“I know one of the pier owners. I’ll tell him it wasn’t your fault. Maybe he’ll let you keep your job.”
His eyes hardened, and he could feel the cold anger coming. But as he stood there and looked at her, his gaze gradually narrowed and his thoughts became more reasonable. He was thinking, For God’s sake, take it easy. Don’t blow your top again.
She was saying, “All you need to do is say the word. I’ll arrange for an appointment right away.”
He was able to say easily, “You really think it’ll work?”
“I’m sure it will.”
“Well,” he said, “whichever way it goes, it’s damn nice of you to try.”
“Not at all.” Her tone was level. “I’m only doing what I think is fair. All this was my fault and there’s no reason why you should suffer for it.”
He didn’t say anything. He had a relaxed feeling, an awareness that it was happening the way it should happen. Somehow it was as though they were meeting for the first time.
His smile was pleasant. “If I get my job back, it’ll take a load of worry off my chest. You’ll be doing me a big favor.”
She had moved toward a table near the window. She put the camera on the table, then turned slightly and gazed out the window and for a few moments she didn’t reply. Then, very quietly, “Maybe you’ll get a chance to repay it.”