His face turned toward her and she noticed a slight shrug of one shoulder. In a moment, she watched as Jake directed his attention to the screen. A new presentation began—a black and white documentary that, with very little commentary, visually created the pictorial representation of a day in the life of a boy without a father.
Cory watched the short film, in awe of the way the pictures tugged at her heart, even made her tear up. Then the film showed the boy paired with a man—a man whose face was never revealed—and portrayed how the boy’s life had changed. His accomplishments and growth were made obvious and the film made her—and she assumed anyone who watched it—want to stand up and cheer for this boy who had found someone to help show him the way.
She glanced at the faces of others, and clearly saw their emotions playing at the surface. It was a very powerful film and whoever made it had successfully reached every heart in the room.
Everyone rose to their feet at once as the presentation ended, and the Pathfinders president announced it was to be a part of their new national campaign; that they were branching out of the Midwest, their goal to have Pathfinders in every state in the nation.
“And we have Jake Randall to thank for this,” the president said, sweeping his arm toward him.
Cory saw Jake’s brows come together in confusion.
The president waited until after the applause died down and everyone had taken their seats again, then said, “There is one more speaker to introduce, ladies and gentlemen. I’d like you to meet the creator of the film you’ve just enjoyed. This young man’s mother was instrumental in connecting our organization with Think Tank, and it was Jake Randall who mentored him. Well, let me bring out Daniel McCarthy and he can tell you his story.”
Cory watched as a tall, thin young black man stepped onto the platform, his face split in a wide grin. He first walked over to Jake to shake hands. Even from the distance, Cory saw them make the move to hug, stopping themselves as though they suddenly remembered they weren’t alone, and that there were several hundred pairs of eyes trained on their every move.
His secretary’s son? Cory watched Jake as his gaze followed Daniel as he went to the podium and raised the microphone.
“Good evening. I wanted to be here tonight to share a little of my own story, so you could put a human face on the tremendous good this organization can do for someone like me. I was lucky. My mom, who couldn’t be here tonight, hand-picked my mentor, who happened to be her boss. She can be a pretty persuasive woman when she puts her mind to something, and I’m glad she talked Jake Randall into being my mentor.”
As the room broke into applause, Jake felt his face redden. He searched the sea of faces for Cory’s. She wagged fingers at him, obviously enjoying his embarrassment. Had she known this was going to happen? She should have told him if she knew. Irritation simmered along with his growing uneasiness. He didn’t like surprises, being put in a position where he couldn’t prepare.
“Pathfinders is an incredible way for anyone, in any community, to make a difference in a young person’s life. All it takes is time and commitment. I was on a slow downward spiral; I had some serious problems that Jake helped me with because he understood what I was going through.”
God, was he going to talk about the reading and study tutors they’d shared? Jake felt his stomach lurch. Please, Danny, just leave it alone.
“Jake Randall took time away from his job to help me, to be with me. Maybe at first it was because of my mom talking him into it, but I could tell he really cared. He cared about my success in life and helped me be what I am today. And I’m here this evening to personally thank Jake Randall...for helping me...find the right path.”
Jake stared at Daniel, relief washing over him at the ambivalence of his speech. He was shocked the kid felt he’d had that big of an effect on him. It made no sense. There were so many times Jake had been late for their meetings; forgetting outings until he’d had to call Daniel with some lame excuse he had to work and couldn’t be there and needed to reschedule. So many times he’d disappointed the boy and never made it up to him, just like his own old man had done to him.
Jake realized the crowd was on its feet, waiting for him to respond. He stood, then joined Daniel at the podium. They raised their hands together in a gesture of victory and his heart swelled.
The film Daniel had made showcased a talent the young man was giving him some kind of credit for. Nonsense. He knew it had to do more with courage, that Daniel had somehow found the courage to do the thing he loved the most. Make movies.
“It is my honor and privilege tonight,” Daniel continued, leaning into the microphone to make sure his words were heard, “to present Jake Randall with the very first Pathfinders ‘Mentor of the Year’ award, which will, from this day forward, be known as the Jacob Randall Award.”
The applause continued as Jake took the heavy statue in his hands. He held it closer to see the details; it was a finely sculpted bronze of a man and boy walking hand in hand on an uneven cobblestone path.
The flash of cameras brought him back to reality and he saw Pathfinders’ president at the end of the stage gesturing to them both to join him. Photographers appeared and he dutifully pasted a smile on his face knowing he’d be posing with countless officers of the Board of Directors who wanted a photo op. Soon dozens of people swarmed the area below the stage.
***
Jake blinked to help the flash-spots dissipate from his eyes, and finally caught a glimpse of Cory at the fringe of the crowd. She waved and mouthed “Go—I’m fine,” letting him know she at least appeared to understand that he’d now have to provide quotes for society page reporters covering the gala, and some sound bites for the local television news.
He nodded, mouthed a “thank you” and returned his attention to the small group in front of Daniel and him.
When at last he and Daniel had done their duty and he’d said for the umpteenth time how other businesses should lend their financial support to such a good organization, their job was done and the two were alone in the foyer.
“Mom says hi.”
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah. She’s the matriarch of our family and had to go to New Jersey and help out with some family decisions. Her aunt wanted to get a second medical opinion and was having trouble navigating her insurance.”
“I wish she could have seen this—”
“Oh, she got to see the film already and I think someone was taping the ceremony. She’ll see it when she gets home. I gotcha good, didn’t I?” Daniel asked, punching Jake’s shoulder.
“That you did.”
“You really like the film?”
“It should help make this year a record breaker for the organization as far as fund raising. You did good, Daniel.”
“You know I meant it all, right?”
Jake stared up at the boy—now a man—who stood in front of him in his elegant tux, standing at least a head taller than him now. “I guess I’m just a little surprised. I didn’t think I was that good at being there for you.”
“Oh, man. I can’t believe you.” A boy’s voice colored his retort. “Mom said you would have no idea—she was right. Man, you gotta believe you made a big difference for me. We studied hard together, remember? I’d push you, you’d harp on me if my grades slipped. We were a team. I friggin’ graduated with decent enough grades that I qualified for a scholarship to Chicago Creative Arts this year. Didn’t mom ever tell you?”
Jake racked his brain; if she had, it was when he was either so preoccupied with a task or simply not listening. “I don’t know. You know how I get sometimes—missing half of what’s being said if there’s too much going on or I’m distracted. I was probably on another planet when she told me.”
“Yeah, I know. Doesn’t matter, though. It’s a hot film, huh?”
Jake slapped him on the back. “Man, it’s a great film!” He pulled Daniel to him and they finally embraced.
“You mind if I get back ins
ide?” Daniel said, shaking off the hug as he looked around to see if anyone had seen them. “Got someone in there who’s waitin’ to dance.”
“Right. Go on. I’m right behind you.”
Daniel flashed a dazzling smile as he hurried back into the ballroom.
Jake picked up the statue and raised it above his head like a barbell.
“Looks heavy.”
He spun around at the low sultry voice. Julia?
“Sorry I’m late, darling. I left you a message....”
She was dressed in a black halter dress with a split front that was cut down to her navel. It was the kind of dress that the slightest movement offered glimpses of her breasts to anyone who wanted to look, a wardrobe malfunction just waiting to happen.
He shifted his gaze to her face. “You just get here?”
“Just in time to see the award ceremony—congratulations.” She shortened the distance between them and put one hand behind his neck and brought his lips to hers.
Jake lifted one hand to her shoulder, squeezing it gently before he pushed her away, stopping the kiss that she had already turned fiery.
When her smoldering eyes opened, her mouth pulled into a little pout. “Not much of a welcome after I worked so hard to get here to be with you.”
“I’m with someone,” he said, wiping her red lipstick from his mouth with the back of his hand, a little surprised at what he didn’t feel from the kiss. Normally her kiss would have made him want to seek out a dark corner to see exactly how much skin was accessible in the silky dress she was almost wearing. Not tonight. Tonight she had kissed him as though she was on stage; passionless, all for show.
Then he saw why. Cory stood in the doorway of the ballroom, her arms folded across her chest, her chin tilted up defiantly, her eyes ablaze.
“And that someone is me,” she said as she walked forward and stepped next to Jake.
Cats seem to go on the principle that it never does any harm to ask for what you want.
Joseph Wood Krutch
Chapter 11
Cory felt her blood pressure rise, her heart hammering in her chest as a result. The woman who had just kissed Jake had stopped at her table and asked for him, making her believe she was a client of Think Tank’s...snake number two...so Cory had escorted her to the foyer to help her find him.
Jake’s hand found her waist and Cory forced a polite smile on lips that desperately wanted to snarl at the woman.
“Cory Wells,” he said, “Julia Montagne.”
“We’ve met.” Cory leaned into Jake’s warmth as she purposely didn’t extend her hand, then waited for the woman’s next move.
“So, you two are old friends?” Julia asked, taking a model’s stance in front of them that offered a view that barely covered the nipples of both breasts.
“If you’ll excuse us, Julia. I hear the band warming up and I promised Cory the first dance.”
Grateful, Cory reached for Jake’s hand and they left Julia in the foyer to bluster.
As they walked toward their table, she felt him tug her back toward the dance floor.
“Oh, no. I get my dance.”
She turned toward him to see the wide grin he only seemed to allow when he was truly pleased. She’d seen it a few times—when he’d finally memorized his speech, when he talked about Tillie—and it was on his face now.
“Okay. Something easy, though, and absolutely no dipping.”
“You have my word—I know better than to mess with the Barracuda.”
Good. Things were better—easier—when he was teasing. She felt his hand slip around her waist and she relaxed into his arms as though she belonged there.
He pulled her a little closer, then began to weave her through the couples as skillfully as he steered his fancy car at top speed. As they made their rounds, once again colleagues and clients congratulated him; countless times their dance was interrupted to chat with people who wanted to be near the man of the hour. Cory fell into the easy supporting role of the ever-smiling date, and “yes, she was proud of him too” and “yes it certainly has been a glorious evening...one to remember forever....”
She was glad to do it. It was his night, and one he deserved.
The music slowed and it seemed as though the crowd of well-wishers had finally finished their back-thumping. The lights dimmed lower and the band’s female vocalist began to sing a sensuous bluesy song.
Cory didn’t resist at all as Jake pulled her closer still. His body felt firm and strong, and it was as though all her curves knew exactly where to best fit against him.
She allowed her eyes to close as she nestled her head against his shoulder, her body melting into his. Her fingers found the nape of his neck and she explored the softness of his hair. Then she felt finger tips on the bare skin of her back, sending a delicious tingle rushing through her. He brought her other hand in closer to his chest, pulling her nearer until she swore she couldn’t breathe. But it didn’t matter. It was as though they breathed together as they swayed to the music, barely moving out of their spot on the dance floor, unaware of whatever else might be happening around them.
She felt his warm breath against her neck, then his lips touched her ear and he murmured something so softly she couldn’t quite hear. Forcing her heavy eyelids open, she lifted her head back just enough so she could see his face. “What?”
“You are so damn beautiful, Cory. Do you know how stunning you are—how every man here wishes he were me right now?”
He wasn’t teasing. His eyes were filled with something she’d never seen before...or had she? Maybe once. Maybe that last night in Faythe when they were too young to even know what it really was, let alone what to do with it.
But she wasn’t too young now. And tonight she had the courage to be the kind of woman he wanted...no, needed her to be.
“Take me home,” she said firmly. When his brow furrowed she sensed his confusion and added, “To your place.”
***
Jake slid the card key into the slot on the elevator and saw the slight tremble in his fingers.
They hadn’t talked at all during the short cab ride back to his building. She’d simply snuggled up next to him and dropped her head on his shoulder.
The elevator zoomed to the top floor and opened to the foyer; he unlocked and pushed the apartment door open for her and she floated past him, leaving a scent behind that would forever be linked with his memory of the evening.
He reached inside the doorway and flicked on the lights which also started a Keb’ Mo’ CD playing softly in the background. He followed her into the living room and placed the bronze statue on the mantel of the fireplace. It dawned on him it was the only personal ornamentation in the room, the only thing that was really his in the entire room.
“Looks good there,” she said, standing at his side as they both gazed at it. “It’s a nice piece; lots of emotion in it. You should be proud, you know. You had an incredible impact on Daniel, regardless of what you might have thought before tonight.”
He turned to read her expression. She faced him, and her face glowed; maybe just a trick from the light, but he didn’t think so. Her skin seemed to shimmer and there was something new, something daring about her eyes...eyes like simmering chocolate, tempting him to do the thing he had wanted to do the minute he’d seen her glaring at him from underneath Tillie’s big maple tree that first night.
He reached a hand to her face, caressing her chin with his thumb until her lips parted just a little. Her eyes didn’t move from his as she seemed to be searching for something. Answers? Promises?
“Kiss me,” she whispered.
He took a sharp breath, then tipped her chin up and dropped his mouth hungrily to hers, drowning in the sweetness of her lips, feasting on her.
Time ceased to exist as he felt her lean into him and deepen the kiss. Minutes or hours passed when finally he came up for air, his lips tingling; he was fully aroused, and scared out of his mind.
“Cory.” His voi
ce came out hoarse and unsteady.
She smiled at him, her eyes half-closed. “I have a proposition,” she began, keeping her arms wrapped around his neck. “Let’s have this one magical night—let’s drink champagne and eat strawberries. We’ll get this out of our system, no strings attached. Agreed?”
Was she serious? He studied her eyes, only seeing the sincere and honest woman he’d ever seen. No games. No illusions.
“If you’re sure—”
“Open the champagne.”
She released him and he untied his bow tie on the way to the bar. Behind him he heard the rustle of her dress as she settled on the leather couch and slipped off her shoes. He pulled the cork out of the Dom Perignon and filled two flutes, then put bottle and glasses on the tray of chocolate-dipped strawberries and brought it all back to the coffee table.
She picked up one glass and handed him the other as he sat beside her. “To the man of the year, and to this magical night.”
He touched her glass with his and took a healthy swallow of the sparkling liquid. When he looked back at her, he saw she’d done the same. Was she nervous too?
Picking up a strawberry, he held it out for her to taste; he watched her teeth sink into the berry and her lips quickly wrap around it so none of the juice dripped onto her dress.
“Yum. You need to try one,” she said.
He grabbed one from the tray and popped it whole into his mouth while she nibbled the rest of hers from his fingers, giving his fingertips a playful bite.
“Have I told you lately how fabulous you look tonight?” he asked.
“As a matter of fact, I believe you said something about me ‘cleaning up real nice.’”
He grinned. “And your hair...it looks...”
“Short?”
“No. Oh, I don’t know. Different. Nice. Very sexy.” His last word caused her eyes to darken and her cheeks to redden. Was she so unused to compliments?
“You think?” she asked, bringing her free hand to her hair and combing through it with her fingers.
Hell, he wanted to be her hair at that moment; feel her fingers running over him. God, she was beautiful.
Homecoming Page 13
