Theo blinked slowly as if coming out of a trance before shooting her a knowing look. “Uh-huh. Find your sneakers. I’ll be at your house tomorrow at six-thirty a.m.,” he said. “Be ready.”
“I won’t be,” she snapped, miffed that the heels hadn’t closed the deal. The phone on her desk rang. She picked it up while staring Theo in the eyes. “You’ve reached Sal’s Birdland,” she said, daring him with a look to say anything. She listened for a minute. “Yes, I still work here, Mr. Kemper,” she sighed. “Sorry about that. I’ll put you through.” She pressed the button to send the call to Theo’s office phone.
“Sal’s Birdland?” Theoraised a brow.
She shrugged. “I like to keep ‘em guessing.” Theo turned away, and she thought of something. “Did you send me a new AC unit?” she asked suspiciously. The box had shown up at her door first thing this morning with no note. Her landlord wasn’t responsible for the window units, and she didn’t have the extra cash yet to spring for fixing it. As soon as she saw it, she had a feeling Theo was responsible. Her pride stung, but mostly she was grateful not to have to sleep in a sauna.
Theo raised a brow as if the question was preposterous and strode out of her office.
At four o’clock, she got her notepad and pen ready for the final meeting of the day. The agenda she had typed up earlier said they were discussing the Hope Gala. The annual event at the Grand River Hotel, another property owned by the Sterling family, was Theo’s largest annual fundraising effort that benefited the Maple Street Center for Domestic Violence, where Theo, Amber had just learned, sat on the board. Of all of Theo’s meetings, this was one she had a personal interest in.
“Thank you for coming, Edward, Cade.” Theo greeted them warmly. Edward Sterling was tall and broad, and his loud booming laugh fit his personality perfectly. His debonair blue gingham suit was fabulously flamboyant and faintly vintage. Amber half expected him to pull out a straw hat and twirl a cane like in the movies. She was smitten instantly.
“Neal, Theo, always good to see you,” Edward boomed. He shook Neal’s hand politely, but pulled Theo in for a hug, which Theo returned.
“And you, Miss Hart,” Edward turned, looking her up and down with a practiced eye. “Beautiful dress. It’s an Elie Saab, isn’t it?”
“No, I made it, but thanks,” she said, and laughed when Edward grabbed her hands and held them wide to admire her dress. She knew they were kindred spirits.
“You are just fabulous, my dear. My wife would pay good money to wear that.” He turned to the tall man behind him. “This is my son, Cade. Theo, I believe you and Cade went to Columbia together. Cade’s in town helping me get some things in order and keeping me on task.”
“It’s good to see you again, Cade,” Theo greeted the tall man next before leading Edward into the conference room, leaving her alone with Edward’s son.
It was safe to say Cade didn’t share his father’s boisterous personality. The tall, strikingly handsome man’s suit was just as expensive and professionally tailored, but Cade Sterling was the picture of cool reserve. When she finally made it to his eyes, Cade was smiling faintly at her. His eyes were a shade of green she had never seen before, light and piercing.
“Cade Sterling,” he murmured, holding out his hand. “We haven’t had the pleasure of meeting yet.”
“That’s a surprise. Amber’sverywell known around Northfield.” Neal’s voice dripped with insinuation. “Shall we?” He said it so quickly that by the time Amber absorbed the hit, Neal had turned into the conference room.
Embarrassment and anger stained her cheeks bright red when she caught Cade’s gaze. He was frowning after Neal, but Amber knew the game. While she couldn’t control the heat warming her face, she could control her outward reaction, and the best way to deal with men like Neal Barclay was never to let them see a weakness.
“After you,” she said, gesturing grandly toward the conference room. She held her smile firmly in place and lifted her chin high.
Cade seemed to understand and let it go. “Ladies first.”
For the next half hour, Amber took notes and fumed silently. Neal had never made it a secret how he felt about her, but to have him insinuate in front of a stranger that she was thetown slut had triggered a different fury. The injustice of it, the unfairness, stung deeply.
“The Hope Gala is our biggest fundraiser of the year, as you know,” Neal was saying. “The Grand River Hotel lends itself perfectly to a sit-down dinner with our usual art and antique auction. It was always quite successful for Theo’s father,” he added a touch smugly.
Amber bit the inside of her cheek. Of course, Neal would do the same tired gala he’d been putting on for years. Why wouldn’t he consider Northfield was changing, and that Theo was going to be left behind in the dust if he didn’t capture more than the same old demographic of voters? She fumed and doodled notes in her notebook while she listened.
She had been doing a stellar job of not rocking the boat since her first disastrous meeting where she had the audacity to share her ideas and was set in her place, but the longer she listened, the more she thought back to what Theo had said in her bed yesterday. Theo genuinely cared about Northfield, not only because he had a legacy to uphold, but because he had a vision for the town’s future.
No, she would keep her mouth shut like the good little assistant she was hired to be because she needed money more than she needed to be right.
But that wild streak that showed up at the most inopportune times in her life and got her in trouble had a mind of its own. She cleared her throat, and all the eyes in the room turned to her. She met Neal’s gaze and pulled out her most dazzling, glittery smile. He looked startled for a second, before wariness settled on his pinched features.
“I have an idea,” she started, her voice steadier than she felt. “Why not combine the two? Keep the traditional elegance of the gala but infuse it with the energy and fresh thinking that echo Theo’s campaign promise?”
She had their attention now, and with the innate sense of aperformer, she painted a picture. “You could have food stations with local restaurants that represent Northfield’s diverse culinary history, and live music from local bands throughout the night.” She was warming to the idea now, sitting on the edge of her seat. She shot a quick look at Edward and Cade, who looked interested, while Theo’s eyes remained unreadable.
“Instead of speeches, you could have interactive displays where guests could engage with Theo’s policies, and the whole thing could be live streamed to share on social media for everyone, not just the people that can afford the price of a ticket. That way, it’s not just a gala, it’s a statement of who Northfield is and what you stand for.”
The room was silent for a moment after she finished, and her stomach felt weightless. She didn’t want to look at Theo and see dismissal or, worse, polite interest, especially after baring her soul to him the day before about her fear of success.
She’d taken a risk, and even if it didn’t pay off, she knew it was a good idea. She knew it the way she knew color and patterns, deep in her soul. She sat back and waited with her heart in her throat.
Suddenly, Edward clapped loudly and enthusiastically in the silent room. “By God, I think that’s brilliant! Think of the buzz that would create, and how many new people you could reach. Of course, it’s up to you, Theo, but the Grand River Hotel would love to host an event like this.”
