The Family Man. Irene Hannon

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СКАЧАТЬ was a good chance to get a feel for everyone’s working style. I’m glad you came over. I wanted to thank you for offering me the job.”

      “It was Heather’s decision.”

      “But not without your stamp of approval, I’m sure.”

      Since she couldn’t refute that, she remained silent.

      Glancing over her shoulder, he lowered his voice. “I hope this isn’t too awkward for you.”

      Jolted by his direct approach, Amy stared at him. But she supposed she shouldn’t be surprised. Bryan never had been one to dance around issues. Put the problem on the table, deal with it and move on. That had always been his philosophy. And still was, it seemed.

      “Not really,” she responded, carefully lifting one shoulder in an indifferent shrug. “Our history is…ancient. A lot of things have happened since then. And we’ve both moved on with our lives.”

      “True.” His gaze flickered to her ringless left hand, which had a death grip on the notebook she was clutching to her chest. “I hear you’ve never gotten married.”

      His unexpected comment threw her for a second, but she made a quick recovery. “No time. Work has been pretty all-consuming.”

      A sardonic smile touched the corners of his mouth. “You always did have more important things to do.”

      That hurt. Especially since he was right. Back in college, when she’d planned to take the publishing world by storm, the only thing on her radar screen had been her career. But her priorities were different now, even if Bryan had no way of knowing that. Or of knowing that her workaholic style was an escape from loneliness.

      Some of her hurt must have been reflected on her face, because Bryan’s expression shifted, as if he was sorry he’d made that comment. But before he could speak, Ethan Danes loped over to them, his camera equipment slung over his shoulder as he juggled two pieces of pizza and a can of soda. Tall and rangy, his sparkling eyes crackling with energy, it was no wonder he’d been the Hamilton Media heartthrob until he’d lost his heart to Heather six months after his arrival at Nashville Living.

      “Have you thought about how you want to illustrate that piece on separation anxiety? Because if you haven’t, I’ve got some ideas.” He took a huge bite of pizza and shifted his cameras into a more comfortable position.

      Amy welcomed the distraction. She didn’t want to venture into personal territory with Bryan. It would be safer to confine their conversations to business. “By all means, tell us,” she encouraged.

      “It’s a column, right? First person?” At Bryan’s nod, he continued. “Okay, how about we take some pictures of you getting your son ready for his first day of school? Maybe giving him breakfast, packing his knapsack, dropping him off? Readers like that personal touch. It puts a face on the issue.”

      Faint furrows appeared on Bryan’s brow. “I’m not sure I want Dylan in the spotlight.”

      “He’ll probably get a kick out of it. Unless you think the whole experience of going to school is stressful enough already.”

      “No. He’s been in day care for years. Kindergarten won’t be much of a problem for either of us. He’s a little nervous about dealing with new people and a new school, but I dealt with the separation anxiety issue a long time ago.”

      The traumatic memory hadn’t faded, however. As if it was yesterday, he recalled how it had just about ripped his heart out to drop his infant son at day care the first few weeks, after all they’d been through together. Born eight weeks early, tipping the scale a whisper above three pounds, Dylan had spent weeks in the neonatal intensive-care unit, much of the time on a ventilator. And it hadn’t been smooth sailing. Twice there had been setbacks, and Bryan had raced to the hospital in the middle of the night. As he’d stood in helpless vigil beside Dylan’s crib during those crises, his heart pounding, his vision blurred with tears, Dylan would look up at him with those huge, solemn brown eyes. Then his son would reach out his tiny hand and grasp Bryan’s finger with a surprisingly strong grip, as if to say, I’m going to make it, Dad. Don’t worry. And he had. But that had been the loneliest, most emotionally wrenching time in Bryan’s life. Not only had he lost the wife he’d loved, but he’d awakened every day to the fear that he would also lose the son she’d died trying to save. So leaving him at day care had been the toughest thing Bryan had ever done.

      “Look, I can come up with something else. No big deal.”

      At the sound of Ethan’s voice, Bryan pulled himself back from the past. Amy’s pensive expression told him that his face had revealed too much. Most of the time, he had his emotions under control. But for some reason he’d slipped up today.

      “No. It’s not a bad idea.” He tried for a casual tone. “And you’re right. Dylan would probably enjoy it. Besides, it might get his mind off the fact that he’s going to be starting a new school and meeting a lot of new people.”

      “What do you think, Amy?”

      Still struggling to get a handle on the pain that had gripped Bryan’s eyes a few seconds before, it took her a moment to switch gears and respond to Ethan’s question. “Um…yeah, I think it’s a good idea.”

      “Do you want to art direct the shoot?”

      She often did that. Ethan was great, but she had a good feel for composition, too, and for important pieces she often went along to provide a second opinion. While the introduction of a new columnist qualified the story as important, she knew Ethan could handle it. At the same time, she was curious to meet the little boy, after the expression she’d just seen on Bryan’s face. Still, if she wanted to remain aloof from Bryan, meeting his son wouldn’t be her smartest move. She needed to think this through. “I’ll check my schedule and let you know. Meanwhile, you two can work out the details. Good to have you on board, Bryan.”

      Her welcome was perfunctory. As was Bryan’s response.

      “Glad to be here.”

      As she turned away and headed toward the door, Heather’s voice stopped her on the threshold.

      “Amy! Don’t you want some pizza?”

      Without breaking stride, Amy tossed a response over her shoulder. “I’m not that hungry. And I have another meeting to go to.”

      Okay, so the meeting wasn’t for two hours, she acknowledged as she strode away. The part about not being hungry was true, though. Her appetite had vanished after her encounter with Bryan. Still, she’d expected the first conversation to be strained. Maybe even traumatic. But it would get easier.

      Wouldn’t it?

      “Adorable” was the only word she could think of to describe Dylan Healey. From her position near the school entrance, Amy watched Bryan and Dylan get out of their car, then wait for Ethan to find a parking spot and join them. As she walked toward them, she studied the little boy. His tousled auburn hair was the same hue as his dad’s, and he looked healthy and robust. Although his backpack, decorated with superhero cartoon figures, was all little boy, his horn-rimmed glasses gave him a studious and grown-up air. When she drew close he turned toward her, and she noted that he had Bryan’s green eyes, as well as an endearing sprinkling of freckles across his nose.

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