Give Me Desire (Reason Series)

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Give Me Desire (Reason Series) Page 10

by Derrick, Zoey


  He walks toward me, his eyes raking me up and down, taking me in. The dress covers my feet completely. Only he and I will know that I wear only skimpy ballet slippers on my feet.

  "You look gorgeous," he breathes.

  The desire to kiss him is burning through my body, and I can't help but look up at him, hoping that maybe he’ll finally kiss my lips.

  But he goes for my forehead instead. Ever the gentleman.

  I smile.

  I step back slightly and turn around so that he can see the whole dress. It is a lot lower cut than I'd thought, and the sheer material barely covers the top of my butt.

  When I come back around he is staring, slack-jawed, breathing heavier.

  Desire flares in me again.

  He extends his elbow to me, an offer, and I take it.

  "Shall we?" he says.

  "Yes." My voice sounds husky to my own ears. I want to stay at home tonight with him, but I know that won't happen.

  Andrew and Red are waiting for us when we emerge into the hallway, both of them dressed in black tuxedos with matching bow ties. Red is holding my jacket, but Mikah quickly takes it from him. He opens it up and presents it to me to put my arms in, and I do.

  He offers me his elbow once again, and we're off down the hall toward the elevator.

  THIRTY-THREE

  After a short drive in the limo we arrive at the Millennium Hotel downtown. Outside are people standing around and what seems like a never-ending stream of flashbulbs going off. Press? Photographers? Why?

  Then I see the bright red carpet that extends from the street into the hotel.

  "Take a deep breath, Vivienne, you look beautiful."

  I do as Mikah has asked and I feel calmer almost instantly.

  "Good job. All you have to do is stay close and smile. I will handle the rest."

  I nod, not sure of my voice right now.

  Red is at Mikah’s door, and I see Connor coming down the carpet to meet us. I would much rather have Andrew. Though I trust Connor, especially after today, I like Andrew better.

  It's almost as if he's sensed my preference; instead of joining Red, Connor walks to the front of the car and Andrew gets out. I see them exchange some words, and Andrew comes around as Red opens the door.

  Mikah steps gracefully out of the car, his long fingers buttoning up his jacket as he stands.

  Then his hand comes back into the car, extended in invitation, and I take it, sliding across the bench seat. As I step out, Mikah is quick to wrap his arm around me to steady me.

  He waves, and I hear people shouting his name. Through the wave of flashbulbs I try to focus on where I'm going and what I'm doing, but it's hard; all the flashing lights are disorienting.

  "Breathe," Mikah says.

  I take a deep breath and smile. He releases my waist in exchange for taking my hand. I would much rather be closer to him, but it's hard to walk that way. I follow him along the line of cameras down the red carpet. Red and Andrew are right next to us.

  About halfway up, he leans into my ear. "We're going to pause, face left, smile, then turn around and do the same on the other side. Then we will go straight in."

  "Okay," I say with a little more confidence.

  Two more steps and he stops and turns left, his hand leaving mine and coming to rest on the small of my back. I smile, and a flurry of flashbulbs go off in my face. I find it hard to look straight ahead. After a couple of heartbeats, we turn around to face yet another onslaught of flashes and more people shouting his name.

  After another heartbeat I hear Mikah say, "Okay, let's go."

  We turn back toward the door and make our way into the hotel almost double-time. I'm blinking rapidly, trying to clear the dark spots in my vision.

  "Good evening, Mr. Blake," a gentleman in full livery says. "Right this way."

  He leads us toward a bank of elevators. The spots are slowly subsiding, but I don't really get a chance to look around at the entrance of the hotel.

  We reach the elevators and someone else in full livery is standing inside, holding the door. We all step in, and the doors close.

  I hear Mikah let out a huge breath. "Glad that's over," he says.

  I giggle a bit. "That was awful," I say, and all three men laugh.

  Mikah looks down at me. His eyes are a vibrant green tonight. He's excited about this for some reason. "You look gorgeous," he says and smiles warmly at me.

  I nudge him with my shoulder. "You don't look too bad yourself," I say back, surprised by my momentary lack of filter.

  He smiles wider. "Thank you, Ms. Callahan." Whoa, where'd that come from? But his eyes are alight with even more excitement at my words.

  After a few more beeps the doors finally open into a reception area. Off to the left are several coat racks behind a table.

  "May I take your coat?" he asks.

  I nod, suddenly nervous.

  I turn my back toward him as I undo the two buttons in the front. He gently slips the jacket from my shoulders. A shiver runs through me as his fingers gently stroke along my shoulder. He hands my jacket to the lady at the table, who takes it and hands him a ticket in return. Once the exchange is done, he grabs my hand and we turn around.

  Ahead of us is a set of double doors and a sign overhead that reads Ballroom in gold lettering.

  I notice very quickly that the majority of the guests in the ballroom ahead are wearing black. There are a couple of red and blue dresses scattered throughout, but Mikah and I are the only ones in white.

  Mikah leads me into the ballroom, which is huge but not packed full of people. Round tables surround a small stage and dance floor, and I'm suddenly anxious; I have no clue how to dance. I secretly hope that Mikah won't ask me to.

  We work our way through the crowd. There are waitresses walking around with trays of glasses full of what I think is champagne. Mikah stops one of them and takes a flute from the tray. "Would you please get the lady some cider?"

  "Yes, sir," she says, and she heads off, making a beeline for a table at the far end that is covered in full glasses and champagne bottles.

  "Thank you," I say to Mikah, and he looks down at me, a quizzical look on his face. "For the cider," I add.

  "Of course. Don't want you to be thirsty." He smiles.

  "Mikah." A woman's voice carries over the hum of conversation, and I turn my head in its direction. Walking toward us is a woman with medium blond hair, cut into a cute pixie style, and bright brown eyes. Her floor-length black dress shimmers in the light.

  I look at Mikah, who raises his glass in her direction as she approaches.

  "Hello, darling," she says and places her hands on his shoulders to gently kiss each of his cheeks. I watch in awe. "You look fabulous."

  "So do you."

  She looks expectantly at me.

  "Sydney, this is Vivienne," Mikah says.

  Recognition registers on her face and she smiles warmly at me. "Vivienne, it is a pleasure to finally meet you. I've heard a lot about you."

  I'm at a loss, but Mikah doesn't miss a beat. "Vivienne, Sydney is my senior partner and my right hand. She's the reason I've been able to take these last couple of weeks off."

  "Oh, hello." I smile and offer her my hand. "It's an honor to meet you."

  She takes my hand and we shake.

  I can feel the pride washing off of Mikah. I too am surprised by my own poise and confidence. It's not something I've ever had to do, but it seems to come naturally to me.

  The waitress has returned with my cider. I take the glass from her.

  "Likewise,” Sydney says. “I will let the two of you mingle and I will see you at dinner."

  "Thanks, Sydney," Mikah says, and she's off, just like that.

  I can see by her confidence and the way she greets people along the way that she's very comfortable with who she is and what she's doing here.

  I take a sip of my drink. It's good. Sweet, but not too sweet, and bubbly.

  "Come ‘ere, I'd like to sho
w you something," he says.

  THIRTY-FOUR

  He guides me by the small of my back toward a room to our right. As we approach the doorway I can see that the room has a domed ceiling of glass and that there are tables scattered around the room.

  When we enter, I notice that each table has something on it. I can see everything from bottles of wine to books to a computer, and then some of the tables just have signs on them.

  "This is a silent action." Mikah pauses his steps and turns toward me. "All the items in this room have been donated by someone in attendance. So whatever the winning bid is on an item, that money all goes toward the charity for tonight's event."

  "What is tonight's charity?" I ask, rather anxious to know.

  He takes my hand and leads me to a small round table on the left-hand side of the room. Upon the table is a sign that reads:

  The 5th Annual Hearts and Hands Charity Gala

  Hearts and Hands is a charity specializing in helping battered women and their children.

  Hearts and Hands is also the parent company for many women's shelters throughout Minnesota, including Hope House and Amber's Place right here in Minneapolis.

  Tonight's event is sponsored by MSB Enterprises and MSBE International.

  My eyes fill with tears. The overwhelming emotion I feel is beyond anything I've felt in a long time.

  Mikah leans down. "Please, don't cry."

  "Did you do this for me?" I say through the tears.

  "I'd love to say that I did, but my company started this gala about five years ago. Hearts and Hands was the first - and remains the primary - charity that my company supports." He gets down on one knee so that he can look up into my eyes. "I brought you here tonight because I felt it was important for you to see that my caring for you extends beyond just helping you. I take pride in my company's sponsorship of not only this event, but at least two others throughout the year. However, tonight's event is the big one of the year and raises more than five million dollars for Hearts and Hands." He reaches up to wipe away a stray tear on my cheek and my heart flutters at his touch. "Every dollar raised tonight is matched by me." He takes a deep breath. "I also brought you here because I need someone to help me run and organize MSB's charity division. I'd like, in time, for that person to be you."

  I'm speechless and, to say the least, freaked out by his proposal. "Mikah, I haven't a clue about any of this."

  He smiles warmly. "I know. Which is why I made the offer for you to go back to school - to learn." It's all starting to make sense now. "Vivienne, you're a brilliant young woman and you deserve every opportunity I can give you. I'd love to see what you're truly capable of when you put your mind to something. I want to see your passion for something shine and carry you into doing something you will love. You don't have to answer tonight, but please tell me you'll think about it."

  The idea of going back to school was so overwhelmingly exciting for me when he first mentioned it, and now that I see there is a real purpose behind it, the idea is even harder to resist. "I'll think about it," I say quietly.

  "Good. Now, let's take a look."

  He stands, takes my hand, and leads me over to the first table, where we look at each of the items being auctioned before moving on to the next table. It takes about ten minutes to make our way through the room. The stand-up display on the last table says MSB on it. I read it.

  Portfolio review and adjustment provided by MSB on a portfolio size of up to $10 million.

  Estimated value: $100,000.00

  I look down at the bid sheet. Up until now, the bids have been very impressive, ranging anywhere from five thousand to sixty thousand, but this one surprises me most. The current bid stands at ninety-five thousand dollars. I gape at it.

  "Holy cow."

  "I told you," Mikah breathes, and I look at his beautiful bright blue eyes. Once again they've shifted colors, though the green lingers around the edges. He gestures around the room. "Did you see anything you like?"

  I nod. A couple of tables back, there is a cool iPad and a laptop that looks similar to Mikah's, but both the iPad and computer have a special matching design on them done in the most beautiful deep purple with a rose in gold inlay. The center of the rose is created by a jewel - a diamond, I think. The tag said that they were specially designed and donated by some businesswoman out of Phoenix, and I wonder if she was the reason for Mikah's trip.

  "Which one?" he asks.

  "The iPad."

  He smiles. "I thought you might like that one. Let's go take a look."

  He turns us back in that direction just as an announcement comes from the other room. "Dinner is served, ladies and gentlemen. If you would please take your seats." Ironically enough, my stomach growls.

  We approach the table and look at the bid sheet. It is up to thirty-five thousand dollars, and my eyes go wide as Mikah writes something on the sheet.

  "What are you doing?" I squeak.

  I see him shake with laughter at my tone. "What does it look like?"

  He stands up, and I look down at the bid sheet.

  THIRTY-FIVE

  4. Vivienne Callahan $50,000.00

  "Jesus, Mikah, I don't have that kind of money."

  "Sure you do. You have a credit card, remember." He has a shit-eating grin on his face as he says this.

  "No, Mikah, that is your credit card-"

  "And you're free to purchase what you want with it. I told you that."

  "But-"

  "Don't argue, please. It's for a good cause, and there is a chance that you won't win," he says, but the confidence in his voice tells me that the bid he placed for me will win.

  I know I'm going to lose this argument, but I have to at least try to help him see where I’m coming from. "Mikah, it's too much. I don't even know how to use it, or spend that kind of money on it. Surely there are cheaper alternatives."

  "Of course there are, but I would rather see it go to a charity than to some business that will only use the money to further their profits. Besides, that is a one-of-a-kind design. Just like you."

  He smiles warmly at me and my heart melts, at which point I lose any and all will to argue.

  "Alright," I say, relenting even while secretly hoping I’ll lose the bid.

  He smiles wider and brushes his hand through his hair. “Shall we eat?"

  I nod, and off we go toward the throng of people finding their tables. Mikah leads us straight to ours. Sitting in front of the beautiful place settings - china plates, silverware and crystal goblets - are tent cards with our names on them: Ms. Vivienne Callahan and Mr. Mikah Blake.

  He pulls my chair out for me and I take a seat.

  "Thank you," I say as he helps me slide in.

  Instead of taking his seat, he remains standing behind his chair. Slowly the other eight chairs at our table are claimed, though half of the remaining chairs are occupied by women while their men stand behind them or behind their own chairs. Finally Sydney arrives, but she doesn't sit down, and I notice with curiosity that no one is with her, though there seems to be an empty chair next to her.

  Looking around the room, I notice it is the same at every table: The women are seated - talking with the other women at the tables and drinking champagne - while the men stand behind them. Beyond the tables is a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows hung with elegant white and red curtains that are tied back with gold ropes, allowing the Minneapolis skyline to complete the room. An amazing view.

  I look back at the glasses in front of me; there are three. One has water in it, another other contains what looks like champagne, and the third remains empty. I've never had champagne before, but I'm not about to try it now.

  I reach for my water glass and take a sip. As I'm returning the glass to its place on the table, Mikah leans down and whispers, "The other glass is cider." I look more closely, comparing mine to Mikah's. The color of the liquid in my glass is just a shade darker. I smile.

  After just a couple more minutes, a very attractive olde
r gentleman with speckles of gray in his otherwise black hair comes to the table and pulls out Sydney's chair. She takes her seat, and he heads to the podium on the stage just across the dance floor from our table. I notice now that we are in the very center of the room.

  "Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the Fifth Annual Hearts and Hands Gala. My name is Gary Harper, and I will be your emcee for this evening." He pauses to take a drink of water. "I'd like to start off this evening with a few announcements. The silent auction is over in the atrium, to my left. The bidding will remain open through dinner, and we will announce all of the winners during dessert. In the center of your tables you will all see an empty vase. Please feel free to place tips for your waiters and waitresses inside these. All of your servers tonight are here as volunteers and they are donating all of their tips to Hearts and Hands, so please, tip them well." He takes another sip of his water. "Now, without further ado, please, gentlemen, take your seats. Dinner is served."

  And just like that, seeming to come out of the woodwork, are lines of servers, many of them carrying four plates at a time. They all head straight toward their designated tables. I am first to be served: grilled chicken breast, some vegetables and a spaghetti-style pasta salad. Chicken is far from my favorite, but I highly doubt peanut butter and jelly sandwiches are on the menu tonight.

  Mikah's plate comes next, followed by the rest of the table’s. I'm surprised to see that everyone else at the table has a thick, round cut of beef with the same sides as mine. And then my heart warms as I realize that Mikah has made special arrangements just for me.

  I lean in close to him. "Thank you," I breathe.

  He leans toward me and places his hand on my lap. I take it, and he squeezes my fingers gently. "You're most welcome." He holds my hand long enough for me to begin to wonder how I'm going to eat one-handed, but then he squeezes again and lets go.

  THIRTY-SIX

  Gary comes down from the podium to join us, sitting next to Sydney and kissing her on the cheek. They make a beautiful couple. He smiles at me and begins to eat, just like the rest of us.

 

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