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“The exact opposite, actually,” I say, looking at him as bravely as I can. “And nowyou’rechanging the subject.”
“I never wanted to settle down for the sake of it,” he replies. “I always thought, one day, I’d find the right woman. I’d give her the world. I’d support her during her pregnancy, during childbirth, and after. I’d help with the kids. I’d give them and my wife the life they all deserved, but it never happened for me.”
I’m right here, Jacob.Ican be that woman. It’s probably naïve—and more than a touch insane—to assume he’s speaking about me.
“Do your parents ever nag you for grandkids? Mom drops joking hints sometimes. I don’t think she expects me to get pregnant for years yet, really, though I know she’d support me if I did.”
Unless it was with her boss. Her possible crush.
Jacob grins. For a quick moment, over before it starts, I see him as a boy. I see a hint of what our sons might look like.
“They’ve been on my case about it for years. They had me young, but they’re in their sixties now. They’re healthy, living abroad, but we talk often and, yeah, they want grandkids. They also understand I can’t just find a woman for the sake of it.”
“She’d have to be pretty special to pass your test, huh?”
He says nothing, leaving me to wonder ifIcould ever pass his test. Not that I see this as an audition. Okay, that’s a lie, but it’s how Ishouldfeel, able to caution myself against rushing too far ahead.
“How’s your food?” he asks after a pause.
This time, we both allow the conversation to change shape. We eat, talking about journalism.
“It’s more difficult for you,” Jacob says. “When I started, the emphasis wasn’t onclicksand views as much as it is now. The news cycle was slower, but these days, it’s about attention. Eyeballs. It’s easy for the truth to get lost in the shuffle.”
“I love when you talk about the truth.”
The wordlovehangs in the air between us.
“You’re so passionate about it.”
“I am,” he says, staring deep into my eyes, tempting me to get lost in his. “When I was a kid, there was this man who lived a few doors down. He was like an uncle to me, which is why it rocked our whole community when he was accused of some very nasty stuff.”
I wait, enthralled by my man, knowing I always will be. I wish I could reach past his silver hair and into his thoughts, discover for certain if I’ve imagined the hints he’s been dropping all evening.
“The community slowly started to assume he was guilty. There was no evidence. The police questioned him, then let him go, but stains like that stick.”
I’ve never read this online and never heard about it, but I know what he did.
“You found the truth, didn’t you?” I say. “You chased it day and night. You wouldn’t stop until you proved this man was innocent.”
“This story isn’t public,” he says quietly.
“It doesn’t have to be.”
His lip curves, more of a smile than a smirk. “Yes, I did all that. What really troubled me was the way people will believe a lie. Eager, even, and then the internet exploded. It was when I was starting, of course, but it wasn’t like it is today. I’ll never sacrifice our commitment to the truth.”
“Is that what worries you about the deal?”
He slides his hand across the table again. A shiver of danger touches me, but I ignore it. I hold his hand tightly.
“There’s a lot of money riding on it,” he says, “but I mean this. I’d give away every cent if it was a choice between that and merging with a company that doesn’t care about the truth.”
“Which, if this dog-theft thing is what we think it might be…”
I adore the way he moves his thumb across my knuckles, caressing me as though he can’t help himself.
“Exactly.” He sighs darkly. “We’ll just have to keep chasing.”
After dinner, we walk outside.
