Lessons from the Heart. Dorothy Clark
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David’s lips curved upward.
Erin stiffened. “You find that amusing?”
He shook his head. “No. I find that disturbing. But I also find myself admiring your wrath on behalf of the center’s clients and those sparks of anger flashing in your dark green eyes.” His gaze locked on hers. “You really are passionate about this problem.”
Thankfully, the server chose that moment to bring their drinks, because Erin couldn’t speak. Her numb-struck mind couldn’t think of an adequate reply. It had stalled on the fact that David Carlson said he admired her, and the altogether foolish and inappropriate response of her wildly fluttering heart.
Erin frowned at the ringing phone. This was the third call. She was never going to get these papers graded by tomorrow! She dropped her pen and lifted the handset. “Hello?”
“Hi, Boots! Where were you? I tried to get hold of you after work.”
The dilemma she’d been struggling with ever since she’d witnessed Jerry’s infidelity hit Erin full force at the sound of her sister’s voice. She sagged back into her favorite overstuffed chair, burning with the desire to tell Alayne about Jerry’s behavior, and certain it would only widen the chasm in their family if she did. “Sorry, Alayne. I had coffee with David Carlson at that little diner on Oak Street, then grabbed some pizza and went straight to the center. What did you want?” She must know. The receptionist works in the same office!
“Who cares?” Excitement sizzled out of the phone. “You had coffee with David Carlson the reporter? The one who’s on Channel Four News every once in awhile? Way to go, Erin! That guy’s scrumptious! And he’s on his way up, too.” Her older sister’s voice was flooded with admiration. “Not only is he great at his job, but from all I hear, he knows how to play the ‘climbing the social ladder to success’ game with the best of them. So, what’s he like?”
Erin pushed aside her dilemma and focused on the conversation. “He’s intelligent. And polite and charming.” Far too charming! “And funny—in a nice sort of way, nothing off-color or suggestive.”
“He sounds perfect for you. Did he ask you out again?”
Erin let out an exasperated sigh. “He didn’t ask me out this time. It wasn’t a date, Alayne. He just had some questions about the literacy program. He’s going to do a story about the center for his features column. You know, the long column that runs every Saturday.”
“My mistake. Sorry, Boots. I thought maybe you had finally— Never mind. It’s probably just as well it wasn’t a date.” Alayne’s voice took on a protective tone. “David Carlson is a lady-killer for sure. And he’s no—”
Erin winced as her sister chopped off her words. “No what?”
“No…choir boy. Not that I’ve heard anything bad about him, but you’re not used to moving in his circles, you’d be no match for him. Look, I’ve got to go, Boots. We’re at the club and Jerry’s pulling into a parking place. I’ll be in touch. Bye.”
The phone went dead.
“Alayne, you’re so blind!” Erin dropped the handset onto the cushion and surged to her feet. Nothing had changed. Alayne still thought being a Christian made you weak and vulnerable. Well, she would never become involved with a lying, cheating woman chaser like Jerry! And that included David Carlson!
Lady-killer. She could believe that from the way he had handed her that smooth line about “sparks” in her dark-green eyes! Sparks. Hah!
Erin stalked out to the mirror above the chest in the entrance hall, switched on the lamp and studied her reflection. Her eyes were an unusual dark green—almost the color of the leaves on the rhododendron bush by her front walk—but there were no “sparks” in them. That was just a sample of the glib compliments handed out by men to disarm woman. She knew that. So why was she staring in the mirror?
Erin turned away in disgust. No choir boy…you’d be no match for him. That was ridiculous! David Carlson may be the most handsome and charming man she’d ever met, but she didn’t trust him any more than any other man. She’d learned the folly of trusting a man—even seemingly nice, respectable ones—seven years ago. After all, Mr. Gorseman had been one of the best liked teachers in high school.
I’m sure you did the experiment, Erin, but, unfortunately, it’s missing. Meet me in the lab after school and I’ll let you repeat it.
A chill chased down Erin’s spine. How naive and trusting she’d been then. She’d believed Mr. Gorseman’s lie and gone in all innocence to meet him. And if Alayne—who came looking for her—hadn’t heard a noise and looked in the window of the locked and darkened science room to see Mr. Gorseman poised atop her on the lab table, he would have succeeded in his plan to rape her. And she—unconscious from the drug he’d put in the soda he’d given her—would never have known exactly what happened or who did it.
A deep shudder shook her. Erin wrapped her arms about herself and leaned against the chest, waiting for the reaction to pass. If only he’d been found guilty. But he’d lied his way out of it. At the inquiry, he denied her charge and explained her unconscious state by saying she’d been careless in handling the noxious chemicals in the experiment and had been overcome by fumes. He refuted Alayne’s charge by saying she was mistaken and overwrought, that he’d been trying to help Erin when Alayne started beating on the door. And he explained the locked door away by saying she, Erin, had a “crush” on him and must have locked it so they would be alone. It was his lies against their truth—and he was a beloved and respected teacher. All charges had been dropped.
Erin’s hands tightened around her upper arms, digging her fingertips into the soft flesh. It was that experience that had destroyed Alayne’s trust in God and ultimately split their family. It was the reason she, herself, was so wary and distrustful of men that she’d never been able to have a successful relationship.
Erin frowned and walked back into the living room. She didn’t want to be that way. She wanted to fall in love and marry and have children. She’d even dated a few times. But when a man showed interest in becoming close, when he tried to hold her or kiss her, she panicked, her defenses kicked in and she stopped seeing him. She knew it was foolish, but she couldn’t help herself.
Erin sighed, sat down in the chair and picked up her pen to finish grading the papers. Maybe someday she would find a man she could trust and fall in love with, but it wouldn’t be a “lady-killer” like David Carlson. No matter how he made her feel!
David opened the folder, stared down at the phone number he’d scrawled on the inside of the cover then closed it again. Was it too late to call? He checked his watch. It wasn’t quite eleven. He reached for the portable phone, then drew his hand back and walked away from his desk. It didn’t matter what time it was—no time would be the right time to call Erin Kelly.
David scowled and scrubbed his hands through his hair. “Get out of my head, woman! I’m not calling you now or ever!”
He walked over to the window and stared out into the night feeling