Chances Are

“Of course it will. You just need to have a little faith.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Did you make out okay with Kisha and Theresa?”

Betsy waved her hand in dismissal. “Those two were so excited, I almost couldn’t get them out of here for school and Theresa off to that special reading test.”

Dione smiled, then checked her watch. “I’d better get upstairs.” She turned to go.

“I know something’s bothering you, Dione,” Betsy said, halting Dione’s exit. “Let it go. Everything will work out. Always has.”

Dione nodded, wanting to believe. But it had always been hard for her to have blind faith, ceaseless hope. She couldn’t depend on the intangible things—things she couldn’t see, couldn’t touch. Hopes and dreams dissolved, like mist burned off after the morning sunrise. She couldn’t trust emotion, only reality. Emotion got you in trouble. Made you stop thinking with your head. She couldn’t afford that. Emotion had cost her once, she couldn’t let it cost her again. Especially now.

Garrett slowed to a stop in front of the building and checked the address against the one written on the slip of paper. Frowning, he leaned closer to the passenger window and checked again. His gaze ran up and down the well-kept brownstone, the curtains and blinds that lined the oversized windows.

This couldn’t be the place. Maybe he’d gotten the address wrong. But he was pretty sure he hadn’t. This was a shelter? His vision of a shelter was nothing like what was in front of him. Probably just a front, he concluded. They couldn’t very well have an eyesore in the center of this middle-class neighborhood. He was certain the inside would meet his expectations.

He shut off the car, took his portfolio from the passenger seat and got out.

By the time Dione reached the main floor, she spotted Garrett through the glass-and-oak door, and was once again seized with a gentle wave of caressing heat, her earlier frustration soothed and massaged away.

She took a breath and unlocked the door, putting on her best, happy-to-see-you smile.

“Right on time,” she greeted, stepping aside to let him pass. She caught a whiff of his cologne.

“That’s just one of my many attributes.” He gave her that dimpled smile and tugged off his Chicago Bulls baseball cap.

For a moment their gazes connected and Dione had the strangest feeling that he wasn’t talking about his filming talents.

Chapter 6

Garrett followed Dione into the corridor, taking surreptitious glances around the interior, only to discover that the inside, at least as much of it as he could see, lived up to the outside.

But it was Dione who caught and commanded his attention. He hadn’t stopped thinking about her since they’d met. He seemed to be able to hear the hushed timbre of her voice in his dreams. Her scent, so soft, subtle, yet intoxicating had stayed with him seeping into his pores. And now, the whisper of her stockings brushing against her long legs as she walked, the click of her heels and the gentle wave of her hips seemed to have him mesmerized. Why? He’d seen and been with plenty of women. What was it about her that intrigued him, sparked his curiosity?

“Let me take you to meet Brenda Frazier,” she said, interrupting his meandering thoughts.

He blinked, bringing reality back into focus. He was in a well-kept building in a decent neighborhood, that appeared to be efficiently run. But the bottom line was, no matter what it looked like, no matter what window dressing you put on it, all it was, all it could ever be was a shelter for irresponsible girls and their illegitimate children. He had to remember that. Looks were deceiving.

He frowned as the old pain twisted in his chest. Did he really want this grant so badly that he was willing to deal with all the memories and the hurt that was certain to come with it? Maybe he should just let Jason take over the project.

“Brenda Frazier, this is Garrett Lawrence. Ms. Frazier is the assistant director of the facility.”

Assistant director. Hmm. They’d thought she was just a pesky secretary, stonewalling them. If she was on a par with other assistant directors, she had some pull, some say-so about things. And from the no-nonsense look in her eyes, she was not one to be fooled with. You wanted her on your side.

Brenda came from behind her desk and extended her hand. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“So you’re the face behind the voice.”

Brenda’s smile was slow, almost wary. “I hope that’s a good thing.”

“Absolutely,” he grinned, flashing those dimples.

He turned toward Dione. “Ready for that tour?”

“We can start downstairs.”

Dione took him down to day care, which doubled as their meeting room, which was full of the sounds of active children running, playing and wailing for attention. It took all Dione had not to burst out laughing when she introduced him to Betsy who all but batted her eyes at him. After a brief show-and-tell of the uses for the huge basement space, they went upstairs and he took a quick peek at Kisha’s and Theresa’s apartments.

“Are all the apartments like this?” he asked having a hard time believing that this was the type of environment the girls lived in. He felt like he was on a movie set that had been staged especially for him. Any moment now, someone would call “cut” and they’d take down the props and he’d see the skeletons in the closet.

Dione closed the door to Theresa’s apartment. “Yes.” She laughed lightly and he realized he liked the sound. “Some more well-kept than others, I’m sad to say. But they’re all one bedroom, fully equipped and furnished when the families move in.”

“Pretty lucky.”

Dione snatched his sarcastic tone right out of the air and tossed it back at him. “I wouldn’t call what these girls go through luck, Mr. Lawrence.”

“What would you call it?” he taunted, suddenly feeling combative. “I mean, here they are, all their needs met, free room and board, built-in babysitter. Ha, it’s almost as if they’re being rewarded for going out and getting pregnant.”

Dione’s eyes flared and she could feel the heat of a nasty volley rise up from the pit of her stomach ready to jump up and smack him dead across his self-righteous face. How many times had she done battle with his type of twisted thinking? More times than she cared to count. Some battles she lost, but there were many more that she’d won. Education was the key and Mr. Garrett Lawrence was in serious need of Awakening 101, straight from the head teacher.

“It’s unfortunate that you feel that way, Mr. Lawrence. I would think that as a professional you’d have to go into every new project with an open mind in order to get the most out of it and not have the work tainted by preconceived notions. I’m hopeful that your time with us here will be enlightening.” She took a breath and put on her best smile. “That’s about it for the tour, and I have a ton of work, as I’m sure you do as well. If you’ll let Brenda know what you need for the public service announcement and when we can get started, I’d appreciate that.” She stuck out her hand.

Reluctantly he took it. He was being dismissed. He would have laughed, but it wasn’t funny.

“Thank you for stopping by.” She ushered him toward the door of the main office. “Bren, Mr. Lawrence needs to give you some information.” She flashed him a smile and had an instant of satisfaction from the stunned look on his face. “Have a good day.” She turned and went downstairs.

For a moment he felt as if he’d been sent to sit in the corner. He could barely concentrate on what he needed to tell this woman in front of him for thinking about Dione and her ability to totally detach herself and make him feel two inches tall, and all with a dazzling smile.

“What day did you want to start?”

Garrett finally focused on Brenda’s patient “he’s slow” expression.

“At least by next week. You, or whoever is going to write it, need to write up a sixty-second script. Say whatever you think will get people to stand up and take notice.”

He heard footsteps in the hall and turned his head toward the door, hoping it would be Dione. It wasn’t.

Returning his attention to Brenda, he noticed she’d replaced her “he’s slow” expression with “now you’re getting on my nerves and I’m trying to be nice.”

“I really think I should explain all of this to Ms. Williams. Especially since—”

She cut him right off. “Dione is very busy. I can assure you, Mr. Lawrence I’m quite capable of delivering the information. If she has any questions, she’ll call you.”

Just how many times would he get stung in one day? Did everyone in this place have the knack for putting you in deep check with the arch of a brow, or a turn of a phrase all done with a smile?

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.