t she told Kristen her interest in the center was focused on funding? Wasn’t this a good thing?

  But the emotion flowing through him didn’t feel good, especially when she turned around and said, “This is the least I can do. To thank you for that day.” She held the check out as he walked past her to his own chair.

  The figures blurred for a second as he looked at the check. The amount would easily cover the cost of the new sleeping cabin at Camp Hope. He glanced up, noticing the small but tight smile on her otherwise impassive face and felt his cheeks heat up. His hand trembled and he set the check down while clenching his other hand into a fist. He waited until he could speak without raising his voice and in that pause saw confusion cross her face. For some reason, that pleased him.

  “First, thank you for such generosity.” He tapped his index finger on the check before sliding it across the desk back to her.

  She frowned but said nothing.

  “But I can’t accept that, because saving your life twenty years ago had nothing to do with reward or compensation. It was a spontaneous, impulsive act on my part. Anyone would have done the same thing.”

  She shook her head. “Not true. None of those kids even tried to stop what was happening before I fell onto the tracks.”

  “I’m sorry for that,” Matt said, “but from what I see, the incident hasn’t stopped you from making a success of your life.”

  At that, she flushed. Biting her lower lip, she looked down into her lap. The reaction startled him. Had he hit a nerve?

  Later, he would tell himself that this was the moment his bizarre idea came to mind.

  When she finally spoke, his idea solidified. “Then take it as a donation to a good cause. It’s a win for both of us. You get some funding and I get a tax deduction.” She flashed a smile.

  The triumph in her voice irked. As much as he appreciated donations from people or companies, Matt had always felt a prickle of resentment at the ease of dismissing society’s troubles with a check. There were thousands of selfless, hardworking volunteers in the city who gave their time without the need for recognition. And while any community agency needed both volunteers and donors, the realization that the sad, scared teenager he’d hoisted off the tracks years ago came from the group he’d never felt comfortable around was disappointing. So Matt stuck with his game plan.

  “I have another idea,” he began, “one that could end up being win-win but in a different way.”

  “Oh?”

  Matt smiled. He would see how long that interest lasted. “Later this month we’re opening up Camp Hope for another season. It’s a project we got funding for two years ago, a camp near Maple Lake, outside Willow Springs.” Her puzzled expression told him she hadn’t a clue about either of those places. “Last year we ran it as a day camp, busing kids from here to experience a bit of nature and life outside the city. The kids loved it so much we decided to try running a sleepover camp this year. There was already one sleeping cabin on the property and we had enough money to renovate it last fall. We’re in the process of building a second cabin, which should be finished soon.” He didn’t add that her check would have paid off the loan for that cabin.

  “Okay,” she said, clearly unsure where he was heading.

  “The place won’t start up officially until late June but we’re hoping to iron out any kinks in the schedule and planning by opening a few weekends beforehand. The first batch of kids is due the last weekend of this month.”

  “Well, good luck with all that.” She glanced pointedly at the check in 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, Dad, but no. I’m thinking more of a...a road trip. Just setting out and stopping here and there at little out-of-the-way places.”

  He shook his head. “I’m not liking the sound of that. At least—”

  “I’ve decided, Dad.” She fixed her eyes on his, and at his slight frown, followed by an audible sigh, Dana knew she’d successfully avoided finishing up the Mega Corps buyout. He left the room without another pitch and she let out a long, slow breath.

  Later, she’d look back at this moment and question not only her reasoning but her emotional state. But for now, Dana knew there was one way to get out of town.

  CHAPTER THREE

  MATT WAS GETTING into his car when Rosie called out, “You forgot your stew!”

  He’d forgotten on purpose, knowing he still had a container of pasta in the fridge from three days ago. He’d given up trying to get Esperanza to stop sending food home with him. He knew it was an act of love—and also that she still thought of him as the struggling college student, as he’d been after his discharge from the army.

  “You can’t fool me as easily as you can Ma,” she said when he joined her on the porch and took the Tupperware from her.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Yeah, right.” She playfully punched his upper arm. As he turned to go, she added, “I noticed at dinner that you seemed distracted. Have you been thinking about her?”

  “Her?”

  “Mom. Who did you think I was talking about?”

  Matt was tempted to say Dana Sothern, the woman who had been in his head for the past week. But he’d never told anyone about that day, not even his family. At the time, it would have involved unwanted questioning. What were you doing there, on the Green Line? Why weren’t you at your after-school job? Later, the day simply became something he wanted to put behind him.

  “Mom, of course. When’s her next appointment with the oncologist again?”

  “Next Monday.”

  A week away. “I’ll come, too.”

  “She doesn’t expect you to. She knows you’re busy organizing the first group of kids for the camp this weekend.”

  “I’m coming.” Matt knew she wouldn’t argue too much. She was aware that her big brother never changed his mind once it was made up.

  “Okay,” she finally said. “See you maybe later in the week. If not, for sure next Monday.” Then she clutched his arm as he started to go. “Matt, I meant it when I said I’d like to do a few sessions with the kids. I’ve been working on an idea and I can email you an outline.”

  At dinner, Rosie had pitched an introduction on internet use and privacy issues as a lead-in, followed by lessons on game development.

  Rosie had been working at a video game start-up for the past three years, since her college graduation. She was good at game development and getting better. She and her team had recently secured a publisher for a game they’d developed that was promising to be a hit. But getting her back and forth to Camp Hope would be problematic if she had a relapse.

  “Just think about it, Matt. Please. I’m in remission now and I feel good.”

  He felt bad at her pleading tone and softened his voice. “I’ll think about it. Maybe we can try having a class at the center first. See what the interest is and how it goes.”

  She pursed her lips and nodded. “Sure,” she mumbled.

  He knew she was disappointed. Rosie had been excited about Camp Hope from the beginning and wanted to be a part of it. “We’ll work something out.”

  He kissed her cheek and headed for his car. By the time he was behind the wheel, she’d already gone back inside. He let the car idle for a while, thinking about the opening of Camp Hope the coming Saturday, Rosie’s plea to help out and most of all, his mother’s next appointment, when her doctor would outline a treatment plan. Little wonder he’d hardly slept the past week. Worse, Dana Sothern’s face kept popping into his head at random moments. He had serious problems to worry about, so why was he so preoccupied with a woman he’d likely never see again?

  Thoughts of Dana reminded him of her check. It would cover some of the shortfall and if she could casually dash off an amount like that, she clearly had means. Of course, there was his challenge to her—one he regretted now. He’d made it out of pride, resenting her self-satisfied expression when she’d passed the donation across hi
s desk. He should have just taken that money. Now he would have to swallow some of that pride and deposit that check.

  He shifted into gear and headed home. His apartment was a few blocks away from the center. He’d taken the rental months after opening KidsFirst, figuring he ought to live in the same area as the kids he served. The move had been a return to his old stomping grounds on the South Side where his family had lived until he was ten. Matt knew now that his parents had been worried about negative influences in the neighborhood, so he had found an apartment in Pilsen, which had been gentrifying. But Matt and his buddies from the South Side had stayed friends—the good ones, like Sandro, and the not so good, like Lenny.

  Matt tucked the ugly memory away. The elevator was out of order again and he was grateful for the walk up to the sixth floor after the big meal at his mother’s. He stowed the stew next to the pasta and checked his voice mail. His mother had set ground rules about cell phone use at meals long ago, but he’d automatically reached for it enough times during supper to draw snorted laughter from Rosie and frowns from Esperanza.

  First, there was Sandro, confirming the delivery of the bunk beds and linens the next day. I’ll meet you at the camp at about ten. Got an appointment in the city. But the delivery guys will move the stuff into the cabins, so you won’t have to bother about that. Oh, and the window people are coming back day after tomorrow to fix the screens in the old cabin. They’re coming in the morning and I can be there, but you have a meeting in the afternoon with the kitchen staff. The cook’s got her menus all worked out.

  Matt saved the message, knowing he’d have to replay it later for his notes.

  Kristen was next, telling him the center’s new youth worker could start on Wednesday. And just a reminder of the board meeting Thursday night. Bad timing, I know, coming before the first weekend at the camp. But you need to be there.

  This month’s board meeting was a big one, as they’d be discussing not only the budget cut from the city but the presentation to the Willow Springs town council regarding the lease.