see you’ve already started.” Alberta Evans, the manager of the project for the Nova Investment Firm, came in leading the two potential backers they were waiting for. Darien nodded and handed them all packets. Now they were really ready to begin.
Mrs. Evans opened up the meeting with remarks about their purpose for being there. Then she handed the proceedings over to Darien, who walked them through the packet and the programs. “The last thing I want to point out to you is the brochure for our upcoming fund-raiser. You’ll see all the ways you can participate on the back. These programs work, so they’re worth supporting.”
After Darien fielded questions, Mrs. Evans introduced Safire, who opened her portfolio and summarized what the Law Offices of Benson and Hines planned to do for the Legal Assistance Program, selling the whole package along the way. Darien was seeing Safire in action in the professional arena for the first time. She was efficient but endearing, and she was very persuasive. He could see why Benson and Hines had sent her.
After that, Mrs. Evans introduced the potential backers by name and industry, and they each said a bit about what kind of corporate backing they did and why they were considering investing in the Heritage Center.
“I can’t thank you enough for coming,” Darien said.
Mrs. Evans went over a few pages in the proposal that Nova had helped to draft for the Heritage Center. “Now,” she said, “I need to meet with the backers alone so we can create a response to the proposal. Don’t go far, Mr. James and Ms. Lewis. We’ll have our response ready within the hour.”
Darien and Safire moved into the waiting area and dallied at the table set up with refreshments.
“What does she mean when she says that they’ll create a response to the proposal?” Darien asked. “Does she mean that they’re going to decide now who’ll give what?”
“That’s exactly it,” Safire said. “These are the ones in charge, the ones who can make the decision.”
“It might be good that I didn’t know that going in,” Darien said and then chuckled.
“Nervous, Mr. James?” She eyed him in a teasing manner.
“Well, there’s a lot riding on this, like whether all those kids have a safe place to go where they can learn something or get help. It’s not about me. I’m incidental.”
“You don’t seem incidental.”
Safire looked at Darien and gave him that seductive half smile. He couldn’t tell whether she was making fun or not.
“Today you’re standing in for the director of the Heritage Center,” she said. “That’s not incidental.”
Safire had selected a pastry, and the sugar coating was all over her fingers, which she licked in the most alluring way. It reminded Darien of the sauce from the hot wings that she’d kissed and licked off his face in the sports bar, and the memory, paired with what she was doing now, made his body start to react. Was it him, or was everything about this woman erotic in some way?
They took seats in the waiting area, and Safire crossed one leg over the over, her long limbs showing in her short skirt.
Safire turned to him, genially placing her hand on his knee.
“So, Mr. James, are you still taking it slowly?”
“I guess I am,” he said. “I’ve tried it the other way.”
Her eyes flew open. “That says a lot about you. What about chicken and beef and lamb and pork? Have you gotten over your fear of meat yet? Or your fear of women?”
Safire’s teasing tone made Darien look at her to gauge her intent. “I never said I was afraid of meat or women.”
“Show me that you’re not,” she said, licking her fingers again.
Darien shook his head. “You don’t slow down for a minute, do you? What makes you need to move so quickly? What makes you afraid of really having a man in your life, someone who knows you, someone who—”
Safire uncrossed her legs and recrossed them in a huff.
“I’m not scared, Mr. James. I just know what I want, and I’m not afraid to say it. You might be fearful of empowered women. I want someone who’s not scared to go after what he wants and someone not spooked when I say what I want.”
“You don’t have to be wanton to have that, and you—”
“What if I like being wanton? Isn’t it okay if I have desires and express them? If I were a man, you’d be giving me a high five, and we’d be bonding.”
Darien couldn’t help laughing at that, but he didn’t agree.
“Not if you were a player. Not if you were seeking out one physical relationship after another.”
Safire threw her arms up—literally. “Hold up. Hold up, Darien. Who on earth says that’s what I do? That’s not on any agenda of mine.” She pointed her index finger up and followed her sentence with it. “So what makes that come into your mind? See, that’s on you, sweetheart. You’ve tried it the other way, and maybe that’s what you wanted.”
“Oh, no—”
“I think so,” she said and then laughed.
Without thinking about it, Darien cupped Safire’s face in his palm, and she went silent.
“You don’t have to put up a front with me, Safire. I’ve seen tears in your eyes. You’re not all hot and heavy all the time.”
With his palm under her chin, Safire stared into his eyes with her crescent-shaped pools. She was quiet for a long time, staring at him like that—frozen.
When he took his palm away, she leaned toward him.
“Come go out with me, Darien. Play with me. Let’s see where it goes.”
Her words were so quiet and her eyes so steadily trained on him that Darien almost thought he was hearing things. He paused a moment, his own breath caught in his chest. He righted himself and refocused. He was not hearing things. He’d never been asked out in such a sweetly alluring way.
“I have to work at the Heritage Center tonight,” he said, unable to refuse the request but unable to honor it immediately. He was also troubled by Safire’s phrasing. “And I don’t know if I want to play—as you word it. I want something real. I—”
Just then, Mrs. Evans came out and beckoned them into the conference room. The group of backers had responded favorably to the proposal, and they had arrived at a collective response to the budget, covering all the basic programmatic needs. Mrs. Evans showed him a penciled breakdown and said she would fax the completed document over when it was all signed. This meant that the programs were secure.
It was more than Darien had dared to hope, and he was elated. He lingered to talk with some of the backers and thank them, and to let them know what else the Heritage Center was doing to raise the full amount needed for the larger operating budget—overhead, management and so on. Safire lingered to talk to them, as well. One by one, though, they began to leave after
