might say that," he said
dryly. "That's why I came prepared." He disappeared into the outer
office. When he returned a few seconds later, he was carrying a
small paper sack. " Voila !" He held it up with a smile.
"Lunch is served." Pulling out two plastic-wrapped sandwiches, he
asked, "Ham or turkey?"
"Ham." She relented with a faint smile. She
couldn't find it in herself to argue with him, especially since the
sandwich he handed her looked rather good, and it tasted even
better.
Matt pulled a chair up to her desk. "Well,
here we are again," he commented lightly. "Alone at last. Shall we
call Blair Andrews to take notes this time?"
"And ruin a perfectly good lunch? Please,
show a little mercy!"
There it was again. That spark of humor that
so entranced him. Matt shared in her amusement then grew more
serious. "Did her column this morning really bother you that
much?"
Angie sighed. "It did," she admitted, "but to
tell you the truth...well, it doesn't anymore." She paused. "I
guess I'm just a little on the sensitive side when it comes to
publicity, especially when Blair Andrews is the author," she
confided with a soft laugh.
Matt shrugged and carefully unwrapped the
other half of his sandwich. Her statement was more telling than she
knew, and he was just beginning to understand that Angie Hall was
an intensely private person. Was it because her job sometimes
placed her under scrutiny from the public? Somehow he didn't think
so.
There was much that he wanted to discover
about her, but he knew that he would have to take things slowly
with her. Deliberately he changed the subject.
"What was it you wanted to see me about?" He
pared a slice of tart green apple and offered it to her.
She took it, munching thoughtfully for a
moment. "You're aware of the problem we're having regarding city
hall? Whether to rebuild completely or renovate instead?"
"Rumors abound in these hallowed halls," he
remarked dryly. "And I heard you mention it at your press
conference last week."
Angie nodded. The press conference and the
ensuing exchange in this very office with this very man weren't
something she cared to rehash. She went on quickly, "The
committee's recommendation is in, and they feel renovation is the
better approach. I tend to agree."
Matt looked rather puzzled.
"It's not something that's wholly up to me.
The council has to vote on it," she explained. "And while the cost
differential between the two is certainly there, I've made a
proposal regarding the expenditure of the excess funds."
"Oh, yes." Matt tipped his head to the side.
"Some kind of social program, isn't it?"
"Partially. We'd also like to expand the
transit system." Rising, Angie moved to look out at the small
square of lawn below her window. "As for the other, that's where
you come in, Matt." His name slipped so easily off her tongue. She
went on, "Westridge has a city-operated center for senior citizens,
and we cooperate with the county in coordinating programs for
juvenile delinquents." Her next words came with far more
difficulty. "I was thinking in terms of some type of women's
center, something that offers temporary shelter to women who need
it, with counseling perhaps for rape victims and..." She faltered
and suddenly became aware that her skin was clammy, her hands
gripped tightly together.
"And assault victims, battered wives, that
type of thing?"
Angie's heart gave a betraying lurch, but she
swallowed and tried for an even tone. She even managed to turn and
face him. "What do you think, Matt? Is there a need here in
Westridge for something like that?"
"It's a crime that there isn't one already.
We hear so much about victim's rights and restitution these days
that I just assumed..." He looked up at her, his expression grim.
"A lot of rapes and cases of abuse are never prosecuted because
they're never reported. The ongoing support of a crisis center can
sometimes change that." He shook his head disbelievingly. "I don't
see how Westridge has managed without
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