Swept Away. Gwynne Forster

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      Veronica flicked on the television in her office, leaned against her desk and watched Schyler tell the press that his complaints against CPAA and Veronica were not substantiated and reminded them that the case had been thrown out of court. When hours passed and not a single reporter had telephoned to get her reaction to the press conference Schyler had called to exonerate her, she knew the damage to her and the agency exceeded what she’d imagined. She was no longer good news copy, and she said as much to her deputy.

      Enid tried without success to camouflage her disheartened mood. “When a man drops an egg, he thinks his only problem is cleaning up the mess. Does he stop to deal with the fact that there is no longer an egg?”

      It surprised her that she didn’t want to hear him vilified. “Don’t you think he tried to repair the damage?”

      Enid sucked air through her teeth hard and long. “Not in my opinion. He should have come right out and said he made a mistake in bringing the charges, that he was wrong and next time he’d see to it that his assistants did a better job of getting the facts.”

      Visions of his eyes glistening with heat for her flashed through Veronica’s mind, and she remembered his words: “You were right there with me.” He’d wanted her and hadn’t tried to hide it, and he had known that she reciprocated what he felt.

      Veronica leaned back in her chair, folded her hands behind her head, crossed her knees and pondered Enid’s attack on Schyler. She thought for a few minutes before answering. “You’re forgetting that the girl was missing, he didn’t know where she was and, when she surfaced on a charge of stealing food she was a shell of her former self. His crime was in caring too much.”

      Enid rolled her eyes skyward, crossed and uncrossed her ankles. “If you say so. I don’t know what we’re going to do, though. Fund-raising’s going to be a problem.”

      “Don’t worry. I’ll think of something. Right now, I need a change of scenery.”

      Chapter 2

      At home later that day, she walked around her elegant town house. She picked up a paperweight and stared at it. For the past five years she’d done nothing but work. CPAA had been her whole world. She thought of what she’d done with her life and what she hadn’t done. As a child, she’d had such promise, gifted in music and art. But she’d chosen the safe way, a career that would enable her to make a good living and help her parents. She’d done that. Renovated their home, refurnished it and eased their lives. But her dreams were still that, dreams. She’d never swum in the Pacific; stood before the Taj Mahal; skied on a mountain top; gazed at the Mona Lisa; flirted with a handsome Egyptian; and she’d never sung Billie Holiday songs in a jazz club.

      She might have made a difference in the lives of a few people, but in the world? Not at all. And what could she show for her thirty-two years? A busted career. And the misfortune to have met, in a battle that had ruined her, the one man who had made her fantasize about love in his arms. A picture of herself in her high school cap and gown mocked her from the top of her piano. Oh, what hope and what naiveté. She’d had the world on a string then. But a decade and a half later, she still didn’t have the nest, children and love that she craved, and she’d lived a life of adventure only in her dreams.

      Her thoughts went back to her childhood, filled with love and her parents’ caring. But it had encompassed only a few short years. Study and work were about all she had ever known: work for food and clothing; study for the scholarships that would take her to the next level. And when she finally reached the top, staying there had consumed all of her time and energy. She had never known a man’s love, never enjoyed a carefree vacation, never spent hours chatting with friends. She hadn’t lived, only worked and struggled. And what had it brought her? She wanted to taste life, to do the things about which she had always fantasized, and to shed her affected aura of ultraconservatism.

      The next morning she called Enid to her office as soon as she got there. “Sit down and brace yourself. I’m taking leave from the agency. Then I’ll decide whether to remain.”

      Enid’s mouth opened wide in a wordless exclamation of horror, and Veronica could see that she’d shocked the woman.

      “You’re not serious! Veronica, don’t do anything you’ll be sorry for. Wait a few months until all this settles. I know you’ve—”

      “I’ve spent the night thinking about it, and I need to get away from here, at least for a while.”

      Enid leaned forward, her suddenly sallow complexion a testament to her sorrow. “Is it Henderson? I know he’s sorry, and I know he cares about what happened and about you, or he wouldn’t have called that press conference and tried to make amends.”

      Veronica’s heart fluttered wildly. Then, something sprang to life within her, like a jonquil popping through the earth in spring or a song leaping to life in her mind, but she controlled her response to it. “That was gracious of him. Maybe he cares, and maybe guilt drove him to do it. I don’t know, and if I change my plan of action because of him, then what? I wish him well, but today is my last day in this office. I have three months of leave stored up, and I’m taking it. If I decide not to continue working here, I’ll give notice.” She called a staff meeting, locked her desk and left.

      On her way home, she stopped by Jenny’s corner and handed the woman an envelope of bills.

      Jenny peered into the large brown envelope, closed it and looked at Veronica. “You hit the lottery, Ronnie, or is this the last time I ever gon’ see you?”

      A tinge of guilt struggled with the wave of sadness that overtook her. She hadn’t thought of Jenny as a dependent but as someone she helped, a friend, even. Now she understood that the woman depended on her. She looked at Jenny’s shopping cart of things that only she valued and fought back tears. She couldn’t even invite her to a nearby restaurant for a cup of coffee because she wouldn’t be allowed in with her “things.”

      Resigned, she forced a smile. “I’m taking a three-month leave, Jenny. If I get back before that, I’ll drop by to see you. That little change in that envelope ought to keep you until I get back. I’d…I’d better run for my train.”

      Jenny put the envelope in her coat pocket and secured the pocket with two safety pins. “You know I thank you. You know it. I…I hope you finds what you lookin’ for, Ronnie. Somethin’s wrong sure as my name’s Jenny, but you needn’t worry none. Anybody with a heart big as yours is always gonna be blessed. I ain’t even gonna worry ’bout you. Go on now, and get your train.”

      Veronica hesitated, saw the tears in Jenny’s eyes, turned and rushed across the street. Jenny wouldn’t want to be seen crying.

      She spent the next day storing her valuables and securing her house. Then she packed her bags, put them in the foyer, stuffed a few things in a small suitcase and left for her parents’ home in Pickett, North Carolina.

      As she’d expected, her stepfather was not pleased about her plans. “How can you just walk away from what you devoted your entire adult life to? It bothers me seeing you this way, like you don’t care what happens. Stay here with us for a while and get yourself together.”

      “I’m СКАЧАТЬ