“Army brat?”
“How’d you guess?”
“Well, it was either that or the witness protection program.”
He laughed, seeming to appreciate her good humor.
“How do you like working for David Jones?”
“It’s great. Jimmy Butler seems to be missing tonight. That’s a plus for us.”
As Ronnie observed the players, she remembered the game she’d played with David, and involuntarily ran her fingers over her lips. That kiss. It had been so good. All she’d ever imagined. Yet, she was almost sorry it had ever happened because it just left her craving more. And based on the way David had acted since he had returned from his Washington trip, he had clearly put that kiss in the rear view mirror. If she had any sense, she would too.
“You’re doing it again,” Bob said gently.
Ronnie blinked and realized he was inches away from her face. She drew back.
“Sorry, Bob. Forgive me. I promise it will not happen again.”
~*~*~*~
David couldn’t take it any longer.
It was now halftime.
Everyone was getting snacks, mingling, talking, and Ronnie was still chatting with Bob Gershon like they were best buddies.
There had been a moment just before the game had begun when Gershon had leaned towards her so close it looked like he was about to kiss her. David had barely restrained himself from going over there and tossing Gershon over the balcony.
When Gershon got up to go to the bar, David excused himself from Cheryl who sat beside him and took a seat next to Ronnie.
She didn’t glance around.
“Rose is in good form tonight. Because of him and Anthony we had a great first half. It looks like our team will kick their butts,” she said.
“Surely you’re not talking about the Knicks beating the Bulls on their own turf ‘cause that’s not going to happen,” David countered.
Ronnie was obviously startled as her head whipped around and she looked at him with surprise.
“David! I thought you were Bob.”
“Don’t know how you could confuse me with Bob Gershon. For starters, he’s white, and I’m black. You really think the Knicks will win, huh? Are you aware that since the start of the season the Knicks have been struggling? Their defense is the worst in the league.”
“That’s not true,” she said in outrage. “The Lakers are the worst.”
David gave a laugh.
“Okay, excuse me. They are among the worst in the league. I’ve got to admit that tonight the Bulls have been having some three-point woes, and if you can’t score on the awful Knicks defense, it’s not a good sign. So maybe they won’t get torched tonight, just singed. But winning? If the Bulls allow the Knicks to beat them, I will go down there and knock all their heads together. I swear I will.”
Ronnie frowned a little and shook her head.
“You’re being very unkind to the Knicks. They have been improving. Just look at tonight’s performance. They just need some new players. More guys like Porzingis and Rose. Rose is looking like his old self tonight, finishing through traffic. I think they’ve got a chance. Carmelo Anthony is also playing well. He made several great passes to cutters inside which opened up things for the Knicks.”
She put her elbow on her chair’s armrest and turned her body towards David. In a move that seemed perfectly natural, he shifted in the chair so that he was almost facing her.
“That’s the thing with them. They are so inconsistent. You know what they need? A new head coach,” he said.
“Hornacek is a good coach, David. You’ve got to work with what you have. He himself said the guys just don’t seem to have the skills. They just need to hire some new blood.”
“They just brought in new blood,” he said, hammering the palm of his hand for emphasis.
In his lawyer-trained way, he seemed to need to present compelling evidence to convince her.
“I heard Noah’s four-year contract cost them $72 million. He was supposed to have anchored the Knicks defense. Instead, the guy has the Knicks’ second-worst defensive rating and the least defensive win shares among all NBA centers. Look, you and I both know that with rare exceptions, the Knicks have been between bad and really bad on defense for a long time. The problem is their offense has gotten significantly worse. So, in addition to not being able to stop anybody, they’re now unable to even score.”
Ronnie placed her chin in her palm and smiled smugly.
“I’ve been praying for them. Tonight’s performance is proof.”
“You’ll have to stay on your knees for that bunch. I still say the head coach and his team need to come up with some kind of…”
“Hey, David, you stole my seat.”
David glanced up at Gershon in annoyance.
“There are plenty seats around, Bob,” he said dismissively, and then turned attention back on Ronnie.
“David, I went to get Ronnie something to eat. Don’t be a bully.”
David sighed. No wonder Gershon was touted to be the best campaign manager around. Apparently, he didn’t know how to take a hint to get lost.
David stood and moved past Ronnie. He asked the person to her right to move down one, and then he took their seat.
“Yes, Ronnie. So, as I was saying…”
~*~*~*~
Ronnie found herself in an uncomfortable position. She was enjoying her chat with David but was conscious of Bob Gershon at her side. Based on the questions he had asked her during the first half, he obviously knew very little about basketball, but she couldn’t ignore him. It had been very thoughtful of him to get her the food and drink, and it wouldn’t be nice to make him feel left out.
She spent most of the time bringing him into the conversation and explaining the rudiments of the game when she would really rather talk basketball with David all night over a cup of hot chocolate. Worst yet, David wasn’t even helping. He seemed sore with Bob for some reason and barely said anything to him.
In the end, the Bulls did not win. They lost by four points. The final score was Knicks 110, Bulls 106. David was not amused. Ronnie thought of asking him if she could watch him butt their heads together but she decided against it.
As he sat glaring at the court, she was sure he was trying to give the Bulls the singeing they had failed to give the Knicks. She watched him for a minute to see if heat rays really would emanate from his irises like Superman. Nothing happened, so she reached for her bag and stood.
“It’s been real, gentlemen. Have a good evening, you two.”
David glanced up at her in surprise.
“You’re leaving already?”
Ronnie shouldered her bag and with lips twitching, said, “Why? Is there a celebration after party you’ve got planned?”
The heat ray glare turned on her.
She gulped and muttered, “Guess not,” and began to move past Bob.
Bob stood at the same time causing Ronnie to almost topple backward. He grabbed her in time and steadied her.
“Let me see you out,” he said with a smile.
“Where are you going?” David asked Bob angrily.
“I’m going to walk her to her car,” Bob replied, redirecting his gaze from Ronnie to David.
“What is she, six? She got here perfectly well without your help, and I’m sure she can leave without it. We’ve got campaign matters to discuss in case you’ve forgotten.”
Ronnie looked at David in shock. She’d never seen him act so rude to anyone before. She looked at Bob Gershon to see what his reaction was.
If Bob Gershon was embarrassed, he didn’t show it.
“You’re right. I forgot,” he said smoothly. “Ronnie, it was a pleasure. We should sit and watch a game again. You made it very enjoyable for me. Let’s exchange numbers so we can keep in contact.”
Ronnie hesitated. She wanted to refuse, but David was listening and she didn’t want to add to Bob’s humiliation by turning him down.
“Su
re,” she said and waited as Bob whipped out his phone.
After they had exchanged numbers, she bid both gentlemen goodnight again. She observed Bob turn to engage David in conversation as she walked away.
~*~*~*~
David swallowed his resentment and leveled his gaze at his campaign manager. Bob Gershon had to be the most annoying man he’d ever met. First, he had tried to monopolize Ronnie’s time with a bunch of foolish questions about basketball. David knew for a fact that the man already knew the answers.
When he and Bob had traveled to Washington a couple weeks ago, they had taken in a game, and he seemed very well-informed about the latest basketball stats. He’d also told David he was a Bulls fan. Now, all of a sudden, he was acting like he’d just landed from Mars and didn’t know a dribble from a shot. Added to that, he was suddenly a Knicks fan. What a two-faced skunk.
He’d felt like calling him on it a few times but had decided he wasn’t worth the trouble. It had only been when Gershon attempted to leave the box with Ronnie, after practically embracing her, that David had lost it. He didn’t like being hostile to people, but he felt that the man deserved it. The fact that he had still been able to get her number didn’t sit well with him, but he had to swallow it. She wasn’t his woman after all. He had no claim to her.
David reached for self-control, took a deep breath and focused on business when he would really rather challenge Gershon to a duel.
“What have we got planned for next week?” he asked.
“More door knocking. Remember, voters want to see you, touch you, and hear you. Volunteers are great, but they’re no substitute for you.”
“It’s door knocking, then, and more house parties?”
“Yes. That has been working pretty well. And it’s less expensive that fundraising dinners. We’ll work that along with more public campaigning in community town halls and so on. The next few weeks are going to be intense.”
“I’m in the middle of an important M&A. I have to devote some time to that next week.”
“We’ll need to meet and discuss what is crucial and what can be re-arranged, then. How about tomorrow?”
David raised an eyebrow.
“Bob, tomorrow’s Sunday, which means church.”
“Sunday afternoon is fine by me.”
“I’m actually leading worship at Sunday evening service.”
It was Gershon’s turn to raise a brow.
“Church twice in one day? You’ve got to watch that. Voters don’t mind a candidate who goes to church. It’s respectable. But fanaticism is another story.”
David swallowed back the response he wanted to give and instead said, “You should join me for service. You may learn a thing or two.”
Gershon met his gaze with his steely green one.
“No thanks. Monday is fine for our meeting. Your office, right?”
Any excuse to see Ronnie, right?
“The campaign office. Five p.m.”
~*~*~*~
“It’s gorgeous. I love it.”
Ronnie ran her hand over the cover of the book. She flipped through the pages and paused at one photo. It was a photo her dad had taken of her mother while she was pregnant with her. It was taken just days before he had returned to Bosnia, and the last photo he’d taken of her mother.
“It's very nice. I’m glad you decided to keep it in. Your mother’s a very beautiful woman. And it’s great next to your own photo of her.”
Ronnie nodded.
“Does she look like anyone you know?”
The woman stared at the photo.
“Dana.”
“Yep.”
Ronnie ran her hand over the book cover one last time before she handed it over to Geraldine.
“May I keep that copy?”
“Of course.”
She glanced at her watch.
“I’ve got to leave soon for a meeting back at the office.”
Geraldine watched her curiously.
“May I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“How come you work as a legal assistant? With your talent and your money you could be a full-time photographer.”
“I’m actually enjoying what I do. At first, I just did it on a lark. Now I find law interesting. I think I’ve found my niche. It’s not about the money. I’m beginning to see that I can do both. Work in law and be a photographer. In fact, I’m considering applying to law school next year.”
“Really!”
“Yep,” was Ronnie’s only response before an abrupt turn back to matters of her new book.
“You wanted to discuss the marketing?”
Chapter 15
David returned from a fund-raising luncheon to find an invitation in the middle of his desk.
He turned it over in his hand. Then he broke the seal. The gold-embossed writing read:
You're invited to The Launch of Ronald Dickson and Ronalda Dickson’s book of photographs, War & Peace. Les Fleurs Photo Studio, Huntington Ave., Great Street, Chicago, Illinois, November 12th at 7 p.m. Cocktails will be served.
David re-read it. Ronnie had published the book of photographs. And she had heeded his advice to include her own photos. He felt his chest swell with pride in her.
The launch would take place a few days after the election. Two weeks away. A big week for him. A big week for her. Was it just coincidence or divine intervention?
David picked up his phone to call Ronnie. It rang for a second, then he put it back down. He left his office and went in search of her. He found her in the photocopy room.
He leaned against the door frame, crossed his arms over his chest and watched her.
Eventually, she sensed his presence and turned to look at him. She blushed lightly under the scrutiny of his gaze.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked.
Somehow she knew what he was talking about.
“I did tell you.”
“Months ago. I didn’t know you were going to include your photos. I didn’t even know the process would be completed so soon.”
“You were busy with your campaign. There was no time to chat.”
He couldn’t argue with that. Still, he felt like he should have been more involved in this important journey.
“It’s wonderful news. I'm so happy for you,” he said.
She blushed some more. “Thanks, David.”
~*~*~*~
Two weeks later
“David, Ronnie Dickson is here to see you.”
David looked up at his press secretary, Liz Henry, in surprise.
He had hardly been in the office for the past two weeks. So now he felt his heart skip a beat at the thought of seeing Ronnie. Not only because he missed her but also because of what her presence implied. Beyond the perfunctory questions in recent weeks about how the campaign was going and a campaign donation of $5,000, which had really surprised and touched him, she hadn’t shown much interest in the whole election campaign. Unless she was there on Jones Law business which would really be odd given he was on tenterhooks tonight and couldn’t really focus on anything beyond votes.
“Show her in, please.”
Ronnie came in with a smile. She had a large bag over her shoulder and wore a party pin which said ‘Elect David Jones for State Senator.’
He smiled. “I didn’t expect to see you. Everything alright?”
“I came by to show my support.”
She touched the pin on the lapel of her tan leather jacket. “I’ve been handing these out in my building and along my street all week. It’s in my interest that my candidate wins.”
“Really? I didn’t realize you were working so hard on my behalf.”
She shrugged and looked down at her shoes.
“It’s no big deal.”
“It’s a big deal to me,” he said quietly, sincerely.
“I believe in you. In the values you have. In the change you want to bring. You have my full support. I actually registered to vote in Chicago a mon
th ago, just so I could vote for you.”
“I wasn’t aware you felt so strongly about my campaign. You never said anything, though you did make a donation, which I really appreciated by the way.”
“I don’t necessarily wear my feelings on my sleeve. I’m not like you.”
He cocked an eyebrow.
“I wear my feelings on my sleeve? This is news.”
She colored. “That’s not what I mean. I meant to say I’m not one to stand on soap boxes but I know what I believe.”
He folded his arms across his chest.
“I stand on soapboxes, do I?”
She shoved him in a playful attempt to make her point.
“You know what I mean. Arrgh. Don’t make me give you a black eye.”
He couldn’t seem to stop his ear to ear grin.
“Thanks for your support, Ronnie. I really appreciate it.” I really appreciate you.
She reached into her bag to bring out an unexpected surprise.
“I baked a cake. And I brought celebratory champagne,” she said pulling out a bottle.
He shook his head and took the bottle from her, turning it around so he could see the label.
“Cristal. Now I feel special.”
“There’s a case outside. Only the best for my guy…”
His eyes flew to hers.
“…I mean my candidate.”
Their gazes held and they both seemed to hold their breath. Ronnie was about to open her mouth to break the intense silence when Gershon appeared at the door.
“The media is here, David. You’re going to want to say a few words. Make it light and succinct. Hi, Ronnie.”
She smiled at him. “Bob.”
~*~*~*~
Ronnie followed the men out of the office as they made their way to meet the press. She found a seat as she observed David charm the members of the media. He spoke easily about the election, having fought a good fight, the satisfaction in knowing he had done his best, and that he was certainly as anxious as anyone to know if he had been able to convince voters he was the man for the job. Then he added, “May God’s will be done.”
A Case For Love (Royals Series Book 3) Page 17
