often overlooked. Suppose we launched a weekly column featuring interviews with some of the old-timers, starting with Stuart? Do you think it would help the Dispatch stay more in touch with the interests of its subscribers?”
“I don’t know about that, but it would sure please Stuart. He’s always lamenting the lack of enthusiasm younger people have for history.”
“Exactly. Do you think he’d be willing to grant an interview?”
“I don’t see why not. Once he got started talking, the trick would probably be getting a word in edgewise to ask him questions.”
“I know. That’s why I want you to be the one to talk to him and write the first article.”
Dawn choked on his suggestion and covered her mouth with her napkin until she could swallow. “Me?”
“Yes. You’re a natural for the job. You already know him. And your background is in English. It’s perfect.”
She took a sip of her water, hoping to calm the nervous tickle that was threatening to close her throat. A dire conclusion had arisen. “You are firing me.”
Tim shook his head and looked at her as if she were delusional. “No. I’m unfairly doubling your workload. Does that make you feel better?”
Swallowing more water to buy thinking time she realized he was serious. “You want me to do both jobs?”
“Just temporarily. After we run the first articlewe’ll see how it flies. If it’s a success we’ll assign a regular reporter to carry on.”
“Temporarily,” Dawn echoed. “I think I’m beginning to see. You want me to moonlight as a writer.”
“Exactly.”
“What if I’m no good?”
“Editors can fix anything,” Tim assured her. “Just give it your best shot and we’ll go from there. What do you say?”
“I say, I’m nuts to even consider it.” She’d begun to smile slightly. “But it sounds like fun. Okay. I’ll do it. When do you need the article?”
“Is two weeks too soon?” Tim asked.
She arched her eyebrows and rolled her eyes. “How should I know? I’ve never done anything like this before. I have no idea if I’ll need two weeks or two months.”
Chuckling quietly, Tim took another sip of his coffee. “Try to make it sooner than that, will you? When Dad gets back on his feet he may want to take over everything again. I’d like to have my innovations in place and be able to prove they’re working before I get booted out on my ear.”
“He would never do that to you.”
“Why not? He did it to Jeremy—with help from the stress of his illness.” Tim settled back in his chair, both hands wrapped around his nearly empty coffee mug, and stared at it as he spoke. “I know I’m doing a better job managing Hamilton Media than my brother did, but that doesn’t mean Dadwill see it that way. I’ve always had to prove myself to him. I still do.”
Dawn didn’t know what to say. To her relief, Tim swiveled in his chair and redirected his interest, acting ashamed that he’d admitted to having an Achilles’ heel. “Where did that Justine go? We could use refills.”
“I don’t know. I see Betty over by the coffeemakers.”
Tim waved politely, trying to catch the older woman’s eye without success.
“Looks like she’s really distracted this morning,” Dawn remarked. “Something must be bothering her. She’s usually the first one to jump up and make the rounds with a fresh pot.”
Tim pushed away from the table, his cinnamon roll hardly touched. “It doesn’t matter. I’ve had enough coffee, anyway. Take your time finishing. I’ll pay the tab on the way out and meet you back at the office.”
“Don’t you ever relax?”
“Not when there’s work to do.”
“We both came in early today. I think we can afford to take the time to drink a second cup of coffee.” She glimpsed Justine across the room and waved. This time, the silent summons worked. “Here she comes. See? You’ll have your coffee in a sec. Now please, sit down and give me a few pointers on writing a feature
“I don’t know about that, but it would sure please Stuart. He’s always lamenting the lack of enthusiasm younger people have for history.”
“Exactly. Do you think he’d be willing to grant an interview?”
“I don’t see why not. Once he got started talking, the trick would probably be getting a word in edgewise to ask him questions.”
“I know. That’s why I want you to be the one to talk to him and write the first article.”
Dawn choked on his suggestion and covered her mouth with her napkin until she could swallow. “Me?”
“Yes. You’re a natural for the job. You already know him. And your background is in English. It’s perfect.”
She took a sip of her water, hoping to calm the nervous tickle that was threatening to close her throat. A dire conclusion had arisen. “You are firing me.”
Tim shook his head and looked at her as if she were delusional. “No. I’m unfairly doubling your workload. Does that make you feel better?”
Swallowing more water to buy thinking time she realized he was serious. “You want me to do both jobs?”
“Just temporarily. After we run the first articlewe’ll see how it flies. If it’s a success we’ll assign a regular reporter to carry on.”
“Temporarily,” Dawn echoed. “I think I’m beginning to see. You want me to moonlight as a writer.”
“Exactly.”
“What if I’m no good?”
“Editors can fix anything,” Tim assured her. “Just give it your best shot and we’ll go from there. What do you say?”
“I say, I’m nuts to even consider it.” She’d begun to smile slightly. “But it sounds like fun. Okay. I’ll do it. When do you need the article?”
“Is two weeks too soon?” Tim asked.
She arched her eyebrows and rolled her eyes. “How should I know? I’ve never done anything like this before. I have no idea if I’ll need two weeks or two months.”
Chuckling quietly, Tim took another sip of his coffee. “Try to make it sooner than that, will you? When Dad gets back on his feet he may want to take over everything again. I’d like to have my innovations in place and be able to prove they’re working before I get booted out on my ear.”
“He would never do that to you.”
“Why not? He did it to Jeremy—with help from the stress of his illness.” Tim settled back in his chair, both hands wrapped around his nearly empty coffee mug, and stared at it as he spoke. “I know I’m doing a better job managing Hamilton Media than my brother did, but that doesn’t mean Dadwill see it that way. I’ve always had to prove myself to him. I still do.”
Dawn didn’t know what to say. To her relief, Tim swiveled in his chair and redirected his interest, acting ashamed that he’d admitted to having an Achilles’ heel. “Where did that Justine go? We could use refills.”
“I don’t know. I see Betty over by the coffeemakers.”
Tim waved politely, trying to catch the older woman’s eye without success.
“Looks like she’s really distracted this morning,” Dawn remarked. “Something must be bothering her. She’s usually the first one to jump up and make the rounds with a fresh pot.”
Tim pushed away from the table, his cinnamon roll hardly touched. “It doesn’t matter. I’ve had enough coffee, anyway. Take your time finishing. I’ll pay the tab on the way out and meet you back at the office.”
“Don’t you ever relax?”
“Not when there’s work to do.”
“We both came in early today. I think we can afford to take the time to drink a second cup of coffee.” She glimpsed Justine across the room and waved. This time, the silent summons worked. “Here she comes. See? You’ll have your coffee in a sec. Now please, sit down and give me a few pointers on writing a feature
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