Unforgettable, Linda Barrett [books to read to be successful TXT] 📗

to quit the class.”

“But I needed those three credits to get my degree.” Her voice fell away as the memory played as sharply as if it had happened yesterday. “The essays were all submitted anonymously. The prof picked you to read mine. And when I reached the door—my hand was on the knob— you said I couldn’t leave, that the course was required for graduation. Smarty-pants.” But a shard of pain still stung inside.

“Maybe…just maybe,” Doug slowly began, “it was too soon for you to take that writing course.”

She stared at him then, examining his features, discerning a softness, a compassion that she hadn’t noticed then.

“Who knows?” she replied, her voice low. “That shrink all us kids visited after the accident wanted us to write in a diary. A private journal…” She shrugged. “That class lasted for one semester—the longest ever fifteen weeks in college—but in the end, I handled it.”

She watched him pull out his phone. “You handled that and a lot of other things. Now, can you handle giving me your cell number? Or will I have to call you at work and interrupt you again and again?”

“Fools rush in…” she sang quietly.

His head jerked up. “You won’t be sorry, Jenny. We’ll take it slow.”

Maybe it was the only way to discover once and for all what it was about this man that put other men in the shade. She’d spent five years keeping busier than ten people so as not to miss him. I Will Survive. As the song had reminded her Friday night, she had a lot of love to give. If Doug had frozen her heart, then maybe he was the right one to melt it again or at least help her reach a closure that worked. A final closure. So she’d be able to move on.

“It’s not the speed,” she whispered. “It’s the uncertainty. The trust.” She extended her hand. “Give me your phone.”

##

Trust was a big one. The only one. Doug couldn’t get the word out of his mind all day as he finished setting up his apartment, made and answered phone calls, and once more studied the script for The Sanctuary. Jen had a trust problem with him. Of course, she was wrong. He’d never hurt her. Never. In time, she’d understand that.

Back in the theater on Monday morning, Doug greeted the play’s producer, who had many projects behind him, and the young director, who’d already made a name for herself locally. They wore big smiles, and exuded high energy and anticipation. A great way to start.

“I’m thrilled that you’ve decided to stage this in Boston,” said Lynn, as she shook Doug’s hand and sat down. She glanced at her cohort. “We both are.”

“You won’t be sorry,” added Jake. “Our theater group has won many awards due to our high-quality performances, provided, I might add, at a fair price.”

“Two excellent attributes for a successful playhouse,” said Doug with a smile. “Since I’m on staff at the university this year, I’d say it all worked out.” He held up his well-worn script. “Can we get down to business now?”

Instantly, the conversation ceased, and the analysis began. Doug noted that each of the others’ manuscripts looked as dog-eared as his. Theater was a risky business, and no one wanted to fail.

Three hours went by before Doug’s stomach growled. He looked at his watch and pushed his chair back. “I’m starving.”

But he felt Lynn’s hand on his arm. “Before we break, I just want to say how much I love this play. I love each character. And I love the title. The Sanctuary. It’s perfect.”

“Thanks,” said Doug. “It’s funny how sometimes a title comes hard, but this one…? It whispered to me.”

“It’s a winner all around,” confirmed Jake. “The way I see it, our mission is to cast it properly here, have a good run, and then you can bring it to New York.”

Doug’s stomach tightened. “Let’s take one step at a time.” Sure, Broadway was the goal, but as he’d told Jen, he’d just be a consultant and commute to New York as needed. “We’ll see what happens.”

He watched the other two exchange a quizzical glance. “We’ll see?” asked Lynn. “There’s no ‘we’ll see’ about it. This is a powerful story. It deserves to be on Broadway!”

Doug cocked his head and smiled appreciatively. “Nice to have a fan club, but let’s just say, I’m paying it forward. My first play, The Broken Circle, was produced here when I was a lowly undergrad, and now it’s doing well in New York.” He shook his head. “Sometimes I can hardly believe it myself.”

But his success had come with a price. A vision of Jen filled his mind—Jen in all her moods – thoughtful, with a crinkle in her brow, happy, with a wide, beautiful smile, loving, with a warmth in her eyes and gentle hands caressing his cheek. He’d turned his world upside down because of her, always knew he would after he’d tied up his loose ends in New York. Their story was not yet finished.

##

So much for giving him my cell number. At ten that evening, after a full day of client meetings followed by the training seminar, Jen yawned and prepared for bed. She hadn’t heard from Doug all day, and the flash of disappointment she felt annoyed her.

But just then she heard the whoosh of a text signal. She glanced at her phone and felt herself smile.

R U up?

Big day. Just about to go to bed.

Not yet.

The phone rang. “So how did your busy day go?”

“Hang on. I want to get comfortable.” She leaned back against her pillows before replying. “Actually, my day went very well both personally and professionally. Lisa’s home, and if all goes well, baby Brianna should be home in a few days.”

“That’s really great. A load off your mind—off everyone’s mind—knowing how close your family is.”

His last sentence echoed the past. “Nothing’s changed about that, Doug.” Her voice hardened. “The Delaney-Brennan clan is tight. Always will be. So, if that’s still a problem for you…?”

“Holy Toledo, Jen! Take a breath. Cool it.”

She waited.

He spoke again, his tone calm. “Of course, I know your family’s tight. And I know you all had to be in order to survive. Okay? And now, you’re all grown up, living a grown-up life.”

“Still in Boston.”

She heard his laugh. “So you are. And here I am, back here, too.”

Her muscles relaxed one by one, like a balloon slowly deflating. “I guess so. At least, you seem to be—for now.”

“Count on it, Jenny. I’m not going anywhere. Now, tell me about your great day in the office.”

Okay, he was trying. “Lots of training with more to come. All part of growing my career.”

“So what do you actually do?”

She paused, wondered if he’d get it. “Simply put, I help clients plan for their financial future. You know—the usual. Investment guidance, retirement planning, income strategies, wealth management and even college planning. I’ve got my Series 7 and 63 as well as my insurance licenses. I love doing this.”

A low whistle came through the line. “All that from the girl who computed the family budget and told her big sister how much to spend?”

“Lisa couldn’t even balance a checkbook back then. I figured it out at sixteen. And why do you remember that little factoid?”

“Henny-Penny, there isn’t anything about you that I don’t remember.”

Her breath caught. “Sounds scary.”

“Nope. Sounds like I’m getting your attention.”

Time to change the subject. “And how was your day?”

“Want the good news first, or the bad news?”

“Bad news? Already? You just started. I swear, a career like yours would give me hives.”

“And the stock market doesn’t go up and down?”

“We plan for that. We plan for all the contingencies.”

His quiet laughter came through the phone. “What a big word! Contingencies. Sounds to me that it’s more about control. Sweetheart, no matter how hard you work, you can’t control the world.”

“But I sure as shootin’ can control my world.”

##

It was the way she said it, so seriously, as if she truly had total power, that amused him as he said goodnight. Her tender spot. Her world had exploded years ago but would never do so again—if Jen had anything to say about it.

When his phone rang, he saw Jen’s name and answered quickly.

“Anything wrong?”

“We talked about my job, but you didn’t tell me about your day.”

A soft and sexy voice. No wonder she was a natural jazz singer.

“You’re right. So…”

“Good news first,” she interrupted. “Let me enjoy it before problems rear their nasty heads.”

“Not your problems to solve, kiddo. I’ve got this.”

Silence met his ear. “Jen? Still there?”

“Y-e-s.” She sounded unsure.

“What?”

“Just thinking. You’re right. I don’t have to solve your problems. You’re an adult now, too. With one show on Broadway, and one off-Broadway, you must be earning a living. So, tell me the good news.”

“The producer and director for The Sanctuary love the script, which means they’ll go to hell and back to do it right. Tomorrow, we’re holding our first auditions for the main characters. It’s an exciting time. And I’m betting on Boston not to let me down.” She’d never understand the chance he was taking by leaving New York.

“It won’t. Just like when The Broken Circle was put on in school. It was— was like magic. You almost cried.”

“You were supposed to forget about that!”

“Nah. I could see you were overwhelmed. Awestruck to see your printed words brought to life.” She paused, and he waited. “Doug?”

“Yeah?”

“Is it still like that? Still awesome?”

“Every. Single. Time.”

She spoke softly then. So softly, he strained to hear her. “Then I guess you made the right choice five years ago…and for the right reasons.”

He couldn’t breathe.

“And so did I,” she whispered.