I dreamed I heard the phone ringing. When Peter knocked on the door and woke me up with the phone in his hand, I realized it wasn't a dream. "It's for you," he said. He sounded mildly annoyed. He had seemed that way ever since my birthday, when I had reacted so strangely after receiving the necklace. I told him I loved it, and I did. I wore it every day. But he seemed to think something was up. There probably was, but I didn't know what it was. How could I tell him that?
"Who is it?" I muttered as I rubbed my eyes and glanced over at the clock to see it was almost 10:30am.
He shrugged. "Some guy from work," he said as he continued to hold out the phone.
I wanted to tell him how unhelpful that was, but instead I just forced a smile and took the phone from him. He turned and sauntered back on out the door. I couldn't help but smile a little more genuinely when I saw him go. He was a good looking man with a strong bearing. I really had to find a way to assure him I cared about him even though I had seemed distant lately. Maybe after I took this call.
It was probably a good thing this call woke me up. Even on a Saturday, 10:30 is a bit late for me to be sleeping in. It would normally seem strange to get a work call on a Saturday, but I figured it must be Charlie. He was our new intern and they had him work Fridays and Saturdays due to his school schedule. I was supposed to be his "mentor" or something and I made the mistake of giving him my home phone number. Still, I didn't want to assume anything, so I held the phone up to my ear and said simply, "This is Sarah."
It wasn't Charlie.
"Sarah Williams?" the unfamiliar voice on the other line said. "My name is John Carpenter and I was hoping I could ask you a few questions about the corporation that employees you." Suddenly the voice was unfamiliar no longer. It was a voice I had heard before, in person and in my dreams, and now it was speaking to me on my telephone. I was stunned, and that must have kept me from speaking for at least 10 seconds because the next thing I knew, the voice was saying, "Hello?"
"Yes, sorry, I'm here," I answered, trying to stay calm. "What did you say your name was?"
"John Carpenter," he repeated, just so I could be absolutely sure. "I'm a reporter with the City Times. I understand if you don't want to talk to me, but I'm just trying to learn the truth about the company you work for. I'm not going up against you, and I don't want you to lose your job. Anything you tell me will be completely anonymous and though most have turned me down, a few of your co-workers have agreed to talk, so you wouldn't be alone."
My first thought was to simply tell him to go to hell, but really, I had no real allegiance to my job. I was sure I could get another one if I needed to. And this wasn't about exposing my company for who knows what. Well, maybe it was for John, but for me it was about finding out more about this man who had haunted my dreams, and why on earth he had been doing that.
"Yeah, okay," I finally said, probably just as he was opening his mouth to check if I was still there, again. "I could meet you for coffee this afternoon. Say 2:30?"
"Oh, okay." He sounded genuinely surprised. Probably wasn't expecting it to be that easy. "How about the Starbucks and Thoroughway and 4th?"
I shrugged. "Yeah sure, that would be fine," I said. At least he didn't seem to know where I lived. There were plenty of coffee shops much closer to my house, but I wasn't about to tell him that. "I'll see you there at 2:30."
"Great," he said. "It's a date." And just like that he hung up.
Rude and disturbing. "It's a date." I know it was just a phrase, but I couldn't help but feel it might end up meaning just that.
I shook my head. That was ridiculous. I have a loving boyfriend who I had been thinking about making happier just a few minutes ago. And now I had to explain to him why I was meeting a reporter for coffee. I sighed as I got out of bed. No, I wasn't going to have to explain that. I couldn't. This was just about me. I would just say I was meeting a friend or something. Peter and I still live our own lives. He might continue to be annoyed, but he wouldn't think it odd. And I'd be sure to make it up to him in the evening.
---
I realized when I walked into the Starbucks, that John probably had no idea what I looked like, but I recognized him instantly, sitting off in the corner, playing with some tablet or something, with a cup of coffee right next to him. I resisted the urge to walk right over to him and ordered my coffee first instead. I stood by the counter as I waited for it, and when they called my name, John finally looked up. He stood as I approached the table.
"John Carpenter," he said. "Thanks so much for agreeing to meet with me. I have to admit that I was a little surprised you agreed so readily for this interview. Forgive me for being so brash, but does that mean you have something specific you'd like to share?"
My heart skipped a beat. Of course that was what he would think. He had struck a nerve with me. I knew something about the evil corporation and wanted to reveal it. Well, I didn't know anything, and he would find it crazy if I told him the truth, so I just shrugged. "Just needed an excuse to get out of the house for a bit," I lied.
His face drooped a bit in disappointment. "Oh, okay," he said, clearly not understanding but not wanting to press the matter. "Well, have a seat. I just have a few questions and none of them will be incriminating against you so don't worry. And I would never use your name unless for some reason you want me to. Are you ready to get started?" I nodded. "Good," he said with a nod, apparently regaining his professional composure. "First off, how long have you worked for your current employer?"
The questions only went on for about 30 minutes, and just as I suspected, I didn't have much to say. As the interview grew on and this became apparent to John, I watched him grow subtly more confused about why I had agreed to quickly to come talk with him, but he was a professional and didn't let it show through too badly.
"Well, thanks for you time," he said after I had answered his final question about my working relationships with my co-workers.
As I reached across the table to shake his hand I said, "I'm sorry I couldn't be of more help," not really sure if I meant it or not.
He smiled for the first time since he had first noticed me in the coffee shop. "Oh, that's okay," he said. "If there turns out to be nothing to this story, I want to know that, too. It's my job as an investigative reporter to find out the truth."
And suddenly I saw my chance. My question wouldn't seem quite as much out of nowhere if I asked it right now. "Have you ever appeared on the news about any of your investigations?" I asked.
Even though I had hoped my question wouldn't seem totally weird, he still seemed a little surprised. And then he laughed. "Well, no, not that I'm aware of," he said. "I mostly hide behind the print media, though my picture has been published with my stories a time or two. Why do you ask?"
I blushed, half tempted to say something about how good looking he was as my excuse, which he was, but I didn't want to lead him on, not when I had a boyfriend to get home to. I shook my head and released the grip on his hand that I suddenly noticed I still held. "No reason," I said. "I guess I won't be seeing you, then."
He laughed, thankfully, but then as I stood up to go, I saw his eyes grow wide and I realized he was staring at the necklace, the one Peter had given me. We were sitting at a high table and it hung low enough to have been hidden before, and when I first walked in I'd had my coat on over it. "Where did you get that?" he asked.
I was as surprised by his question as the surprise that apparently led him to ask it. "My boyfriend gave it to me," I said, realizing I hadn't mentioned a boyfriend before now. "It was his grandmother's."
"I could have sworn..." John muttered. He shook his head and chuckled nervously in a failed effort to hide his discomfort. "Never mind," he said. "Thank you again for you time." He took a business card out of his coat pocket and handed it to me. "And please do call if you happen to think of anything else you'd like to share in regards to our... discussion." He nodded politely and then he was gone.
I realized I had just stood there awkwardly as I had watched him go. My mind strangely flashed back to when I had watched Peter leave the bedroom earlier that morning. Why on earth would my mind do that? Was it telling me I'd rather have this man, this man I barely knew, in my life than my own boyfriend. I shook my head. This was crazy. It all was. The dream about a man who hadn't been on the news after all, his reaction to the necklace from Peter, my confused feelings for him. I shook my head again. I had to get home to Peter, and maybe pick up some groceries for a romantic dinner on the way. Although I couldn't tell him why, I knew I had a lot to make up for.
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