Crossroads by Irene Hannon Read Free Book Online Page B

about her was different. Her hair hung loose and free, softly brushing her shoulders. She was wearing makeup—not much, but enough to enhance her already lovely features. And her clothes—gone were the boxy suit and baggy sweater. They’d been replaced by a short-sleeved silkblouse that clung to her curves and a sleek black A-line skirt that emphasized her trim waist and shapely legs. The transformation was stunning.
    The seconds ticked by, and Mitch suddenly realized that he was staring. A hot flush of embarrassment crept up his neck, and he cleared his throat, struggling to recover.
    â€œCome in, make yourself comfortable,” he said, gesturing toward the chairs they’d occupied at their first meeting.
    Tess made her way across the room, well aware of Mitch’s reaction to her new look, though he’d recovered admirably. But while that brief, slightly dazed expression had done wonders for her ego, she suddenly regretted her impulsive purchase of the stylish new outfit. She’d been out of the dating game far too long to remember the rules, she realized in panic. What if Mitch actually…well… did something about that look in his eyes? Like ask her out. What would she do then? Bruce already thought she’d sided with the enemy. She could imagine his reaction if Mitch and she saw each other socially. Her relationship with her son was strained as it was, especially after their long talk this weekend about the new house rules. Good heavens, what had she been thinking? she berated herself. She should have just stuck with her serviceable, if dowdy, wardrobe.
    But as she sat down and turned to Mitch, her doubts and uncertainties melted in the warmth of his eyes.
    â€œI hope you won’t take offense if I say that you look especially nice today,” he said as he sat across from her, intrigued by her becoming blush—a reaction more typical of a schoolgirl than a once-married woman.
    The husky quality in his voice did odd things to her stomach. “No, not at all,” she replied a bit breathlessly.
    He leaned back and propped an ankle on his knee. “Okay. Where do we start? I’m new at this, so you’re going to have to walk me through it step by step.”
    Tess smiled and reached for her notebook. She might not be comfortable in the role of desirable woman, but she was quite comfortable in the role of reporter. “I like to think of an interview as simply a conversation. Except I get to ask most of the questions. Why don’t we start with the award? Tell me what led to it.”
    He did so easily, talking about the innovative intervention programs and one-on-one involvement he encouraged between students, parents, administration and teachers. Under Tess’s astute questioning, he revealed his passionate commitment to the kids, his concern about societal pressures on teens and on the American family, and the satisfaction he found in his work.
    â€œI’m impressed, Mr. Jackson,” she said honestly. “The world could use more people who care so deeply. And I’m also curious. I understand that you were once a police officer—in Chicago, I believe. This is quite a career switch. What prompted you to make the change?”
    Tess sensed his sudden, almost imperceptible withdrawal.
    â€œI saw a lot on the street,” he said carefully, his words slower and more guarded. “Almost always toolate for prevention. I wanted to find a way to intervene earlier. This kind of work seemed to offer that opportunity.”
    Tess’s job had taught her to be attuned to nuances, and there were plenty here. There was something very important that he wasn’t revealing, and she was both curious and intrigued. But pushing usually just made a wary subject back off more. And she didn’t really need to go any deeper for this interview. So, regretfully, she moved on. “What brought you to St. Louis?”
    She could sense his slight easing of