welcome,” Mark said. His eyes narrowed. “No hug for a long-lost friend?”
“I’d rather we keep this professional,” Lisa said. She made sure the headset was muted so she wasn’t broadcasting the conversation to Andrea or Bradley.
“Have it your way,” Mark said, his momentary cheeky grin fading. “What was it you wished to discuss?”
Although his tone never changed, his voice was low and naturally husky, and she concentrated on the challenging task ahead. “Let me be direct. Your father planned to start what we call ‘Pass the Hat,’ which is the donation part of the evening. It’s fun and expected, but the first check has to come from someone enthusiastic about the campaign.”
“That person was to be my father.”
She nodded, optimistic he understood. “Exactly. Herb can’t stand up at the podium and solicit. While he can make phone calls and ask a person directly, to make a blanket request for money during a fund-raising dinner is still considered extremely tacky and in poor taste.”
His brows knit closer together as he contemplated this. “My father didn’t tell me anything about starting a hat pass when we talked.”
Something about his cautious tone put her on the immediate defensive. He could not back out!
“He also didn’t tell Herb he wasn’t coming,” Lisa inserted smoothly. “Anyway, we were depending on him for tonight’s campaign jolt.”
He took a deep breath, his broad chest expanding and contracting. “My father must have forgotten. You knew he had a heart attack, didn’t you?”
“Joann mentioned it,” Lisa said, “but she also said he was recovering well.”
“He’s fine, except that he’s pretty much retired and on doctor’s orders not to do anything too strenuous as he builds up his strength. Anyway, my mother came down with a cold, and he’s home all worried about her.”
“Is she okay?”
“It’s just a spring virus. But Dad canceled everything. I attended the funeral in his place. Even my standing in for him here was just decided this morning.”
Poor Bud. Lisa had always loved Joann’s parents. But this conversation wasn’t getting her anywhere and she checked her mounting frustration. If Mark wasn’t going to help, she had a problem to solve and no more seconds to waste with a man who’d already destroyed her illusions once. “I do understand. I’m sure I can find someone else if you’re uncomfortable stepping into his shoes.”
“I’m never uncomfortable in my father’s shoes.”
His sharp and direct retort surprised her, and Lisa’s eyes widened. She’d barely processed his reaction before the door opened and Andrea entered the meeting room. She smiled apologetically.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, but I have your name tag ready, Mr. Smith,” Andrea said, handing him the computer-generated “Hello, my name is” sticker. “If you need anything else, don’t hesitate to tell me.”
“Thanks.”
“No problem,” Andrea said.
He gave Andrea a cheeky smile, one that Lisa knew worked wonders on women. It had once worked on her. And his grin had the desired effect on Andrea, for she shot Lisa a wistful look as she exited. Lisa kept her lips in a straight line.
“How much was my father going to give?” Mark asked suddenly, his deep voice penetrating her jumbled thoughts. “If he was going to pass the hat, I’m sure you know the exact amount and even had a nice little speech all scripted for him. Now, if you will explain this process to me, I’m sure we can come to some solution that is agreeable to both of us.”
“That would be preferred,” Lisa admitted as she regained her footing. She never lost her balance in the political arena. There was no reason disequilibrium should be happening now, especially with this man.
He smiled at her, but only in a patronizing way designed to establish that the situation was totally under his firm control. “Of course a solution would be preferred,” Mark said. “I’m first and foremost a businessman. I can handle a curve. You’ve certainly given me those before.”
She had? What was he talking about? She didn’t have time for this nonsense or digs into her character that she didn’t understand. “Your father was going to donate two thousand dollars, the maximum donation he could make.”
TWO THOUSAND DOLLARS? Mark froze. The amount of money didn’t shock or faze him; his father was extremely generous, and Herb had been a college fraternity brother. Everyone knew how deep those bonds could run. And two thousand dollars was chump change for the wealthy Smith family.
Lisa took a step back. “If that’s too much…” she was saying, her concentration fully on the check that was getting away and the problem she had to solve. He found her actions and conundrum slightly irritating.
Eight years had changed her, and at this moment Mark wasn’t sure he liked this older and wiser version standing before him. Lisa used to be the one who’d give her shirt right off her back to help her friends. She was the kind who’d take in every stray animal she ran across.
She’d been the one he’d wanted until, instead of meeting him, she’d disappeared into the night without a goodbye. Heck, kissing her in the hallway had made him feel like a superhero. Her disappearance had been a slap in the face.
As for this Lisa…The hardened political dynamo standing in front of him was concerned only about her event and his check. He glanced at her hand—surely she should be married by now.
But no, her ring finger was bare.
“Mark, are you okay? As I indicated earlier, I can find someone else if two thousand is too much money.”
“The money’s fine,” he said crisply, poise regained. His gaze roved over her. She was still beautiful. He’d been attracted to her ever since their first meeting years ago, when she’d first become Joann’s roommate their freshman year.
And Mark was a firm believer in taking the opportunities that fate granted. He’d seen Lisa twice now in one day. She’d run out on him long ago, but she couldn’t run this time. She needed something from him, and he wanted an explanation.
He peered closer, studying the way her blue eyes flickered and the dimple to the left of her mouth twitched. She probably wasn’t even aware of that unconscious movement. So she wasn’t as composed as she thought, which was good.
He shifted his weight and narrowed his gaze at her. “You know, Lisa, I would have thought you’d be married.”
“Well, I’m not.”
“Divorced?”
“No.” Her voice was frostier now, like the chilly air to which they’d both been exposed this morning. Her posture tensed as she struggled to be polite instead of defensive. Right now she probably wanted to tell him to go to hell, but that two-thousand-dollar check was too important. He felt like Rhett Butler having the upper hand with Scarlett O’Hara.
Lisa Meyer, the woman who was going to change the world one
