“Heard what?”
Debra looked to the ceiling and shook her head. “You’re not angry, so I’m assuming you haven’t heard. I spoke with Mr. Springfield today—the state hasn’t automatically denied the permit allowing Clear Water to discharge into Springfield Creek.”
Danielle set the mug on the counter, coffee and gala temporarily forgotten, and crossed to the small wooden dinette table. “What? They should be shutting down, not expanding.”
She’d fought on behalf of the River Watchers all last year to get Clear Water’s permits revoked. The small wastewater provider couldn’t handle the sewage from the rapidly growing area coming to them and had exceeded their permit limits for pollution levels going into a tributary of the river. The state had agreed and ordered Clear Water to come up with a plan to reduce pollution or shut down.
“They think that expanding their operation and adding another discharge point will make them meet our demands.”
“The creek can’t handle that.”
Debra nodded. “I know that. Mr. Springfield certainly doesn’t want it going into the creek. He worked too hard with us to put the easements in place that will stop it from future development. Now all those efforts are threatened if this happens.”
Danielle’s brain buzzed with a variety of ideas. They needed to do something. “We need to get in front of the county commissioners at their next meeting. Get them to deny any permits for the expansion. If this goes through it doesn’t just hurt Mr. Springfield, it had the potential to hurt everyone living in the Crescent Acres community.”
Crescent Acres was a low-income neighborhood in an area just south of Jacksonville, Florida. Springfield Creek flowed right through the neighborhood before it entered Mr. Springfield’s property. Many of the people who lived there fished and played in that creek. If a sewer provider that already couldn’t meet their current permit limits started dumping poorly treated wastewater into the creek the effects could be devastating.
“I’m already talking to the commissioner’s clerk to see about getting on the agenda,” Debra said.
“Any idea what stance the county wants to take?”
Though the county leaders sometimes voted to preserve the areas going into the river, they also rarely took a huge stance on environmental issues.
Debra shook her head. “No idea.”
Danielle slapped her fist into her opposite palm. “We’ve got to get them to fight this.”
Debra chuckled. “I think they’re already expecting your call. The clerk remembers how much you hounded the state to go after Clear Water last year.”
“I only scheduled a small press conference.”
Debra smirked. “You put out a rally cry to our supporters to show up in front of the Clear Water gates with old toilets and signs that said ‘Poop in the toilet, not our river.’”
Danielle shrugged and smothered a grin. She was pretty proud of that idea. “It got everyone’s attention. We’ll need something equally big to get people paying attention again. That was just a year ago, but no one is watching what Clear Water is doing now. I can’t believe they have the nerve to try and dump into Springfield Creek.”
“They’ll be ready for battle after you gave them so much grief before.”
Danielle had been with the River Watchers since graduating from the University of Miami five years ago. When her sampling efforts proved Clear Water was dumping catastrophic amounts of pollution into the river, she’d spearheaded a movement against the provider. Her actions quickly turned the small organization into the most well-known conservation watchdog in the community. She’d gone from organizing their monitoring program to an executive director in a record five years.
“Does it look like I can’t go to battle with them?” Danielle turned, picked up her coffee mug off the counter and took a sip.
“Of course you don’t look like you’re ready for battle. That’s why you win. You surprise people with ferocious tenacity beneath your girl-next-door exterior.”
“I do not.”
“Yeah. You do.” Debra eyed Danielle from head to toe.
Danielle straightened her glasses and smoothed the front of the white cardigan she wore over a navy sundress. “Maybe I use that as a slight tactical advantage.”
“You’re never afraid to do battle with anyone, which is why I love working with you.”
“Don’t try and butter me up for a raise,” Danielle teased. “I won’t be able to cover the part-time salaries of the interns next fiscal year if we can’t get any more donors.”
“I’m not worried. Since you became executive director a year ago the donations have improved. The idea for the River Gala and silent auction this year was smart. I’m sure that’ll help raise some funds.”
Debra nodded and looked at Danielle like she was the great black hope. Danielle’s earlier freak-out about the success of the events she planned came back full force. They would need several successful events, not just the gala in a few weeks, to keep their doors open.
“If it makes you feel any better,” Debra said. “I think Mr. Springfield knows this is going to be a huge battle for us. He gave us a gift to thank us for our efforts.”
“A gift?”
“Two tickets...wait let me start over. Two—courtside—tickets for tonight’s Jacksonville Gators game.” Debra pulled the tickets from her back pocket. “He said to go, enjoy and relax before the fight. I know you’re a huge fan. I figured you’d be excited.”
Danielle rushed over to Debra’s side to snatch the tickets. “Are you for real?” She scanned the tickets to confirm the unbelievable news.
“Yep. Mr. Springfield has to go out of town tonight. He said he couldn’t think of two more deserving ladies than us.”
“Tonight’s game is a big one for them. They’re playing Miami.”
“Ooh, double the eye candy. Miami has some sexy players.” She bumped Danielle with her elbow.
“I wasn’t thinking about the sex appeal of the players. If this game was after the gala it would’ve made a great prize for the auction.”
Debra poked Danielle’s shoulder. “Will you stop thinking about the gala for a second and accept this completely fantastic gift?”
Danielle rubbed her shoulder even though the spot didn’t hurt. “I don’t always think about work. And we had drinks a few weeks ago.”
“Drinks with the other river rats a month ago doesn’t count,” Debra said, referring to the other conservation leaders in the area.
They’d gotten the nickname after a snarky reporter accused the environmental community of “scurrying around the river looking for problems” like rats. Instead of getting offended, Danielle insisted they accept the nickname. They did look for problems, and they made sure the problems were fixed.
Some called her overzealous. She didn’t care. There wasn’t much she could hold on to in her life. She was single, her parents were always busy with other things, she had no siblings, and she hadn’t had a significant relationship since college. Her passion for protecting the river was about the only thing to keep her warm at night. A state some would consider depressing if they didn’t consider her reasons.
The Ridgeport area was her home. She’d inserted herself in the community, made connections with residents and other activists there. What she did to protect the people hurt by industries like Clear Water, and their appreciation for her efforts, was the only proof she had that she mattered to someone.
“Come on, Danielle. We’ve got courtside seats. We have to go.”
Danielle did a quick count in her head. It had been over a month since she’d done anything remotely fun that had nothing to do with raising money for the River Watchers. “Why not?”
Debra did a quick shimmy of her hips and grinned. “Yay! It’s going to be so much fun. Hey, we’re right behind the benc
h. Maybe you can put that unassuming girl-next-door charm on blast and snatch a towel from one of the players.”
“Really, Debra, how am I supposed to do that?”
“They won’t suspect you of stealing a towel,” Debra said with a wiggle of her eyebrows. “Try to go for one that Jacobe Jenkins uses to wipe the sweat from his brow. Since you salivate every time you see him on television or on a billboard.”
Danielle waved a dismissive hand, but her heart wasn’t so indifferent. It jumped with a secret thrill of excitement. “I do not salivate.”
Debra’s smirk screamed, Yeah, right. “Yeah. You do. You both were at the University of Miami at the same time. Did you drool over him then, too?”
Drooling over Jacobe Jenkins was an understatement. Hiding how much desire gripped her whenever he came near had become her number-one priority. Except for that one night. Danielle tried to force the long-ago encounter from her mind and focus on the myriad of ways Jacobe Jenkins had irritated her, when he wasn’t sending her estrogen levels through the roof.
“Every time I was around Jacobe he was being a cocky jock who thought the world was his to command, or he was on his way to a party.”
Debra held up both hands in front of her body. “Shut the front door. You did not tell me you know Jacobe Jenkins!”
“I don’t know Jacobe. I knew him. A hundred years ago when we were freshmen in college. I tutored him a few times in Biology 101. He left for the draft right after freshman year, and I never saw him again. A few brief interactions do not count as knowing him.”
One night of fast and hot sex the night before the draft could count as knowing him, but Danielle was taking that secret to her grave.
“It’s still cool that you kinda know him. It’ll be fun to sit right behind him and the rest of the team at the game. Maybe he’ll see you and recognize you. Then he can introduce me to one of his sexy teammates. That team is full of grade-A, prime-choice, hot-guy sexiness.”
“First of all, I doubt he’d recognize me. Second, if he did I doubt even more that he’d speak to me. Third, prime-choice, hot-guy sexiness? What is that?”
“Um, every single man on that team.”
Debra and Danielle both laughed. Someone cleared their throat. They both stifled the laughter and turned toward the door. One of the female interns who took water samples along the river stood there with a cooler in her hand. “I’m going to take some samples on the beach today. You need anything before I go?”
Danielle shook her head and tried to look professional. Hard to do after being caught talking about prime male sexiness. “No, Marie, we’re good.”
As soon as the young woman walked away, Danielle bumped Debra. “We’ve got to stop talking about the men of the Jacksonville Gators like they’re pieces of meat. It’s not professional in front of the interns.”
“The interns drool over those men, too,” Debra said, grinning. “So, are you really good to go? Don’t you want to see the super-hot men on this team up close?”
A shiver of anticipation raced through Danielle. Seeing Jacobe up close and in person would be fun. Based on media reports, he was cockier and even more arrogant than she remembered. Shortly after joining the league he’d gotten into some trouble for fighting and partying hard. The team that had drafted him had traded him to Jacksonville two years before. Jacksonville had been a laughingstock of the league until Jacobe joined and they picked up a few more free agents and draft picks. Some were even talking play-offs this year. Of course he wouldn’t recognize her, but she was a fan of the team, and seeing him again even if from afar would be kind of thrilling.
You seriously need to find a man.
Danielle pushed that thought aside. She didn’t need anyone to validate her. She had her work. People moved on. The cause remained the same.
She looked at Debra and nodded. “I’m in.”
* * *
The Jacksonville arena buzzed with the excitement of the rivalry game. The same energy pumped full throttle through Danielle and Debra. Danielle had only been to two other Gators games. Each time she’d sat in the nosebleed seats. The Gators had almost made it to the play-offs last season, but had lost in overtime. That was the last game she’d come to. She and the rest of the fans had felt the team’s disappointment that night. This year they’d played each game as if it were a rematch of that heartbreaking loss. With each win, ticket prices increased. Nosebleed seats were getting to be out of her budget. Courtside had only been a dream before Mr. Springfield’s gift.
Debra gripped Danielle’s arm. “Oh, my God, there he goes again!”
“Are you going to do that all night,” Danielle said, swatting at Debra’s hand. Every time Jacobe came anywhere near the bench Debra went into a fit of hormones. They both wore Gators T-shirts and jeans. Debra’s proudly included Jacobe’s number, 06, on the back. Jacobe wasn’t on the bench often. He’d spent most of the first half contributing to his team’s six-point lead over Miami. The few times he did come to the bench, Debra’s enthusiasm rivaled that of someone who’d just won the Powerball jackpot.
Debra released Danielle’s arm. “I can’t help it. He’s so damn fine.”
Danielle couldn’t argue with that. Instead, she took stock of Jacobe’s fineness herself. And, boy, was that man fine. Six feet and four inches of long, lean muscle, smooth, terra-cotta skin and walnut-colored eyes. He played point guard and led the team with ease and confidence. His large body was a thing of grace and beauty. He handled the ball with self-assurance, ran up and down the court without hesitation and effortlessly faked out the opponent defending him. Since he’d been traded to the Gators she’d seen images of him everywhere, but being this close to him in action proved how inadequate billboards, television commercials and nosebleed seats were at portraying his skill and hotness.
Danielle alternated between greedily studying his powerfully built body and jumping up to cheer with the rest of the fans every time he scored. When she’d first come into the arena she’d considered keeping to her seat to try not to draw any attention to herself. That idea was immediately dropped after she was swept away by the buzz of electricity in the crowd. What did it matter if he did happen to look behind the bench? Jacobe had more than likely forgotten about her. Even if he happened to remember the tutor he’d slept with one night in college, she doubted he thought of her often or remembered much about her.
That night she’d known she would be treated as just another groupie, but knowing that hadn’t kept her away. Despite the attraction that sizzled between them, Jacobe had never tried to hook up with her. He’d been dating a girl named Christy, and, unlike many of the jocks she knew, he’d been faithful to her. Getting Jacobe to stray from the girl he’d started dating in high school had been a game for so many girls. A game Danielle had prided herself on staying out of. Then she’d heard that Jacobe and Christy had broken up.
To this day she couldn’t believe her audacity, but a switch had gone off in her head after hearing about the breakup. A part of her felt that if he was single she wasn’t being just another girl trying to steal him away. The thought of that day crept into her head, dulling the noise of the crowd as she remembered how she’d lit into him for keeping her waiting for another tutoring session.
“Yo, I said I was sorry. I have a party to prepare for,” he’d said.
“You know what, go to your party and quit wasting my time,” Danielle shot back. “I’ve got better things to do than babysit jocks.”
“You know what, I’ve got better things to do than get lectured by you,” he’d said, then turned to his roommate, who’d come with him to the library. “Come on, man, let’s get out of here.”
His roommate had snickered and tapped Jacobe on the arm. “Dude, why don’t you two just hit and get it over with? You know all that fighting is just foreplay.”
Jacobe’s sexy brown eyes had
raked over every inch of her body. “I’d love to. She doesn’t want to handle all this.” He’d given her a cocky smile before turning and leaving.
That one simple statement had made her blood boil, though not from rage. She hadn’t known if he was truly interested or just wanted to tease her, but she’d gone to his pre-draft party that night wearing a sexy black dress she’d bought on a whim a month earlier. She’d gotten her answer. He had been interested, and she was able to handle what he offered.
They’d left the room in an awkward silence. Jacobe had promised to call. She hadn’t believed him. The next day he’d flown to New York for the draft, and she’d never heard from him again. Through the grapevine, she’d learned he’d reconnected with Christy.
She didn’t regret their time together. Over time she’d gotten over him never calling. She’d gone over there to discover if he’d felt the same attraction she’d spent the year trying to ignore, and she’d gotten her answer.
The buzzer for the end of the second quarter sounded. Danielle jerked out of the past. Debra was too busy cheering to notice Danielle was distracted. The crowd clapped as the Gators ran off the court. Danielle joined in. Jacobe walked over to the chair right in front of where Danielle stood, snatched up a towel and wiped his face.
He looked up into the crowd, spread his arms wide and waved them up and down. “This is our house!” he yelled, getting the crowd hyped even more. His intensity burned off him in waves.
A tiny shiver ran through her. His gaze lowered from the upper stands and landed right on hers. Most of the air evacuated her lungs. He held her gaze barely a second before looking away.
He took a step, paused, frowned and then turned to stare directly at her again.
Danielle’s heart thudded, and the remaining air in her lungs dissolved like cheap tissue paper. Her stomach clenched right before a thousand feathers tickled her inside. His eyes lightened, maybe with recognition—she couldn’t tell—but the smile that spread his lips sent a bolt of lightning straight to her core.
All He Needs Page 18
