The Dark Proposal (The Claire McCormick Trilogy) (3 page)

She was reading one of his articles at about 10 PM, when her computer made a ringing sound, indicating she had email. Quickly she checked it, and sure enough, the professor had responded. Although he had emailed via his phone, it was nonetheless a message.

I’ve read the first two articles you sent me. You do have promise as a writer, but as I told you before, you need to aim higher if you want to be a success. Let’s meet soon to go over ways of getting you more work.

She let out an excited gasp and immediately typed back.

Yes, I am free to meet up all day Friday and this weekend. What time is best for you?

As soon as she hit
Send
, she raced out to the living room where her roommates were watching TV.

“That professor got back to me!” Claire had to struggle to get all her words out and breathe at the same time. “He likes my work, he wants to help me and he wants to meet with me!”

The two other girls started squealing, asking where she and Daniel were going to meet. When she told them she was waiting for his email, Samantha and Monica dragged her back into her computer where they all huddled around it to see if there was a response.

How is Friday night? Are you able to come into the city? We could meet over coffee at about 7 PM.

As she typed back – albeit with a lot of typos she had to fix – Claire felt herself burning with excitement. Not only was her writing career looking brighter, but maybe her personal life too.

CHAPTER TWO

“All ashore, all ashore!” The voice over the loudspeaker sounded as the Staten Island Ferry docked at Whitehall Terminal in lower Manhattan. Hundreds of its passengers began to file out.

Claire was one of the last to leave. Before she got up from her seat, she checked her phone for the address of the coffee shop where she was to meet the professor. Running her fingers through her mid-length brown hair and taking a mental note of her casual appearance of jeans, flats and minimal make-up, she took a deep breath. Meeting with the professor to discuss her future was making her nervous rather than excited. Ever since that Tuesday, this meeting had been frequently on her mind as though the constant thinking would bring the moment sooner.

She took the subway uptown, and arrived in TriBeCa where Daniel lived. Since she had a few minutes before the meeting, she took her time getting there. She wanted to take in everything around her because she loved being in the city. New York was the best place on earth. Even though she barely traveled to other parts of the world, she knew no other city could top it. The excitement and the energy vibrated through her whenever she went there, and she was in one of its more glamorous neighborhoods, where millionaires and celebrities lived. She had often daydreamed of living here growing up, and envied Daniel for having his own place in the area. He must have had a trust fund to afford a home in this place; freelancing and being an adjunct was far from enough to live here.

After walking about three blocks from the station, Claire arrived at the shop. When she entered, she spotted him sitting in the back reading a newspaper, away from the more crowded seats where patrons drank their coffees while surfing the Web on their laptops. As she walked up to him, he glanced up and then looked at his watch. “Punctual. I like that,” he said as she slid into the chair opposite him.

“Thanks. I hate being late for anything,” she smiled.

“Would you like anything? Some water?”

“Uh, no. Do they have cappuccino?”

“Of course,” he motioned over a waitress. Claire felt stupid asking that. What coffee shop didn’t have cappuccino?

After they gave their orders, she folded her hands on the table and waited. Should she say something first? She decided not to.

“So,” Daniel cleared his throat as he put his phone on vibrate. “I read over your articles. They’re very good; they show potential. But as I told you before, you can’t be aiming for publications with low circulations. Its good to do it now, as you build your portfolio, but you should’ve done that before you graduated, just to be honest.”

Claire felt her face flush with shame. Even her parents told her that.

“But now since you’ve got six articles published, plus that internship, you can start to aim for newspapers and magazines that have better circulation, and better pay. Do you live at home?”

“No, I live with two friends not far from the campus.”

“Uh-huh.” She knew what he was thinking, and her unease grew. “Well, like I said, now is the time and I am here to help you.”

She smiled. “Great. I take it you know a lot of people.”
 
Should she have said that?

Daniel didn’t seem to mind. He laughed a bit and said, “Well, yes. But you are not ready for most of them. They are the editors of the magazines I mentioned to you, and to write for them you must have a wealth of expertise. But I do know a few people at the major local publications. Here.” He dug his wallet out of his black denim jeans, produced a sheet of folded paper and gave it to her. On it, were the names of a few editors of the city’s large newspapers plus some that ran major New York magazines.

“Since you said you want to write about art and culture, I figured you’d want to know someone at those magazines,” Daniel was saying.

“Yeah, I do,” Claire said. Looking up at him, she smiled again. “Thanks so much for this!”

“My pleasure, Claire, my pleasure.”

Their orders arrived and as they began to drink the coffees, they discussed how to get the attention of those editors Daniel knew. He told her to use him as a reference and to grab the editors’ attention.

“Do you find it unfair that its all about who you know in this industry?” she asked between sips.

“Connections and nepotism have been around for ages. To survive is not to complain but accept,” he said sternly. Claire nodded, feeling a bit foolish for her whining.

Daniel went on to discuss the realities of the business, but she blocked him out. She had been sitting here for several minutes and she felt as if she was making a fool out of herself. How could this established writer be willing to help her? Oh, and chances of dating him were finished. A guy who lived in TriBeCa and wrote for major magazines would not want to help a lowly part-time office assistant…

…suddenly, her mind cleared. Just like a light switch.

Blinking twice, Claire felt shaken. What was she thinking about? Was she thinking about anything at all?

Daniel was looking at her, eyebrows slightly raised.

“A penny for your thoughts,” he said as he gulped down the last of his coffee.

“Oh…I-I…nothing,” she stammered. Whatever it was she was thinking about, it was not weighing heavily on her shoulders.

“I’m curious about something,” the professor said, leaning forward. “You mentioned you like art, and you’ve written two articles about art exhibits. My question is, what is it about art that you like it so much?”

She didn’t want it to happen, but a smile spread across Claire’s face. Here was another of her favorite topics, which few shared with her. And here was someone wanting to discuss it with her.

She started talking about how as a child, her parents took her to art museums in both New York and Philadelphia. She even took a few art history classes as electives.

On and on she went about art. She was afraid she was rambling too much about it, but Daniel listened intently, inserting a few comments about art from time to time. When she mentioned her love for medieval tapestries due to their mysterious aura, the professor seemed impressed and asked which was her favorite.

She paused from finishing her now-cold cappuccino. “I’ve been rambling on and on about this. You seem to like art too. What is your favorite period and who is favorite artist?”

Thus, the meeting that was supposed to be about helping her find work as a freelancer turned into something deeper. They chatted not only about art, but also history, politics and religion. Claire was amazed by Daniel’s great knowledge about European history. It was as if he studied that instead of English. He also had deep views about politics, especially on the international level. He made more sense than any of the history or political professors she’d had at Richmond. One would’ve thought he wrote about that subject rather than lifestyle and culture as he often did. As for religion…

“You could say I am agnostic. The idea of a God existing sounds great, but it’s almost too great to honestly believe.”

“I hear you,” she said. “I don’t think much about God and religion. Twelve years of Catholic school can do that to you.”

The night wore on and they learned more about each other. Besides being a freelance writer, Daniel also wrote short stories and plays. He had a few produced in small theaters around the country, but nothing yet in New York. Not that he was aiming to be a famous playwright; he simply enjoyed another form of expression. Claire talked to him about her school’s literary magazine, where she was its editor during her final year.

The conversation between them was like a duo of musicians, two different lives and experiences coming together to form a melody. She felt her earlier unease sweep away and be replaced by calmness she hadn’t felt in a long while. Her laughter was more genuine since before graduation, back when the realities of the real world were dawning on her.

It was a while before she realized how dark the coffee shop had become. Glancing outside, Claire saw the sky was a shining dark blue.

“Wow!” she exclaimed, checking her phone for the time. It was nearly 8:30 PM. “It’s later than I thought.”

Daniel didn’t look the slightest bit daunted. Checking his watch, he asked if she had somewhere to go.

“Not right away,” she said. “I have to meet with my roommates later, but no rush. How about you?”

“Unfortunately, I have some friends to meet up with soon.” He looked at her with those blue-green eyes that seemed so deep and wise. “I’ve been enjoying our conversation. Is it possible we could continue some other time?”

“Sure.” She smiled. “When is it good for you?”

“Next Friday? Since I teach at night.”

“Okay, that works. What time? Same place?”

He smiled a bit. “No. How about a dinner? I’ll find a place and let you know about the time.”

An electric shock went through Claire as she felt a surge of excitement, but made sure she didn’t show it. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Daniel’s smile grew wider, but not too wide. “Good. I’ll let you know by early next week the time and place.”

She nodded enthusiastically. They got up from their seats and Daniel walked over to the hostess to pay for the drinks.

“Do you have to go far?” he asked her once they were outside.

“No, the train is a few blocks away.”

“All right then.” He fixed his eyes on her. They looked more beautiful by the minute. Giving her a slight smile, he placed his left hand on her left shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I’ll see you next week, Claire. Take care.”

“Yes, you too!” she smiled. He nodded and walked away. She watched him go, though not for long because he turned the corner within a few yards and he was gone.

Alone, she let herself smile wider. A dinner in the city, he likes art, he was interested in what she had to say, they had great discussions – almost too good to be true!

Late the next morning, after finishing up breakfast, Claire brought her laptop out into the living room, placed it on the coffee table, and turned it on. She was going to chat with her parents via video.

As she waited for the video program to load up, she thought about what specifically to tell them. She would certainly mention how the professor helped her get into contact of the magazine editors, but would stop there. She knew her parents would be livid if they figured out she going on a date with a much older man, let alone someone whom she had professional ties to. The last thing she wanted was lecture from them on how men were.

When the video completed loading up, she saw her parents were already online. Claire clicked the appropriate buttons, and they appeared on the screen, with the old kitchen in the background.

“Hi, dear!” her mother’s singsong voice sounded.

“Hey Mom! Hi Dad!”

“Hi Claire,” her father said in his stern fatherly voice.

“How are you two?” Claire asked.

“Fine, fine,” her mother said. “So, what is the good news you have to tell us?

“I finally got a break in my freelancing. I found the names of some editors at major magazines, and I am going to contact them and start pitching stories.”

“Oh, that’s good. That’s a step,” her mother smiled.

Her father nodded. “Okay, but do they know anything about you? Meaning, have they heard of you before?”

“Not yet, Dad.”

“Well, how could you be getting anywhere if they haven’t met you or heard of you yet?”

Claire sighed. Here was her father putting down everything she said or did. Never failed.

“Before I didn’t have any names or emails,” she said. “But now I do. And I have a portfolio to show them.”

“All right then. So, we’re moving forward here finally.”

Her mother nodded and said, “Anything else? How’s Staten Island? How’s working at Richmond going?”

“Same as before,” Claire said. “How’s Zach and Kristina? What’s up with Ava?”

She chatted with her parents about the loads of photos her sister-in-law kept sending via email. Like any first time mother, Kristina got elated whenever her five month old baby smiled, giggled or made milestones in development, and is quick to share photo with everyone in the family. Claire didn’t mind since it always brightened her day.

She and her parents talked for fifteen minutes before she signed off. As she started to lazily browse online, she heard the grinding sound of a garage door opening. The Palermos’ were going off somewhere. Claire and her roommates were amazed that Vincent and Theresa allowed them to rent their apartment despite being recent college graduates. They did have good credit and made their rent on time. But it was Monica who suggested perhaps the couple desperately needed to pay off their mortgage, like so many other families, and took them in.