Page 39 of Pure Abandon

Is he insinuating I don’t have class or wealth?

I feel like he’s putting on a show. As if he were saying, “See I can be a nice guy, but don’t forget, I am in charge here so if I don’t like what I hear, I can change it at any time.”

Nonetheless, my inner sparring warrior takes her stance. “With all due respect, the Philharmonic is impressive, but we should open the show with a bang or else the event will feel uptight and unwelcoming.”

Take that, Asher. I just called you uptight!

He looks at me with a smirk. “We don’t want to be uptight, Mrs. Monroe.” He takes out his cell phone. “I’ll call Crystalis. Her album is number one on the pop charts. I’ll tell her to perform at the gala after the Philharmonic.”

Crystalis is the current “Princess of Pop.” Her current single is being deemed the “song of the summer,” and since last year no one has been able to listen to the radio for more than twenty minutes without hearing one of her songs. Of course he would have one of the biggest talents in the world in his personal Rolodex.

Heather nearly leaps across the table. “Crystalis is performing in the park!”

Gretchen puts her hand on Heather’s forearm and gently guides her to sit back in her chair. Turning to Asher, Gretchen explains, “Her publicist agreed to the telecast. They would never let her do a benefactors’ gala with limited exposure.”

Asher finishes typing into this phone, which I can only assume is a text to one of the most famous women in America right now. He puts down the phone and sits back in his chair, looking directly at Gretchen and Heather, unaffected by their concerns. “She knows this is for the children. She will perform wherever she’s needed. She doesn’t need the coverage.”

Damn. Case closed.

Heather and Gretchen know there’s no use in arguing. Instead, Heather’s grimace sends negative vibes to my side of the table, and I try to shoo them away. It’s not my fault Asher gave me her performer. I wanted someone else.

Asher turns back to me and points to the document in his hands. “I liked your idea about giving seats to the kids. Give them more. You only allotted two hundred. Double that.”

Despite my surprise, I affirm vigorously. There are plenty of seats in the venue, and I know they haven’t all been sold out.

“You will also need to block time for a special performance. I’m working with a group of children who will be playing for the grand finale.” He pulls out the incomplete rundown sheet. “Give them four minutes.”

I look for Erik or someone else to interject, but they do not. “Um, that may be difficult. The event is only two hours. With commercial breaks, that leaves us with eighty minutes of airtime. Between the Philharmonic, Crystalis, the two other acts Gretchen booked, and the speeches that have to be made, you have no time left.”

You could hear a pin drop in the room. There are dozens of other people here, yet everyone is completely focused on the man to my left.

Including myself. Especially since there are dozens of other people here, his eyes are completely focused on mine.

He takes a beat, clearly thinking over the matter. My heart skips when he speaks again. Not because he’s intimidating me. It’s because his tone is sincere. “I want the kids to have four minutes. It’s important. Take a look at the rundown and see if you can move the timing around.” I let out a breath and look down at my notepad. I thought it was the end of discussion, but he speaks again and completely catches me off guard. “If anyone can make this happen, it’s you.”

If we weren’t in a room full of people, I would probably ask him what kind of game he’s playing, but I can’t. Not only because we’re in a room full or people, but also because I, for the first time, don’t think he’s playing a game.

Is it possible the bastard can be sincere about one thing in his life?

When the meeting ends, I grab my belongings and rush to my office. Between Asher and Heather, I need to get far away. There’s no doubt in my mind Heather is stomping her feet in front of Erik right now. I, on the other hand, am ecstatic. I have the number one performer in the country at my event. I’ll have to get a list of requirements from Gretchen and work with Harvey on her introduction.

I close the door behind me and start working on my notes from the meeting. I have calls to make and an itinerary to change. Oh, and the New York Philharmonic to book! Knowing I have the Asher name behind my back, I have no doubt they will make themselves available to perform.

I take a seat in my sleek leather chair and start typing away. I don’t hear the door open or hear him come in. I actually don’t know why I look up but there he is, leaning against my wall with his arms folded, staring at me.

“You don’t like my flowers?”

He has removed his tie and jacket since the meeting, leaving him in black slacks and a dress shirt, his sleeves rolled up. He looks relaxed, yet his eyes gleam, determined.

My body pulls a Trish and my leg starts bouncing under the glass table. Tucking a stray hair that has fallen out of my twist behind my ear, I try to appear as professional as possible. I offer a polite smile and fold my hands on the desk in front of me. “While they are exquisite, I’m afraid I cannot accept them.”

Keeping his eyes trained on me, he asks, “And why can’t you accept them?”

Keep your cool, Kat.

“They are rather inappropriate, Mr. Asher.”

“Why ever so formal, Mrs. Monroe? Pray tell, why are they inappropriate?” His lips turn up in an indecent grin.