stop wanting
to hasten her journey, to spare her some of the hardship she was certain to
endure. But that wasn’t why their paths crossed. He was a messenger, and she
was the recipient. The only thing he could do now was to be there for her when
she needed him.
~~*~~
How was it possible for him to be
that grateful to God for everything he’d been through. Okay, she could see the
part about all the people who loved him. But to be thankful for the hardships
because they helped mold him into the man he is today? That part didn’t make a
lot of sense. It seemed more logical that without them, he’d probably be a
better person. Wouldn’t he?
The more she thought about it, the
less rational it seemed. In fact, it downright confounded her.
By the time she decided to stop
torturing herself to figure it out, she realized Daniel had pulled up in front
of her apartment building. How did he know where she lived? She must have told
him, but she didn’t remember doing so.
He’d asked her a question, but she
hadn’t heard all of it.
“I’m sorry. What was that? I
must’ve been deep in thought.”
He gave a small chuckle. “I asked
if you’d like to help deliver the food boxes tomorrow. I can pick you up at
eight in the morning.”
“Oh. Sure. Eight will be fine.” Her
mind still felt foggy. Was it her imagination, or did he slightly move toward
her as if he had something on his mind—like maybe he wanted to kiss her
goodnight? He probably hadn’t, but with the state she was in at the moment, she
wouldn’t even know if he actually did it or not.
She attempted a grateful smile, but
the air in the car seemed to become heavy and oppressing. Why did she need to
open the door in order to breathe?
Stepping onto the curb, she closed
the car door, and waved at him before he drove off. Did he wave back at her?
She thought he did, but wasn’t sure.
Once inside her apartment—coat hung
on its peg next to the door—her thoughts turned to how selfishly he gave
himself to his charity of choice. It was oddly interesting that he wanted
nothing in return. All he wanted was to give thanks to the Lord for everything?
None of this was computing in her brain. There had to be something that he’d
omitted, some fact he was keeping from her.
There was a way for her to find
out, though.
She made her way across the living
room to the small desk in the corner, turned on her laptop, and went into the
kitchen for a glass of milk while she waited for the computer to boot up.
Within minutes, she accessed her
favorite search engine and entered his name. Literally thousands of articles
were at her fingertips in seconds. She delved into them, seeking out anything
she could find that would explain her confusion.
The very first thing she read threw
her mind into a tailspin. Daniel Trotter was a millionaire! One of the newest real
estate moguls in the city, having made his first million almost four years
earlier. Was that it? The missing piece? If so, where did it fit into the
puzzle?
Almost every newspaper had article
after article extolling his ‘rags to riches’ story. Yes, he’d told her about
the rags part, but neglected to mention the riches. Every detail he’d told her
about—his parents, previous wife, Dylan—was covered, so he hadn’t lied about
any of that.
Wait! Was it possible he was involved
in the national food drive to help boost his image as a caring businessman?
But how could that be when he
seemed so genuine? So what if he failed to mention he was wealthy? What did
that prove? Well, except that maybe he didn’t think it should matter.
Going back through the articles,
she noticed a glaring absence of any mention of his charity work. How was it
feasible that the media didn’t know about this? Maybe Daniel had gone to great
lengths to be sure they hadn’t been informed. But if that was true, then why
would he do that?
All this was beginning to give her
a headache. She shut down the laptop and turned it
to hasten her journey, to spare her some of the hardship she was certain to
endure. But that wasn’t why their paths crossed. He was a messenger, and she
was the recipient. The only thing he could do now was to be there for her when
she needed him.
~~*~~
How was it possible for him to be
that grateful to God for everything he’d been through. Okay, she could see the
part about all the people who loved him. But to be thankful for the hardships
because they helped mold him into the man he is today? That part didn’t make a
lot of sense. It seemed more logical that without them, he’d probably be a
better person. Wouldn’t he?
The more she thought about it, the
less rational it seemed. In fact, it downright confounded her.
By the time she decided to stop
torturing herself to figure it out, she realized Daniel had pulled up in front
of her apartment building. How did he know where she lived? She must have told
him, but she didn’t remember doing so.
He’d asked her a question, but she
hadn’t heard all of it.
“I’m sorry. What was that? I
must’ve been deep in thought.”
He gave a small chuckle. “I asked
if you’d like to help deliver the food boxes tomorrow. I can pick you up at
eight in the morning.”
“Oh. Sure. Eight will be fine.” Her
mind still felt foggy. Was it her imagination, or did he slightly move toward
her as if he had something on his mind—like maybe he wanted to kiss her
goodnight? He probably hadn’t, but with the state she was in at the moment, she
wouldn’t even know if he actually did it or not.
She attempted a grateful smile, but
the air in the car seemed to become heavy and oppressing. Why did she need to
open the door in order to breathe?
Stepping onto the curb, she closed
the car door, and waved at him before he drove off. Did he wave back at her?
She thought he did, but wasn’t sure.
Once inside her apartment—coat hung
on its peg next to the door—her thoughts turned to how selfishly he gave
himself to his charity of choice. It was oddly interesting that he wanted
nothing in return. All he wanted was to give thanks to the Lord for everything?
None of this was computing in her brain. There had to be something that he’d
omitted, some fact he was keeping from her.
There was a way for her to find
out, though.
She made her way across the living
room to the small desk in the corner, turned on her laptop, and went into the
kitchen for a glass of milk while she waited for the computer to boot up.
Within minutes, she accessed her
favorite search engine and entered his name. Literally thousands of articles
were at her fingertips in seconds. She delved into them, seeking out anything
she could find that would explain her confusion.
The very first thing she read threw
her mind into a tailspin. Daniel Trotter was a millionaire! One of the newest real
estate moguls in the city, having made his first million almost four years
earlier. Was that it? The missing piece? If so, where did it fit into the
puzzle?
Almost every newspaper had article
after article extolling his ‘rags to riches’ story. Yes, he’d told her about
the rags part, but neglected to mention the riches. Every detail he’d told her
about—his parents, previous wife, Dylan—was covered, so he hadn’t lied about
any of that.
Wait! Was it possible he was involved
in the national food drive to help boost his image as a caring businessman?
But how could that be when he
seemed so genuine? So what if he failed to mention he was wealthy? What did
that prove? Well, except that maybe he didn’t think it should matter.
Going back through the articles,
she noticed a glaring absence of any mention of his charity work. How was it
feasible that the media didn’t know about this? Maybe Daniel had gone to great
lengths to be sure they hadn’t been informed. But if that was true, then why
would he do that?
All this was beginning to give her
a headache. She shut down the laptop and turned it
Similar Books
