only their third meeting, she could tell he appreciated a woman with a nice butt.
“Did you get here all right?”
Daman cleared his throat before answering. “Yes, your building was easy to find.”
“Great. Would you like anything to drink?”
“Yes, a Coke would be fine.”
“Coming right up.”
Imani made her way to the kitchen, making sure she swayed extra hard while she had his undivided attention. She heard him mumble something under his breath that sounded a lot like damn. She had to admit, he definitely looked handsome in his blue sweater and dark jeans, but she felt a sense of power in seeing his reaction to her seductive dress.
“One point for me,” she said to herself when she reached the kitchen, licking the tip of her finger and swiping an imaginary number one in the air.
When she returned, she noticed her short trip to the kitchen had allowed Daman enough time to regain his cool.
“Here you go.” She handed Daman his drink. “Shall we get down to business?”
“Yes. When are you leaving for Atlanta?”
“I’m leaving this Friday, but I’m only staying over the weekend. I’ll work with the gala volunteers over the weekend. Then I have to be back in Chicago because I’m interviewing on The Jimmy King Morning Show on Z105.”
Imani sat on the couch a little closer to Daman than she had originally planned.
“That sounds great,” Daman responded, taking a sip of his drink.
She watched the movement of his Adam’s apple as the liquid slid down his throat.
Imani shifted to adjust her dress, aware that Daman’s eyes had now ventured to her breasts. She perked them outward, glad she’d worn her new Victoria’s Secret push-up bra.
“I met Jimmy King at a party we planned for Jennifer Hudson a couple months ago, so originally I was going on his show to advertise and discuss Elite Events. Now, I’m going to discuss the gala, as well. I’ve talked to the Simses and it’s been approved for me to discuss the event.”
“I’m sure you’ll do well,” Daman said with a smile. “So are you proud of everything Elite Events has accomplished so far?”
“Of course I am. Nothing beats going into business for yourself. What about you? How do you like being the vice president of Barker Architecture?”
She noticed the slight tightening of his jawline before he told her that he enjoyed it. Sensing he was uncomfortable with the subject, she decided to let it go—for now.
“Okay, so I figure the first thing I’ll do the morning after I check in to my hotel is head down to the location of the gala. I have a contact list that Mrs. Sims emailed me, so I’ll make a few calls and see who can meet me there.”
“Sounds good. Be sure to see if the volunteers are as excited about helping as Mr. and Mrs. Sims made it seem. What’s next?”
“Well, I think we should start with the guest list. I have no idea exactly how many people have RSVP’d, so I’ll need to talk to Vicky Gordon, the head volunteer. I was under the impression that catering, decorations and media are all in the works, but nothing is finalized.”
“Same here. Mr. Sims emailed me with strict instructions for both of us. The issue that seems to need immediate attention is the media. The same news shows and television stations that always televise and broadcast the gala will be there. However, we need to make sure that we still maintain a certain amount of privacy for our guests during all the pre-gala events. We want everyone to be comfortable.”
“Yes, we do. I have some contacts in the media that I can reach out to. I think I emailed so many questions to Mrs. Sims that she decided to send me a really detailed to-do list. This list covers more of what we need to do for the pre-gala events.”
Imani handed Daman the list, and her hand briefly grazed his. At the previous dinner, they hadn’t had any physical contact, making this only the third time they’d touched. She couldn’t help but enjoy how stimulating the sensation was. The glazed look in Daman’s eyes told her that he had felt it, too. She couldn’t help but wonder what sensations other body parts could create if she almost melted by the light touch of his hands.
They spent the next two hours discussing Imani’s list of things to do and calling volunteers. Much to Imani’s surprise, most of the meeting remained professional.
“Imani, I must say it was a pleasure discussing business with you.”
“It was surprisingly a pleasure for me, also,” she replied with a sly look on her face.
Daman liked the look Imani gave whenever she was being sarcastic, yet flirty. He just laughed at her comment.
“I’ll give you an update on the gala when I return next weekend.”
“Great. I look forward to it.” As Daman began walking toward the door, he saw something flicker out of the corner of his eye. He looked in that direction and noticed a gold frame on the fireplace mantel that caught the light. For some reason, he needed to get a closer look at the photo in the frame.
Daman could tell that Imani was wondering what had caught his attention. He walked over to the photograph and studied the picture with intense concentration.
“Daman, is everything okay?” Imani asked, breaking his concentration.
He couldn’t explain why he kept staring at the photo. The little girl in the picture was undoubtedly Imani. Her facial structure and features looked the same now as they did when the photo was taken, only more mature. Yet there was a slight difference he couldn’t place that had nothing to do with maturity.
“I’m fine. Who’s the woman in the picture with you?”
Imani walked over to her fireplace. “It’s Gamine.” She picked up the photo and lightly touched the frame. “It was taken when I was seven. Gamine had taken me out of town on a shopping trip. We had the best time.”
Daman knew Imani and Gamine were extremely close, so it was hard to see her look so lost as she stared at the photo. Imani set the frame back down and quickly glanced at him before her eyes settled back on the photo. In that short second, he saw the flicker of despair in her eyes.
That’s what it is. Imani’s eyes had noticeably changed since her youth. In the photo, her eyes were filled with love and happiness, yet in the few times Daman had seen her, they lacked the same elation that the photo captured. She had been a carefree child, and she now carried the weight of adulthood on her shoulders, but his inner voice told him it was something deeper than that.
Imani abruptly stepped back from the fireplace. “Shall I walk you out?”
Her voice sounded pleasant enough, but she wore a plastered smile on her face that might have appeared genuine to many. Daman knew the difference, but luckily for Imani, he wasn’t the type to interfere in other people’s business. He didn’t even know why he cared so much, and the fact that he was so curious about how she felt worried him. He decided it was best if he left before
