"I think I love you," she said, her tone light and teasing
Mark smiled. "Yeah, right. See you in a bit."
He brightened at the prospect of not having to eat alone. If the timing had been right, he might have seen Lily in a romantic light. Her bright red hair that she wore in tousled spikes gave her a fun look matched by the sparkle in her green eyes. He had met her years ago though, and at the time, she had a steady boyfriend. Later, when they had partnered up in business, he'd had Jessie. Neither had anyone at the moment, but it was too late; they'd grown into a comfortable friendship.
Twenty minutes later, he plopped the bag of food onto his desk in the office of the studio. Lily was at her own desk retouching photos on the computer. Mark found that aspect of the job tedious and was thankful that she loved doing it. She wasn't crazy about photographing kids and babies, so he took most of those shoots. It worked out well.
Lily glanced up. "I have the trays set up in the dark room. You want to do your special photos now or after we eat?"
"After. Not much point in rushing to develop them since I won't know details until I go to sleep anyway."
It was the other thing he loved about Lily. She accepted that his first priority lay with changing the photos and the dreams. Before he agreed to go into business with her, he'd told her about the camera. After not telling anyone the first few years he'd had it, and then getting locked up as an enemy combatant, he'd learned his lesson. He shared the information with a few people now. It lightened the burden.
She thought it was wild that he dreamed about the photos and had asked him all kinds of questions at first. Questions like how did he remember the dreams? How did he know they weren't just regular dreams? Did he have to do anything specific when he looked at the photos, like meditate or pray or anything? She had offered to try and meditate on a few, hoping to have the dreams too, but it hadn't worked.
The first few times he'd used the camera or changed an outcome when she was with him, she'd been in awe. Now, it was old hat.
"Sounds good. I'm starved." She stretched her arms above her head. "Oh, wait. Don't forget to call that reporter chick." After a bit of rifling through papers and proofs, she dug the paper out from under her coffee cup and thrust it towards him.
"Reporter chick?" Mark chuckled as he took the paper, wiping it on his jeans to get rid of the ring left by the cup. "Is that who I should ask for?" He sat at his desk and pulled the phone close, opting not to use his personal cell phone.
"Smart ass. Her name is right there." The twinkle in her eyes belied the false toughness in her words.
Mark nodded and winked before dialing the number. It was answered after just one ring.
"Hello?"
Surprised at the quick answer he stuttered, "Ah-uh, yeah. This is Mark Taylor. I had a message from a Ms. Jeffries?"
"Yes, this is Denise Jeffries. I'm a reporter with the Tribune. I have a few questions, if you don't mind." She didn't wait to find out if Mark minded or not. "I found some very interesting tidbits about you while researching a Good Samaritan."
The hairs on the back of Mark's neck swept up in a chill. "Tidbits?"
"Yes. For instance, you're the same Mark Taylor who was held as an enemy combatant."
It was a statement, not a question, so Mark kept silent.
"Hello?" Jeffries sounded as if she expected some kind of confirmation of the information.
Mark shot a look at Lily, who made no pretense about not listening. She'd pulled her chair right up to the desk and had her chin in her hand, her eyes glued to him.
Uncomfortable under the scrutiny, he glanced away. "I'm still here."
"Well?"
"Well what? You didn't ask me a question."
"Ah, I see. Can you confirm that you are the same man who was held as an American enemy combatant?"
"Yes. That's true." Mark felt Lily watching him, but he kept his eyes averted. She knew about his time spent in prison, but he rarely spoke of it.
"And…? Why did they let you out?"
He clamped his lips into a hard line as he felt anger build. "No comment."
"No comment? But according to the records, you were held for fifteen months, and from what I've learned about enemy combatants, it couldn't have been an easy time."
His release had been secured, but he'd had to sign a statement that he wouldn't go public about his experience. Since he'd been eager to forget it anyway, the silence contract had been easy to keep. "Sorry. No comment. Now, if that's all-"
"No! Wait, I have some other things I'd like to ask you."
Mark waited.
Taking his silence for a go ahead, Jeffries launched into an avalanche of questions. "You were injured when you interfered with an undercover officer making an arrest back in early 2001. Is that true?"
"Yes."
She sounded exasperated when she said, "I have a whole string of similar incidents that I've found. The incidents are spread over the city, and it seems I'm the only one who connected them back to you."
"Incidents?"
"You must know what I'm referring to. You swoop in and save the day. You saved a baby with CPR, a child from being hit by a car, a teen from getting shot by an off-duty officer." She paused and when he didn't fill the silence, she continued, "I could go on and on. I cross checked your name in the paper archives with a source with the police filled me in on some that never made the news. How do you explain the string of incidents?"
"I don't understand why an explanation is necessary. Why are you asking?"
"Are you a religious man, Mark?"
Taken aback, he darted another glance at Lily. She was the religious one. In spite of her tendency to dress as a free spirit, she practiced her religion with a quiet devotion Mark admired, even if he didn't understand it. "What business is it of yours?"
"Do I hear defensiveness in your tone?"
"I have no idea what the hell you hear. I have dinner getting cold, so if you don't have something else you needed, I'd like to eat it."
"Do you work other miracles?"
"Listen, I have no idea what you're talking about."
"In the report on the baby who almost drowned, it says that there had been no heartbeat and you had to do CPR. Within a few minutes, the baby was crying and in fact, suffered no lasting damages."
"Yes. So?"
"Do you realize that nearly all children who require CPR end up dying or are left with severe neurological damages?"
"No."
"It's true, but the little girl you saved, Christy, is just fine. I spoke to her mother this morning."
He had never learned the outcome of that save, but hoped she'd recovered. The infant had appeared okay when he'd last seen her just before his arrest, but he knew that sometimes there were complications. "That's great."
"It is, and I have several more incidents that you were involved with that could be considered miracles."
Mark leaned forward, his elbows on the desk as he held the phone to his ear. "What are you implying?"
"Mark, do you feel like you have a connection to God?"
His mouth dropped open and saw Lily's eyes shoot up in question. He looked away. "Ms. Jeffries, I think you need to find another story, and I need to eat before my meal is ice cold." Ignoring her protests, he clicked the phone off. Scrubbing his hands down his face, he sighed and bent his head, massaging the muscles at the back of his neck. What a nut.
"You okay?"
Mark let out a sharp chuckle. "Yeah, that reporter had some crazy notion that I worked miracles."
Lily stood and began pulling the cartons of food out of the paper bag. She shrugged. "What's so crazy about that? Isn't that pretty much what you do with your camera?"
"Okay, I admit the camera is probably something miraculous, but I can't tell her about that, and I'm just a regular guy, so yeah, it is a crazy notion."