Not taking his calls was difficult, but she knew she had to wean herself off him. If she kept herself busy, she thought of him only during waking hours. By the time she slept, she was too exhausted to remember any dreams.
She wasn’t worried about missing any important updates on the documentary. He could go through her assistant for business-related matters. The call went to voice mail. She pressed the icon to play the message.
“Tamara, this is Deanna Rushgrove in the human resources department at Benson Technologies. I think there may be a problem. Your interns didn’t show up today for work. And I just got a call from Bill Stevenson that due to altercations among some of the guys, a few will no longer be participating in the program.”
“Tamara, Mr. Stevenson is on the phone.”
“Put him through.” Tamara couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Mr. Stevenson, what on earth is going on?”
“A major fight broke out among the guys. And you know we have a zero-tolerance policy for fighting. Three guys have been expelled from the program and a hearing is scheduled to determine if they will remain at Miller-Brown.”
“There must have been a good reason.” Tamara would grasp at any straws to save her students. “They had been doing so well. Grant said they are all learning quickly. When they came in they were looking wild, lacked discipline and complained a lot. Now that they have incentives from Grant, they’ve been working as a team.” She realized that she was rambling and forced herself to remain silent.
“Doesn’t matter. I just wanted to let you know. I called Mr. Benson to make him aware of the situation. Tomorrow the rest of the group can return. I’m as disappointed as you are, Miss Wendell.”
Tamara had known that every day was a tightrope walk with the guys. Emotions, egos and simple teenage hormones could get them in trouble in the blink of an eye. She said good-bye and hung up with Mr. Stevenson, then tossed aside the pen that she had been using to scribble notes and dropped her head into her hands.
“What are you going to do?” she asked herself out loud.
Tamara looked at a framed photo of the guys on their first day at work. No way was she giving up.
“Mitzy, can you get Greta to step in for me? I’ll need the afternoon sessions covered. I’ve got a plan, but I have no idea how long it may take for me to get what I want.”
Mitzy chuckled. “They don’t know who they are messing with.”
“I promise to play nice.”
“Good luck.”
“I’ll need it.” She grabbed her car keys and headed out the door.
On the way to Benson Technologies, she placed the necessary call to Grant. She couldn’t do this without his help. Hopefully, he’d want to help, although she had been dodging any contact with him for several days. No time to think of any backlash from Grant. Her students needed his help.
These guys had so much potential. One good thing about the fight was that it hadn’t happened on the company’s grounds. But the liability of having wayward youth among the staff must give HR nightmares. She didn’t want their doubts about this program to resurface.
While she needed Grant to help her with her plan to get the guys back into the program, Tamara first needed to know that he still believed in the program. Her decision to not speak to him and put distance between them couldn’t have happened at a worse time. She took a deep breath when she pulled up at Benson Technologies and saw that Grant was already waiting for her.
Tamara looked around the parking lot. “You know it might not be safe to stand around like that?”
“Expect someone to kidnap me?” Grant scoffed.
Tamara nodded. “Or carjack.” The man couldn’t seem to get it through his head that he couldn’t go around unaware of his surroundings. She’d also rather scold him than deal with her other overwhelming emotions, which felt like just a constant loop of intensity and vulnerability.
As usual, Grant looked beyond fine. She knew what lay beneath the polo shirt that hung loosely over his khaki pants. Those hands, with long tapered fingers, had once stroked her skin like soft velvet, enticing her to an array of delicious, sensual pleasures.
“The day that I can’t walk around and do what I want, then that’s the day to pack it all in. I’m a no-fuss, no-frills kind of man.”
“Well, someone down-to-earth is always appreciated.”
“People don’t give a darn about me. They care about the product—that’s a good thing. I’m not complaining.”
“You’re selling yourself short. I know ten guys who already hold you up as their role model.”
“They shouldn’t.”
“That sounds ominous,” she responded.
Seconds ticked as the silence surrounded them. There was something that he was hiding. She’d felt it before and dismissed it, but she wouldn’t let it go this time.
“Tell me what happened,” Tamara said. She knew that he could retreat and shut her out, but she had to try.
Grant sucked in his breath through clenched teeth. His jaw worked as indecision warred quite visibly on his face.
She lost sight of his face when he turned to face the car window. Nothing about his shoulders was relaxed. The longer he remained silent, the more alarmed she got that his secret had enough power to erect a defensive wall against anyone, including her.
“Let’s just get to the home,” he said at last.
Not quite what she wanted to hear. He joined her in her car and they sped off to their destination. There was no time to coax any information from him.
She pulled in the parking lot of Miller-Brown and switched off the engine. “What’s our plan?”
“To get these guys—all of them—back at Benson Technologies.” Grant looked at her. “Ready to sway some minds?”
“Always.”
He laughed.
Tamara wanted this to work more than anything she’d ever wanted. She kept her reasons close to her heart, knowing that her secrecy with Grant was a bit hypocritical. But he didn’t need to know her turmoil. All he needed to know was that she had the best of intentions.
They were granted immediate access to the director’s office. Tamara and Grant took their seats to face Mr. Stevenson, who looked ready to battle them.
Although they hadn’t devised a specific game plan, Tamara opted to play sidekick and allow Grant to use his quiet but firm nature to take hold. But if that didn’t work, she wasn’t beyond using tears and full-out begging to get what she wanted.
* * *
Grant saw the subtle shift in Tamara’s posture as she slid back in the chair. Her gaze shifted from him to Stevenson, clearly giving him the go-ahead to proceed.
“Mr. Stevenson, first, let me say thank you for allowing the guys to participate in this program. I wasn’t a keen supporter when Tamara came to me.”
“I had to get creative to get him to listen,” Tamara interjected.
They all shared a short laugh.
Grant proceeded. “But I did change my mind. And I’m glad that I did.”
“Mr. Benson, let me stop you for a second.” Stevenson held up his hand. “I am in charge of kids with a wide range of social dysfunctions. I can’t have a facility where rules cover one child and not another.”
“But what you do with this out-program is also unique and has been running well for almost a year. It’s a learning process for all of us, especially the kids,” Tamara piped in.
Grant took the relay baton, and added, “I can vouch for the change that I’ve seen in this group. Within weeks, they have shown a level of maturity and responsibility that makes me proud.”
He observed the firm set of Stevenson’s mouth. But he also sensed Tamara’s panic beginning to grow. She looked at him, silently passing on her message for him to do something.
“Let’s not go
back and forth. May I see them?” Grant asked.
Stevenson looked surprised. Good. Grant had no idea what he was going to say or do. It was important to stay one step ahead of the director so he couldn’t anticipate their argument.
Grant felt his heart pounding as he followed the director down a hallway that opened to several rooms, including larger conference rooms. He was still operating from gut instinct. He hoped that his inner voice continued leading him in the right direction.
He would do whatever was necessary to talk to them, get through to them, in order for them to regain the trust of the director. How far would he go? However far he needed to get them back.
He felt Tamara at his shoulder. A part of him wanted to pull away from her before she could pull away from him again. But that would be an issue for later.
The guys walked into the room, single file and solemn. They stood close together, ten strong. They glanced at him, but no one held eye contact for long. He sensed that Tamara was ready to fidget at his side. He hoped she’d read his body language to stay calm.
Grant took a deep breath. Time to channel his father from back in the days of his own youthful rebellion. He’d see that vein pop in the middle of his father’s forehead and know that he was in deep, deep trouble. He hoped the director would let him scare the boys straight.
Every group had a leader, whether they picked one or one naturally emerged. Frederick, the tallest and eldest, had that honor. Each group also had the “baby” of the group, the one who brought out the protective nature of the alphas. Graham was this group’s “baby” since he had a tiny stature and was known for being mouthy.
“What happened?” Grant barked out the question. Just to be sure that they understood, he pinned Frederick with a hard, cold look.
The young man stepped forward. His mouth was tight, chin jutted forward. No remorse was visible.
“Cut the attitude, kid,” Stevenson warned.
Youthful rebellion was in full swing, as Frederick didn’t change his attitude one bit.
Grant snapped his fingers to get back his attention. “I’m waiting. What happened?”
“Since we started at Benson Technologies, guys in here at the home have been giving us grief. We expected that. No biggie.” He emphasized with a flick of his hand. “Then this newbie comes in and tries to get respect from everyone else by messing with us. Plus he’s one of them rich boys gone bad. He thinks that he should have been picked for the internship.”
Grant didn’t need a crystal ball to know this scenario was a powder keg.
“Every day, he pecked like a hen at us. Then he started jostling, bumping shoulders.”
“Did you tell anyone?” Tamara asked, with a hopeful lilt.
But Grant knew that answer, too.
Sure enough, Frederick shook his head.
“Why?” Tamara’s voice raised a pitch.
Grant wanted to probe further, but he held back, allowing her the floor. She’d brought him in to help, not to take over.
Frederick responded, thumping his chest. “In here, we take care of each other.”
“No, I do that,” Mr. Stevenson corrected.
Their collective response to the director’s declaration was clear. They hunched their shoulders and tuned out.
Tamara grumbled, removing herself to one side.
Grant motioned with his hand to continue.
“We can handle it.” Frederick swung around and the arc of his arm encompassed most of the guys, except the last three. “But rich boy and his boys did a divide-and-conquer move that night on those three—the youngest. Some guys came and told the rest of us what happened. We had to take care of business, that night or some other night.”
“Busted noses, cracked ribs, black eyes.” The director listed the injuries.
Grant eyed the three who were expelled. A few black-and-blue marks, but otherwise they seemed to have come out of the fight to the advantage.
“Didn’t you realize that once you threw a punch, you were done with the program?” Tamara asked the question to which they all knew the answer.
Frederick nodded. “We live here. Going to work is like a breath of fresh air. It’s what we hope we can do when we’re on our own and out of the system without the curfew and rules. Until then, at the end of the day, we’re here. Night after night, we get tested by those who don’t care about your program.” He pointed to Tamara. “Don’t care about the rules.” He pointed to Stevenson. “Don’t care if someone wants to give a second chance.” He looked straight at Grant. “Some days I can brush it off. I’m the oldest. I made my mistakes and yet, Miss Tamara didn’t think that I was too old to save.” He tilted his head toward Grant. “And you told us about your demons and how you came through. So, we are listening.”
If Tamara’s gaze could touch him, Grant imagined it would burn right through him. Maybe it was best that everything had come out on the table. Another milestone to be experienced with Tamara.
“Mr. Stevenson, is there any way that if I vouch for them and the work they’ve done for the company that we can make an exception?” Grant refused to surrender to the director’s decision.
“I will vouch for them, too,” Tamara spoke softly.
“We have a committee who makes these rules. They are not policies that have no meaning. These are the same kids that the schools, the community, the public want punished.”
“I understand, Director.” Grant dragged his hand over his head. He struggled to keep his frustration under wraps. “I’m not saying that rules shouldn’t be upheld. I can’t justify what they did. I can only tell you that, as someone who was once standing where they stand, I would want someone to fight on my behalf and to keep on fighting.”
The silence hovered, heavy, poignant and full of questions.
“I had everything but still wanted more. I wanted respect. Computer nerd wasn’t a label that I embraced, even if it matched me exactly. So I joined up with a street gang.”
Grant heard Tamara’s soft no of disbelief.
“The group didn’t operate overtly like a gang. Instead, they just seemed like some guys who were all about leadership activities and mentoring. It was a regular band of brothers.
“First we hung out, going to movies, hanging out at parties, playing video games. Then some older guys got involved and took over. Suddenly we were doing what they suggested, and they were calling all the shots.
“It started small with petty crimes. Then they introduced some of the willing guys to stealing cars. One day I was picked up at my house by one of the guys. We were going over to another guy’s house for a party. Don’t know what triggered the cops to check the car, but we got pulled over.
“Instead of pulling over, the driver hit the gas and we took off. I can’t begin to tell you what I felt for fifteen minutes of a high-speed chase. Then we clipped a car and went flipping over and over. The driver was thrown from the car. I was anchored in by my seat belt, but I injured my neck and lost feeling in my legs for months.
“Short story—the car was stolen. Drugs in the trunk. My father was this close to letting me suffer through jail and take my chances.” He held up his thumb and index finger to emphasize the slim chance.
“My mother stepped up and got a good lawyer. Proved that I had no intention to do anything because I expected to be back within minutes. I had a scheduled tutoring session, which was the only thing that saved my butt with the law...but not with my father.”
His angel, an elderly woman with a kind face and gentle voice whom he’d never seen before, had arrived on the scene that horrendous night. She’d stooped low to the wreckage of the car and stayed at his side, holding his bloody hand, comforting him until the ambulance and police had arrived. He’d asked about her when the paramedics came, but they said no one had been there. Plus, they’d had to pry open
the door, so no one could have been at his side, much less holding his hand. But he didn’t care what they’d said. He knew what he’d heard and seen. From that day on, he’d turned around his life.
“Guys, do you want to continue?” Grant asked.
“Yes.” Their voices echoed in a chorus.
“Can you swear that you will allow the administration to intervene before you make a move against another kid?” The boys all nodded. Grant turned to the director. He wanted to gauge if there was any change, any softening up, that could work in his favor with Stevenson.
Tamara stepped closer to him. Her arm brushed against his and then came to rest on it. He resisted every urge not to seek the warmth of her hand. He wanted to slip his palm against hers and intertwine their fingers.
It meant so much to him that she hadn’t shunned him after his revelation.
“Boys, Mr. Benson, Miss Wendell, I will request of the committee that they reverse the decision...this time. I hope that I don’t come to regret this.”
Chapter 13
“Pizza is served.” Grant brought a large pie covered with colorful vegetables and pepperoni onto his backyard deck.
“Smells delicious.” Tamara held out her plate as he served her two slices. “You’re spoiling me.” She waited until he was seated next to her with his slice of pizza. “You know, this view is marvelous.”
“As if the view from your penthouse isn’t,” Grant teased. “Plus I think the company is better than the view.”
“Maybe.” She made a face at him. “With Becky back in town and a bit sad that she didn’t run off with her hip hop star, I’m homeless for the night. Wanted to give her some space to mourn. I’m not her favorite BFF at the moment.”
Grant softly rubbed her cheek. “Not too many things worse than a heartbreak.”
“Depends. I’ve got regrets that hurt as badly as a heartbreak.”
Grant observed the sadness on Tamara’s face that always seemed to be just below the surface.
“You’ve got a great bunch of kids. And you’ve got me.”
Passionate Game (Kimani Hotties) Page 14
