The Family Man. Irene HannonЧитать онлайн книгу.
blow. He’d endured all the loss and disappointment he could take.
As he followed Heather back to the elevator, a sense of defeat and discouragement suddenly weighed down his shoulders. With no other prospects, he did need this job. Although it had been a long time since he’d prayed, a long time since he’d done anything but blame God for taking his wife far too soon, he needed help now. Since he didn’t know where else to turn, he spoke in the silence of his heart.
Lord, You haven’t done me many favors lately. To be honest, I’m not even sure why I’m talking to You now. But I don’t know where else to go for help. I need this job. Or some job. I want to provide for Dylan, to give him the best life I can. But I can’t do that without some source of income. This isn’t the job I would have chosen. I’d prefer to stay far away from the Hamiltons. But I can deal with it—for Dylan’s sake. Please, Lord…just give me the chance. Please.
Chapter Two
Amy raised her mug to her lips and let the hot liquid slide down her throat. She needed something to settle her churning stomach, but so far the coffee wasn’t doing the trick. Nor had she helped the problem by skipping breakfast. Eating hadn’t been an option, though. The mere thought of food had made her queasy.
Under normal circumstances, she’d be worried about feeling ill, considering that she never got sick. But the circumstances were anything but normal. Today, Bryan Healey was joining the staff of Nashville Living. Not as a freelance columnist, but as a full-time employee.
Grimacing, Amy set her cup back on her desk with more force than necessary, sloshing brown liquid onto the polished mahogany surface. Disgusted, she reached for some tissue in her desk drawer and sopped up the mess. If she was this rattled before Bryan even started, how was she going to cope with his presence every day?
As she swiped at the puddle, her thoughts were as dark as the sodden tissue in her hand. In her gut, she felt this was a mistake. Yet, after interviewing all three candidates, it had been clear that Bryan was far and away the best qualified. After much soul searching, Amy had reconciled herself to offering him the freelance job. Then Heather had come to her with the news that one of their most-seasoned feature writers had turned in her resignation because her husband had been transferred. And she’d suggested that they combine that job with the freelance family-columnist position and offer it to Bryan, giving him a much higher income—and benefits.
Heather’s proposal had been logical. And short of admitting to her sister that she found Bryan’s presence disruptive, there had been no alternative but to tell her to extend an offer. Amy’s faint hope that Bryan would turn it down had been quickly dashed when he’d accepted the same day.
The good news was that she wouldn’t have to deal with him one-on-one. Heather would be his boss. The only time their paths would have to cross was at weekly staff meetings—like today. And once they got past the initial awkwardness, things would be fine, she reassured herself. It had just been a shock seeing him the first time. After all, she was an adult. She could cope with this. She ran a magazine, didn’t she? Dealt with dozens of crises every day? The reappearance of an old boyfriend shouldn’t cause too many problems. And if it did, she’d just plunge even more deeply into her work, which had provided a great refuge for her during the past eight years. If some thought she was a workaholic…well, so be it. Keeping busy had always helped her survive when life got crazy. Something it had been doing more and more in recent weeks.
As if to underscore that point, she caught sight of Tim barreling toward her, threading his way through the maze of cubicles that occupied most of the second floor. Tall, with dark, wavy hair and intense eyes, he looked like a man with a mission as he bore down on her. Considering how impeccable he always was about his custom-tailored clothing, the fact that his tie was a bit askew did not bode well. Now what? Amy wondered in dismay.
She didn’t have to wait long to find out. Tim strode into her office, shut the door, planted his fists on his hips and gave her a furious look. “Are you ready for this? Jeremy is leaving town.”
“What?” The shock on her face was echoed in her voice.
“You heard me. He’s going off to find his roots.” Sarcasm dripped off the last word.
“How do you know?”
“Mom called to tell me. He spoke with her last night before taking off for parts unknown.”
Struggling to remain calm, Amy tried for a reasonable tone of voice. “He’s upset, Tim. He’s angry, and he feels betrayed. How would you like to be told that your father isn’t your father? That the man who’s groomed you to be his successor, who you’ve loved with all your heart, isn’t even a blood relative?”
For a second, Tim’s anger dissipated. “Okay, I’ll admit it’s a tough break. But of all times to leave… Dad hasn’t even been out of isolation for that long. It’s still touch-and-go with the transplant, and he’s already worried about Hamilton Media. He doesn’t need any more stress.”
Amy thought about how pale her father looked each night when she stopped at the hospital to visit, his anxiety about the family business apparent as he plied her with questions. He was under more than enough pressure already. “I agree. So let’s not tell him.”
With a frustrated sigh, Tim raked his fingers through his hair. “That’s what Mom said.”
“She’s right.”
“Then who am I supposed to go to if I have a problem with the newspaper? Jeremy’s gone, and I can’t ask Dad without raising suspicion.” All at once, his shoulders slumped and his voice grew disheartened, reminding Amy of the little boy he had once been, always striving to compete with his older brother yet never able to live up to his own lofty standards. “I don’t want to mess things up and disappoint Dad.”
Because they were so much alike, Amy knew how much that admission had cost Tim. Both high achievers, both driven, both perfectionists, both always striving to please their father, neither had ever handled setbacks or failure well. And neither liked to expose any vulnerability, to show any sign of weakness. Through her faith, Amy had discovered that it was okay to admit that she didn’t have all the answers. And she’d found a way to temper her sometimes unrealistic expectations, to cut herself—and others—some slack. Tim hadn’t learned that lesson yet. She prayed that someday he would. In the meantime, he needed a pep talk.
“Things will work out, Tim,” she reassured him in a firm, quiet voice. “You’re smart and you’re conscientious. You’ll make this work. And you know you have the support of the whole family. We’ll help however we can. If we stick together, we’ll get through this. The Hamiltons are made of strong stuff.”
For a few seconds, he stared at her. Then he expelled a slow breath and straightened his shoulders. “Right. Okay. We won’t tell Dad. And I worked on the Dispatch when I was in college. I just need to get up to speed.” His usual confidence was returning with amazing speed. The matter settled, he swung around and headed for Amy’s door. He was almost out when her voice stopped him.
“One more thing.” He turned mid-stride to look at her, one eyebrow raised. “Ease up a little on the staff, okay? They’re starting to duck when you pass by.”
“I haven’t been that bad.”
Rolling her eyes, she shook her head. “Trust me. You’ve been that bad. Poor Dawn was almost in tears the other day. You’ll be looking for another administrative assistant if you don’t change your ways.”
At least that seemed to get his attention. A flicker of panic flashed across his face. “I can’t afford to lose her right now.”
“And I can’t afford to lose anyone. A word to the wise. Try being nice. You remember that word, don’t you? Nice. It goes a long way.”
“I have a business to run. I can’t afford to waste time on niceties right now. We’ll give everyone a bonus at Christmas to thank them for their patience through all this turmoil.”
“You