Ringing in Love (11 page)

She was about to make a phone call she was not looking forward to when her cell rang.

“I know it's late but I was concerned about you. How'd things go?” Dominic's soothing voice was the best thing she'd heard in the past four hours.

Catherine related the story of what had happened after Jack dropped her off at the scene of the crime.

“I was about to call Tony and tell him what happened before he gets a call from his friend. He'll be furious.”

“Maybe he'll be able to get through to Noah.”

“I hope so.”

She tried to collect her thoughts before she said what might be the hardest thing she'd had to say since she told her mother she was getting a divorce. “It doesn't take a genius to figure out this was triggered by our dinner date tonight. I think we better reconsider going out together for a while.”

There was no response at first, then he said, “Doesn't giving up your personal life get him what he wants with his behavior? Do you think that's wise?”

“I need to put my energy here, with him, right now. Anyway, after tonight I don't trust him home alone.” She laughed for the first time in hours. “I told him I was going to get a babysitter for him if I went out. I think he's envisioning some teenager not much older than he is, which really insulted him. I actually meant I'd ask my mother to help out. I know I shouldn't feel this way, but I was happy he was pissed about it. It was the only reaction I got from him other than the sullen, pouty look teenagers seem to have perfected.”

“They are good at it, aren't they? At least my nieces and nephew are.” She waited for him to say more about her embargo on dates. She wanted him to object, to say he couldn't see how it would help, could only see how much it would hurt them. Instead, he said, “Okay, if that's what you want, I understand. Maybe we could do lunch one day.”

“I can't even think what my schedule looks like right now, but if I can, sure.”

“We can touch base next week and see.”

Do lunch? Touch base?
What happened to “I've wanted you since the first time I saw you?” If he was this easily scared off, had she been wrong about his interest in her? “Sure. We can talk sometime next week. Oh, and I don't think I thanked you for dinner tonight. It was lovely.”

“I'm sorry the evening didn't end better.”

“Me, too.”

If there was one good thing the unsatisfactory phone call with Dominic did, it distracted her enough to make the phone call to her brother a bit easier. Getting back to worrying about Noah helped her paper over her disappointment that Dominic didn't put up a bigger fight about not seeing her.

Tony was surprisingly calm. “Look, I'm not trying to downplay what he did or suggest you let him off the hook. You shouldn't,” he said, “but I can tell you a hell of a lot of kids do stupid things like this once and get straightened out without any further problems.”

“You didn't do anything like this,” Catherine said. “At least I don't remember you did.”

“You wouldn't. You were off doing big-girl things. If you asked Mom …”

“No, please. I don't want to know.”

Tony laughed. “It wasn't stealing, I'll give you that much, although beer was involved. Mom was furious, but Dad was pretty cool about it. She grounded me. He directed me to the basketball program with the PAL. But it does make me somewhat sympathetic with Noah's predicament. I'll talk to him. In fact, how about doing it now?”

“I sent him upstairs. He may be asleep.”

“Wake him up if he is. I think it would be a good idea if we did this tonight.”

Catherine never found out exactly what her brother said to her son; all she knew was when Noah got off the phone, he was considerably less defiant. He even apologized a bit more convincingly about what he'd done. Even if he only did it because his Uncle Tony told him he had to, it made her felt a little better.

Over the next few days, Catherine and Noah hammered out a working arrangement. He would spend his days until school started in her office with his iPad and a willingness to do errands for anyone in the office who asked. She rescinded the babysitter threat. He agreed that, when school started, he'd come directly home at the end of his day without any detours and call her when he got there. She agreed not to say anything to his friends or tell the school what had happened. But soccer and hanging out with his friends were still off the table, at least for now.

The missing piece was the big one—finding a program to help Noah and give him something positive and productive to do in community service as a penance. Catherine followed up on the suggestions she got from her brother, whose years as a cop in Philly made him a good resource. But every program she contacted had waiting lists for those who had not been sent by the juvenile court. Catherine was almost sorry Noah hadn't been arrested, charged, and processed through the system. At least if he had, she might have an easier time getting him into some kind of program.

She found a counselor to talk to them both, which helped her. Noah wasn't too impressed. Although the counselor said her son was more open when he was there alone, Catherine wasn't sure he was truly cooperating.

She and Dominic went back to their original lobby-and-elevator relationship. He seemed okay with it. She wasn't. She now knew how much she enjoyed his company and his sense of humor. She knew how ready she had been to finally fling herself into his arms and his bedroom.

But Noah was her first priority. If having to put Dominic on hold meant he'd write her off as a missed opportunity, there was nothing she could do about it. She hated seeing him in the building with unfamiliar women. So far when it had happened, he'd always introduced the women, making sure she'd known they were business contacts. It was almost as if he'd known what she'd been thinking.

However, she was sure it couldn't last forever.

• • •

It was like being mired in puberty again with a crush on a girl he couldn't have. Dominic saw Catherine at least once a day, sometimes more. He swore he knew when she'd been in the elevator from the lingering scent of her citrusy-sweet, tangy perfume. They had coffee every now and again, grabbed a quick lunch in the deli once. But she was distracted, not quite there when they talked, not the warm, funny, and sensual woman who'd given him hell on the way to the shore and who'd kissed him in the park like she'd wanted more.

He knew Catherine had planned to bring her son to the office every day until school started, so he wasn't surprised to see Noah around the building, toting coffee and bringing boxes back from the print shop. They didn't speak. Well, Noah didn't. He avoided eye contact and never acknowledged Dominic's greetings.

Catherine told him she hadn't found a place for her son in a program for kids in trouble. Until she did, Dominic was sure his chances of seeing her outside work hours were dim. He knew she was right—sorting things out with Noah had to take priority—but understanding it didn't make it any easier to be patient.

The opera gala was coming up soon. He hadn't said anything to remind her of his invitation for the event, afraid if he brought it up, she'd cancel outright. If she hadn't definitely said “no,” he figured he could hold onto the slender hope it might work out. Although he couldn't see how anything was going to change any time soon. The way things were going, he'd be sitting alone in a box at the Academy of Music wondering what it would have been like to have her with him.

He'd put out feelers to everyone he could think of who might know of a program to help Noah, hoping he could find something both Catherine and her son would accept. But in spite of knowing the workings of the city as thoroughly as he understood the mechanics of his car, in spite of having contacts with most of the major players in business, politics, and the non-profit sector, he'd come up dry on a solution to break through this impasse.

Then a board member of a nonprofit, a former client, called. Dominic had already checked out the program for Noah, only to find it had a long waiting list for participants who weren't sent there by the court. But the board had a favor to ask of Dominic, which just might change everything.

There was always one place in the program for a kid recommended by a board or staff member, and the slot had just opened up when a participant had “graduated.” Dominic explained the situation with Noah without naming names but with enough detail to persuade the board member that, with a simple swap of favors, everyone might be able to get what they wanted. The board could get what the program needed. Noah would have a place in the best program in Philly. Catherine would lose the stress from her beautiful face, and Dominic might have her back in his life.

For the first time in weeks, things might be falling into place for all of them. There were only a couple items left to do. Getting a sullen teenager to go along with his plan was first.

Two days later, Dominic saw Noah waiting in the coffee shop, apparently for an order to take upstairs to his mother's office, and took the chance to see if he could get that agreement.

“Noah, you're just the person I wanted to see.” He put his hand on the boy's shoulder as he came up behind him only to have it shaken off.

Noah didn't turn around; instead he continued to face a stunned-looking barista who'd never seen anyone ignore Dominic that way. “Whaddaya want?”

“First, I'd like to see your face so I know you're really listening to me.”

After hesitating for a long moment, Noah complied. “Okay, I'm listening.”

“Thank you. I'd like to talk to you for about five minutes.”

“I'm picking up coffee for some people in Mom's office. I can't.”

“It'll take the barista at least five minutes to make …” He looked to the man making the drinks who held up eight fingers in response to the unspoken question. “Make eight drinks. We have time.”

“They don't want people hanging around here talking.”

“I own the building, Noah. It's fine.”

“Right. I forgot how important you are.”

Nice going, Russo. Exactly the wrong way to approach a sulking teenager. Try again.

“I just need a few minutes, please. How about joining me here?” Dominic indicated the closest table. He sat and invited Noah to do the same. Instead, the boy stood next to the table as if prepared to flee at a moment's notice. “I hear your mom's been looking for a community service program you might like.”

Noah shrugged. “I guess.”

“There's a program I know about. It might be a good match for you.”

There was no response and no glimmer of interest in Noah's eyes.

With nothing to lose at this point, Dominic plowed ahead, undeterred. “It involves working with the adults on staff and a volunteer mentor, an older kid who's also had a scrape or two with authority. The community service part of it's pretty varied—helping coach sports for younger kids, working with environmental groups on river cleanup projects, volunteering in schools. There are lots of different opportunities to—”

“Why do you want to help me?” Noah interrupted. “You don't even know me.”

“I know something about you through your mom. And I know she's been stressed out about finding a good program for you.”

“Then you're not trying to help me, you're trying to impress Mom.” It wasn't a question. It was a statement, a resentful sounding one.

“I want to help both of you.”

“Yeah, right.” Noah all but snorted his disbelief. “Mom's talked to every program in town and can't find an opening. Why would you be any better at it than she's been?”

“This program has been a client of mine in the past. A couple days ago, a member of the board of directors asked me to help with something. I told him I'd swap favors.”

“What'll you have to do for them?”

“I'll help them raise money for the program.”

“Like my mom does sometimes? Are you as good as she is?”

“That's not what I want to talk about right now.”

Noah persisted with his questions, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “Because you aren't? Or because you think you're better? Which one?”

“We're both good at what we do. Now how about we get back to what I was talking about.” He caught Noah's gaze with his, hoping the intensity of what he was about to say was visible. “Look, I know what it's like to get into trouble. How it feels. When I was thirteen, fourteen years old, I messed up and someone helped me. I'm just passing along the help I got.”

“How'd you mess up?” For the first time, Noah showed some sign of interest.

“Fighting.”

“Like arguing with the teacher?”

“No, like beating up on kids. I almost got thrown out of school because of it. But a school counselor got me interested in graphic art and writing. It became more important to me than fighting. So important, it's how I've made my living all my adult life. I'm not saying the same thing'll happen to you, but isn't it worth a shot to see if something could interest you more than getting in trouble?”

By this time, Noah had slid into the chair across the table from Dominic and was leaning forward, the signs of interest on his face now strong. “You really got in trouble fighting? You don't look like the type. No offense, man, but …”

“Noah, can we focus on the main question? I'll arm wrestle you some other time if you want me to prove how strong I am.”

“You'd help me because someone helped you?”

“Yes.”

Noah seemed to be mulling it over in his head, watching Dominic, trying to sort it all out. “Okay, if I decide to let you help, what do I have to do?”

“You don't
have
to do anything. But if you're interested, Google ‘Kid-2-Kid' the ‘two' is the number and …”