Passionate Game (Kimani Hotties)

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Passionate Game (Kimani Hotties) Page 9

by Monkou, Michelle


  “Cool. Okay if I stick around?”

  “You don’t have a choice.” Tamara would love to have Becky’s presence to dilute any tension between her and Grant.

  “I wasn’t sure that you wanted me in the middle of your reunion with Mr. Sexy.”

  “Oh, stop.” Tamara sipped the hot drink. “The kids will be there.”

  “Okay. We’ll see how well you both hide your thing. By the way, just a quick reminder that I’m heading to the airport afterward. Catching the eight o’clock flight out to Florida,” Becky said.

  “I’m jealous. The weather is supposed to be fantastic.”

  “Can’t wait to hit the beach. I wish you could come.”

  Tamara hadn’t taken a vacation since she’d opened the academy. “I’ve got too much going on. Plus, you need to be with your mom. At her age, any fall is dangerous. Fingers crossed that it’s only a bruised hip.”

  “Probably another false alarm,” Becky joked, but the worry was clear on her face.

  “Maybe. But you can’t be sure.”

  Becky nodded. “Plus, you know Denny is making a big deal that I’m not there.”

  “You know he’s the baby of the family and he needs his big sister to take on some of the burden.”

  Becky rolled her eyes. “Now he has a girlfriend and she’s a real pill. I think she’s calling the shots.”

  “Uh-oh. I’m really out of the loop,” Tamara said.

  They chatted for a while, catching up on Becky’s latest family dynamics. Tamara listened and offered advice, happy to return the favor of providing a ready ear.

  “Well, whatever time you need to take care of your mom, don’t hesitate to take,” Tamara offered.

  “Let’s not jump the gun. I’m not that much of a good daughter to look forward to a lengthy stay with my mother.” Becky pulled a newspaper from the crook of her arm and tossed it on the desk. “Did you read the business section? Mr. Sexy is in the news.”

  “Why do you have to be so dramatic? You waited until now to tell me about this?” Tamara pulled out the business section and laid it flat on her desk.

  “Bottom right.”

  Tamara read the headline and article that had a negative spin about Benson Technologies being a rogue company that didn’t have enough experience to back its risky moves.

  “Wow. They don’t hold any punches.” Tamara refolded the newspaper and set it aside. Her academy had made it to the local news and was once featured in the county newspaper. Politicians and donors liked having photos with the kids so they could convince constituents that they were socially conscious.

  Once in a while, a parent would get vocal in the media because his or her son had violated a rule and had been expelled or suspended from the program. Tamara had a three-strike rule, and she stuck to it. With those rule breakers, she wasn’t a favorite. Sometimes they took their anger to social media platforms. But the rants didn’t damage her reputation with local legislators; they just tended to be more of a nuisance.

  The attacks also tended to be leveled at her, personally. Tamara knew that her level of social consciousness was often debated, and having parents who were heavily involved in social activism didn’t help. Instead, the bar for comparison constantly shifted to make it more difficult to meet the public’s elusive expectations. Her parents’ success and wealth meant that she had a relatively easy lifestyle, but then again, that added a layer to the challenges that she had to overcome.

  How did Grant handle the constant attacks to his vision and to himself?

  There was so much she didn’t know about him. After their last encounter, they had turned a corner and were now on a ride that promised to be so exciting that she wasn’t ready to get off. Instead, she wanted to go around the block once more.

  Chapter 8

  Tamara emerged from her Grant-filled thoughts to walk with Becky to meet the students and Bill Stevenson, the director of the boys’ home.

  “Tamara, Becky, good to see you,” Bill said.

  Bill had worked his way up through the home. Together they had dealt with the learning curve and had worked to get the right candidates for the various internship opportunities. Tamara had always thought he resembled Lou Gossett Jr. in An Officer and a Gentleman, and she thought that his intimidating demeanor kept his young wards in line.

  “Becky, do you know if Grant has arrived?”

  Mitzy stepped into view after hovering on the edge of the group. “Actually, he got here about fifteen minutes ago. As soon as the guys arrived, he wanted to meet them. Mr. Stevenson thought that wouldn’t be a problem.”

  “You’re right.” Tamara couldn’t help but be impressed with Grant’s initiative. Even Becky raised an eyebrow and nodded her approval.

  Tamara led Bill to the largest meeting room. Conversation and laughter greeted their approach down the hall, and she could hear the low rumble of Grant’s voice.

  Just that single thought about Grant triggered her desire. Tamara couldn’t stop her body’s instant reaction even if she wanted to. She hated to interrupt the deep conversation they all seemed to be engaged in, so they quietly entered at the back of the room. She could hear him talking about his passion for his job. He painted such a vivid picture of his work that the kids couldn’t hide their awe. His tone had an air of authority that captivated the guys. A few heads turned her way, but most of them didn’t notice or didn’t care that a small group stood at the back of the room, observing them.

  Her gaze strayed toward Grant, and their eyes met. In the nanosecond when he looked at her, the distance between them evaporated. From the look in his eyes, she knew that he’d recognized their magnetism.

  Tamara stepped up to facilitate the meeting. “Now that we are all here and introductions have already been made, what would you like to know about the guys?”

  Grant looked at the youths and smiled. “We’ve been having a good chat. I’m impressed by their focus on what they want from this experience. I’m feeling confident that they will get it at my company.”

  “I can’t tell you how much we appreciate you being able to take on all the guys,” Bill piped in.

  “I won’t lie—it is a bit of a challenge.” Grant laughed.

  “We have faith in you,” Becky said. “I’m sure that you will navigate any obstacles and transform them into one of the best creative teams under twenty-one years old. You’re a man who knows how to work around obstacles, right?” Becky’s compliment hovered as Tamara tried, but failed, not to read between the lines. Becky’s small, impish smile was the dead giveaway that she had understood the double message.

  “You give me more credit than I deserve.”

  “And he’s humble.” Becky chuckled.

  “Behave,” Tamara whispered, sidling up to Becky.

  Becky could be quite devilish. However, now wasn’t the time to push any romantic agenda. And she certainly didn’t need ten students picking up on any flirtatious moments.

  “Guys, good to see you.” Tamara addressed the group. “I’m glad you’ve gotten a chance to talk to Mr. Benson.”

  “Grant,” a few corrected.

  “Grant.”

  “When do we start?”

  Tamara looked over to Grant. “Next week on Monday.” She saw his confirming nod.

  The guys immediately broke into a bigger discussion. Their excited chatter increased in volume until the director clapped his hands to get them back under control.

  “Do you have any questions?” She didn’t want to repeat information if Grant had already told them the details.

  “Is it true what Grant said?” Frederick asked.

  “What did Grant say?” Tamara looked toward him for an explanation.

  He shifted, clearly uncomfortable and looking a little reluctant to provide the details.

/>   “Maybe later?” Tamara offered. She’d play along until the opportunity arose to grill him or Frederick. Knowing the young men’s code of silence, she’d focus her attention on the instigator—Grant.

  * * *

  Grant accepted the temporary relief. Not that he didn’t want to share his life story. He’d already shared it with the young men, something he didn’t do readily, hoping that they could see some common points between their lives to earn him some credibility. He wanted them to understand that even though some people may have written them off, they still had the potential for a happy life. He’d never planned to be a mentor, yet here he stood already committed to their destinies. He had Tamara’s brash entry into his life to explain it all.

  “Guys, now, I did promise a few incentives along the way. There will be recognition for individuals, but there will be a really good incentive for the entire team. And I mean the entire team. You start with ten, and you must finish with ten. This will be testing your teamwork skills,” Grant said.

  “Then we’re screwed,” Frederick, the eldest, declared. The group treated him as their leader. Grant knew he’d better learn the social norms and hierarchy of the group to get the most from them.

  “Trent and Leon will mess us up,” another boy volunteered.

  “Man, that sucks,” Graham, the youngest boy, piped up. Despite his small stature, he had quite a mouth on him. His nickname was Pint, but Grant wasn’t calling them anything but what was on their IDs. It was time for the real world to step into their lives.

  “Guys, what’s with the attitude already?” Becky stepped up in her no-nonsense voice. “At least give this a shot.”

  Grant boldly stepped up. “I think, as team leader, I should get in on the incentive. I think Tamara and I should be included in the reward system.”

  Tamara’s face flushed. “No one but the guys are getting any rewards.”

  Grant noted Tamara’s displeasure, but he knew what he was doing. Bonding was paramount before he and the guys could start a fruitful relationship; hence, his motivation to meet them in their comfort zone. He’d tossed a few ideas out to them about the angels and demons game. They’d collectively held back, awaiting criticism or rules for how to proceed. But after much coaxing, their unfiltered imagination and unrestrained passion had had a chance to develop and bear fruit. He understood at their age how much they’d be preoccupied with other people’s perceptions of them. He couldn’t wait to get them into a brainstorming session with his team. They would get a chance to see how creative professionals work.

  An orientation about the job and survival tips for a successful internship finished up the time that had been appointed for the guys.

  “Thank you very much, Mr. Benson.” Bill patted Grant on the shoulder. “You are the first owner who took the time to meet and sit with students before they go off to work.” He nodded. “I’m hoping that you won’t stop the internship with this group.”

  Grant didn’t know whether to nod or shake his head. He wanted success, too, but to commit to an ongoing program was a bit premature.

  Bill rounded up his ten teens and headed out to the bus.

  Grant was sure to shake each person’s hand as he boarded the bus. He wanted to make their lives better. With each handshake or fist bump, he forced each teen to look at him. As long as they were with him, they wouldn’t hold their head down, avert eye contact or mumble their responses or requests. They would create a brotherhood by watching each other’s back, lifting each other to the next level and keeping their eyes forward, not in the past.

  As the bus pulled off, he was under no illusion that they would all immediately do the right thing. They would be his responsibility during the day, while still being enrolled in their alternative schools. But to be honest, he couldn’t contain his excitement.

  How did Tamara stay detached? He’d accused her of taking them on for personal satisfaction. Quickly he’d realized that personal satisfaction wasn’t a crime. For all that he’d seen around him today, Tamara really deserved to have a sense of satisfaction.

  “One stupid move by any of those guys and they could be off that yellow school bus and on a state corrections bus.” Tamara sighed. She had taken the spot next to him as they watched the bus grow smaller in the distance.

  “That’s not going to happen,” he announced, even though he was feeling less confident with the guys no longer in front of him.

  “Don’t you two look like the doting parents?” Becky asked as she slipped in between them. “Your boys are gone only temporarily. No need for the sad faces.”

  “Don’t you have a plane to catch?” Tamara’s expression promised physical retribution. Grant did his best not to chuckle.

  “Grant, I’m being chased out of my place of employment. Anyway, good to see you again. I’ve got to head out for a few days to deal with family. Keep an eye on our girl.” Becky motioned with her chin over to Tamara.

  “I’m a grown woman,” Tamara protested. “Don’t need anyone to keep an eye on me.”

  Grant raised his hands in surrender. “And I’m not about to stand in the way of that declaration.”

  “Whatever. You both are playing that hard-to-get game. Why? I don’t know.” Becky shrugged. A smug smile played on her lips.

  “Good-bye, Becky.” Tamara pushed her friend toward her parked car. “Have a safe flight.”

  Becky got to her car and turned around. “Grant, Tamara, you know this means that I’m not around to walk in on any shenanigans. Feel free.” She jumped in her car as Tamara ran toward her. Grant gave in and laughed heartily at Becky’s wickedly funny sense of humor.

  Grant jangled the car keys in his pocket. He had managed to see Tamara two days in a row. His brain couldn’t seem to come up with a proper scenario to see her for a third day.

  Tamara returned from her jog across the parking lot. Only slightly out of breath, she asked, “Would you come home with me?”

  “Are you sure?” He had to ask, even if his shoulders waited to slump if she responded in the negative.

  She nodded.

  Grant returned the nod. Now if could get through tonight without suffering a heart attack.

  He drove behind Tamara, sometimes wishing that the traffic cameras didn’t impede their speed. The rush-hour traffic was some method of torture for a man who had sex on the brain. The main roads were clogged, but the side streets flowed, although the multitude of lights and cameras slowed the progress. Finally, they arrived at her place. They both found parking spots.

  Grant kept his nervousness to himself. What if he said the wrong thing and this, whatever was about to happen, got shut down? Nope. He’d sit on the couch and let Tamara drive this night to whatever destination she desired.

  “Make yourself comfortable.” She excused herself and headed to her bedroom.

  He walked to the couch and took a seat at the end. A few minutes later, he was finally able to ease back with his arm along the back of the couch. Still, he wasn’t quite ready to claim any sort of calmness. Deep down he knew that he was about to cross a major milestone from which he couldn’t return.

  With one horrendous relationship already in his history, he didn’t have any desire to get wrapped up in another emotionally draining disaster. He wasn’t the type to be pessimistic, but he also wasn’t the type to be delusional. No matter how many rules he had in place and how many times “no strings attached” had been declared, he had to protect himself from stepping over the line.

  Tamara emerged from her room. Damn it. How could he not break his own rules when she looked like that? Dressed casually in sweats and a T-shirt that did little to hide the curve of her breasts, flat abs and curvy hips, she walked past him and busied herself in the kitchen. He listened to her preparing glasses with ice and soda.

  He hadn’t thought he had a parched throat until he heard t
he soda being poured into the glass. What was wrong with him? Here he was acting like a teenager on a first date.

  “Thanks.” He took the glass and took a long drink.

  She sat next to him on the couch, sipping instead of guzzling her drink. “I want to propose something. I want to produce a documentary on the internship.”

  Grant froze with the glass in his hand. He frowned, leaning back into the couch. Nothing had prepared him for such a request—opening his life for a film.

  “I know you’re very private. But hear me out.”

  “Okay.” He set down the glass but still pulled back, paying close attention. His mind struggled to switch from what his expectations had been for the night to the big, fat question about filming his life.

  “I hadn’t planned this idea.” She turned her body toward him. “Our meeting this afternoon got me thinking. I think it’s got merit, so I wanted you to hear me out.”

  Grant felt the shift of her body, and the small movement shook him to the pit of his stomach. Tamara had a knack for keeping him slightly off-kilter.

  She continued. “I’d been reading the various reports about you and your company. I’ve also been reading your biography. I know, it’s not authorized, but it’s a great read.”

  Grant resisted. “How did we get from an internship to a documentary?”

  “We haven’t moved from one to the other. It’s still the same arrangement, only adding another element. This documentary would help you and me. Personally, I’d like to shut up some of those critics, both yours and mine.”

  The media circled around him, but he’d always chosen to ignore them and wanted to continue to do so. In stark contrast, Tamara seemed ready for a fight. Confidence emanated from her.

  “I know a good crew that will do a bang-up job. But featuring the guys—of course, we’ll go through the legal paperwork—will also highlight your company’s active role in the community.”

  “That doesn’t convince me. I don’t care what people think. I’m a computer game designer.”

 

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