Finding Our Course (Finding our Way 3)
“Wait? What?”
“I knew who he was but had to hear it from your mouth.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I like you, Devon. Not until I joined the network was I ever challenged with peers. No one had the ambition I do. That may sound cocky and arrogant, but it’s true. When my mind is set on something, nothing stops me. Like you mentioned in the locker room that day, I was twenty-one when I led my first rally. We were young and misled, but the feeling of making a difference set my course for life. Nothing and no one would get in my way.”
“That’s what makes you one of the most respected women in journalism. People aspire to walk in your shoes and carry the influence and responsibility.”
“Maybe, but that’s not why we’re here. This is completely overstepping my bounds, but, Devon, I see so much of myself in you.”
The words sink in slowly. Did I hear her correctly? “You do?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“Wow, I don’t know what to say. That could be the best compliment I’ve ever received in my life.”
She tilts her head and looks deep into my eyes before speaking again. “I’ve given up a lot to be here. Not here in a hotel in Rio De Jeneiro, but here at the top of my profession. There are always going to be those more professional than me, more edgy, more intelligent, more risky. But I’ve done okay.
“Shit. This is harder than I thought.” She rubs her hands down her face.
“I’m lost.”
“This is my feeble and screwed up attempt to give you career advice.”
“What kind of advice?”
“You’re humble, and I like that. But you’re also passionate, and that’s what’s going to lead you in this industry. Let’s be honest. Your resume and accomplishments alone are going to boost you into the MFA program. If you can keep up the grades and continue to stay out of trouble, this is a given.”
“Aren’t these good things?”
“Yes, but they aren’t going to sleep beside you at night. They aren’t going to warm your heart with love and passion. The travel, the stories, the people and progress… they’ll scratch an itch, but it won’t be enough.”
Her words swirl around my mind, and I’m still confused. The last thing I want to look is totally incompetent, so instead, I stare, waiting for her to continue.
“Fuck!” She lowers her head and wrings her hands, refusing to return my stare.
“I’m trusting you here, Devon. Please don’t make me regret it.”
I swallow down the lump forming in my throat.
“Henry— I mean Professor Grant, called me when your fiancé called him. We all agreed from the beginning that Israel wasn’t right for this summer. But none of us shied away. When the parents started calling in, the ‘powers that be’ got busy. But it was Bryce Randolph’s call that stayed with Henry. Did you know that your fiancé had his commanding officer, or soon to be CO, call too?”
I drop my head, trying to hide the flush creeping up my cheeks.
“Don’t get embarrassed. That is true love.” She pauses.
“After the chips fell, so to speak, Henry called me again. I lied to you earlier. I didn’t agree to this if I could hand-pick my team. I begged for you.”
I inhale deeply, unbelieving.
“Yeah, I’d seen your stuff. Henry sends portfolios to all of his contacts. But he knew you’d catch my eye. You’re talented… very young… but still talented. He knows what he’s talking about.”
“Shana,” I say shakily. “I’m not sure where you’re going with this.”
She slides a folder to the end of the bed. When I open it, I gasp loudly. “Holy Shit! Is that? It can’t be…”
“That’s Henry and me. That particular picture was our first day in the Master’s Program at William & Mary.”