RSVP with Love

by Sandra Kitt

  “Chloe Jackson,” Kevin murmured, almost to himself as he stood beside her at his office door. “The name does sound familiar. Class of 1999?”

  “Yes.”

  He narrowed his gaze on her. “Did we know each other?”

  Chloe gave him what she hoped was a mysterious smile, one that didn’t give away any of what she was feeling or remembering.

  “In a way,” she said, walking past him and out of the office.

  Chapter 2

  After Chloe left, Kevin leaned out his office door to speak with Peg. “Call Kyra Dixon at Hollington for me.”

  He didn’t wait for his assistant’s response but returned to his office. He walked behind his desk and peered out the window, scanning up and down the street. He caught sight of Chloe as she crossed the street to a parking lot and handed over her ticket to the attendant. While she waited for her car, Kevin took his time studying her from a distance.

  She was tall and slender and stylish but in an understated way. As if she didn’t want to be noticed too much, or distract from the business at hand. She had a softly curved body. No part of her rolled, or bounced, or jiggled or swished. She walked with grace, and everything about her said “lady.”

  It wasn’t a term he used often for women he knew, Kevin considered dryly, which was too bad. Because he always remembered his Nana Mame telling him to honor his own self-worth, not to settle for less than he wanted or less than he deserved. Kevin always knew his grandmother’s sage advice to him had been in part to remind him that he could be much more than his own father. A self-absorbed man whose ego and libido made him irresponsible, selfish and a ne’er-do-well. He’d deserted his wife, two daughters and baby son when Kevin was barely three years old. He hadn’t seen the man more than a dozen times since.

  There was a part of him that always wondered, every time his attention was drawn to any woman, what would Nana Mame think of her? But his beloved grandmother had passed away in April, leaving Kevin with an even stronger determination that he would not disappoint her. He would not let her or his mother’s expectations of him go unjustified.

  He took a deep breath as his thoughts shifted back to the lovely lady waiting for her car. Chloe also didn’t fall under the glamorous, hot, booty call or babe headings. As a matter of fact, he would say that her feminine mannerisms seemed cultivated and displayed almost like a defense.

  Her shoulder-length hair was combed slightly off center and fell in soft, very loose curls. She wore no makeup that he could tell but he decided that, except for maybe lip gloss or blush, Chloe Jackson didn’t need any. That made her look younger than he knew her to be. And no other women he knew would chance wearing light-colored linen at the height of a Georgia summer when the humidity promoted wrinkles, distortion and stains. Chloe was absolutely eye-catching in her dress, managing to look fresh, pulled together and in charge. If she intended her simple attire not to draw attention to herself, she failed.

  She suddenly pulled out a pair of oversize sunglasses that only added to her allure. Why was she hiding? She waited patiently for her car to be brought to her, taking a quick moment to consult her PDA before dropping it back into her purse. When the car pulled up next to her, she smiled demurely at the attendant, passed him a tip and sat behind the steering wheel, swinging her long shapely legs in. The action caused her dress to hike up her thighs, and she took the time to pull it straight before closing her car door. Then she was driving out of the lot, and away.

  “Chloe Jackson,” Kevin murmured again under his breath, as if saying her name out loud might conjure up some memory. If she graduated in his class he was sure the details would come to him sooner or later.

  One thing he knew for certain. She was not a former girlfriend. No way would he have forgotten her. He was already wondering how he ever could have missed her on campus.

  The phone rang on his desk, and he picked it up on the first ring.

  “Kyra, hey. It’s Kevin Stayton. Yeah, it’s been a long time. Pretty good, and yourself? Good. Before I forget, congratulations on your appointment at Hollington. Yeah, I want to hear all about it sometime. Chloe Jackson was here. Just left.” He chuckled. “No, I can’t say that I remember her but, yeah, she got what she wanted. I didn’t put up much of a fight. Her plan was good. We’re getting together tomorrow to work out the details of the contract. Listen, I have a favor to ask.” He sat down in his chair again. “Tell me everything you know about Chloe. Who did she run with in school?”

  Kevin sat back to listen, draining the rest of the mineral water Chloe had given him.

  Chloe read the initialed clauses again and, finding no fault with the language, added hers next to the KS for Kevin Stayton. She signed and dated the contract at the bottom and gathered all the copies.

  “That was easy,” Kevin said, sitting casually opposite Chloe at the table in her small meeting room.

  “Yes, it did go well,” she sighed, finally offering a smile that indicated her satisfaction. Still she glanced at him with a bit of lingering hesitation. “Are you sure you’re okay with the club being used until 2:00 a.m.?”

  “Hey. It was you who convinced me that the folks would want to party hearty till all hours. I really do want everyone to have a good time. These are our classmates,” Kevin added dramatically.

  Chloe chuckled quietly. “Thanks. I’ll take the agreement over to the college later and have everything signed in the finance department. I should be able to get you your set tomorrow. Is that okay?”

  Kevin pursed his lips and shrugged. “No rush. I understand you need to move forward with other arrangements, so don’t wait until I have my copy in hand. I trust you to honor what we’ve agreed to.”

  Chloe glanced at him. “That’s big of you.”

  “No, just smart. Neither of us wants to get bogged down in technicalities at this point. If I need to pull off the kid gloves later, I will.”

  Chloe put the contracts inside a Lucite binder and stood up. “That wasn’t a threat, was it?” she asked with an expression of feigned shock.

  Kevin stood as well. “No, ma’am. But business is business. Even with old college classmates.”

  Chloe nodded. “Fair enough. I don’t plan on disappointing you.”

  Kevin, whose expression had been one of mild amusement throughout their discussion, an indication that he was enjoying sparring with her, now studied her silently for a moment in calm appraisal.

  “No. I don’t believe you will.”

  Chloe realized that with their business taken care of, the discussion, their meeting, was over. She neatly organized her papers, trying to avoid looking directly at him as he silently studied her. But from the moment he’d arrived at her office he’d managed to disrupt the routine, the flow of efficiency, the very air, with his presence and friendly demeanor. He’d always been good at being the center of attention. She realized she was no less susceptible to his charm. And if she’d never lost her head when she was a young, naive coed, it certainly wasn’t going to happen now.

  It began with the dropped-open-jaw staring of Lynette, the receptionist, when Kevin breezed through the double glass doors of RSVP two hours ago. Chloe had detected the stir when she’d glanced out her office at the excitement he was creating. Then her assistant, Franco, could not contain himself from rhapsodizing over one of Kevin’s cafés, a small unpretentious place called What It Is. Kevin, to his credit, had accepted the greetings with brief smiling patience, but had cut it short by announcing he was there to see her.

  Chloe had to admit she’d liked that.

  He was dressed comfortably in a pair of stylish Dolce & Gabanna taupe-colored slacks, worn with a black short-sleeved shirt that made him look cool and composed. And, she noticed that he was wearing those same soft leather loafers that had been discarded by his desk the day before when he’d gone out running. He still sported that unshaved, but intriguingly handsome, face from the day before as well, clearly a personal style.

  “So,” Kevin said now, rubbi
ng his hands together as he regarded her. “Are we cool?”

  “I think so,” Chloe said and nodded. “I’m really grateful that you’ve agreed to this, Kevin.”

  “Well, you can show your gratitude by having lunch with me.”

  “Lunch?” Chloe asked blankly. The very idea created a flutter in her stomach. “Well…I…No, I don’t think so. I have work to do.”

  He tilted his head and did not give the appearance of a man who’d been turned down. “You do eat, don’t you? I can see not much, but still…”

  Chloe sighed, trying not to smile or be persuaded by his potent charm. “Yes, but not with clients.”

  “Aah, but you see, I’m not a client. I’m a former classmate. We studied together. Rooted for the Hollington Lions together. I’m sure we even broke bread together,” he ended on a hopeful note.

  She grinned at him. “Not.”

  He laughed.

  Chloe was about to present another excuse when Kevin suddenly turned to the door, opened it and looked out. “Good, you’re here.”

  “What’s going on?” Chloe asked, suspicious.

  “I had a feeling you were going to say no, so I’ve brought lunch to you. Now, you’re not going to make a fool out of me and kick me out, or sit and watch me eat alone, are you?”

  “Kevin, I really think—”

  “Chloe, don’t think. This is only lunch, not another contract negotiation. Now, would you like to eat here, or shall we go sit in the courtyard atrium?”

  Chloe looked at him, trying to discern his game plan, trying to stop second-guessing herself. Trying to control a sudden inordinate, if cautious, pleasure that he was being so charmingly persistent. So far Kevin had given her no reason to hold him suspect, and perhaps it would be unfair to use the tabloid gossip and paparazzi exposure against him as well. Chloe had to admit, the idea of an informal surprise picnic lunch had won her over.

  “Where do you want this?”

  Chloe’s gaze shifted from Kevin’s questioning expression to a tall broad Black man with a shaved head who now appeared over his shoulder.

  “CB.” Kevin inclined his head to indicate the man. “Ms. Chloe Jackson.”

  “Ms. Jackson,” CB acknowledged formally with a slight bow.

  He carried a heavy canvassed tote bag with rawhide fittings and handles that was neatly packed, the top opening covered with a cloth napkin.

  Kevin wasn’t giving in. He silently raised his brows and continued to wait for her answer.

  “The atrium,” Chloe said finally.

  Kevin smiled, not triumphantly but with real pleasure.

  Chloe had never considered sitting in the atrium of her downtown Atlanta office building before, let alone having lunch at one of the two-dozen bistro tables that dotted the flagstone deck. Even in the height of summer the area was cool and pleasant, placed among a man-made forest of trees that also provided shade. In the three years since she’d started her event and party planning business, RSVP, her time, attention and money had all gone into promoting and marketing her business, hiring talented and reliable staff. Cultivating new customers and making the right kinds of contacts. She wasn’t about to admit to Kevin that she usually combined lunch with business meetings. It saved time, the relaxed setting more conducive to people signing a contract with her. But that was hardly the case now with Kevin. Chloe was avoiding accepting the fact that she was enjoying herself.

  They had just begun eating when Kevin’s cell phone chimed with a popular musical ring tone. He answered and was several sentences into his conversation when he happened to look at her. He correctly read her aloof expression.

  “Listen, I’d love to catch up, but I can’t talk with you right now…I’m having lunch with a friend.” He suddenly chuckled. “No, you don’t know who it is and I’m not talking. Later.” He hung up but made no further reference to the call. He set his cell on silent after that.

  She occasionally glanced around the atrium, and there were couples and groups of workers, shoppers and people just enjoying a lovely place to sit and relax. It was surprisingly quiet and each table was afforded reasonable privacy for conversation. Chloe knew that she would use the space more often in the future, even if she ate alone.

  At one point she spotted a woman who was clearly out of place in the setting. Of average height, she was thin, poorly dressed in jeans and layered in sweaters. They were far too heavy for the summer heat and too oversize for her frame, as if the clothes were hand-me-downs. The woman was standing near one of the porticos of the atrium, pacing. She wasn’t bothering anyone, although she did draw curious glances with her odd appearance. Chloe herself would have given her only a passing glance, but the woman at times seemed to be staring at her.

  Kevin finished his glass of iced tea, deliberately slurping the remains through the ice at the bottom. The sounds distracted Chloe back to her lunch companion. She shook her head but smiled at Kevin’s obvious attempts to get her attention.

  He put his glass down and wiped his hands with one of the cloth napkins that were packed with their lunch. The delicious meal consisted of chicken salad, warm sliced sourdough bread, a container of chilled watermelon chunks and the tea, all made at Kevin’s restaurant, Flavor.

  “Thank you for providing such a wonderful lunch. It was thoughtful, and everything was perfect.”

  “I’m glad you liked it,” he said graciously. “Am I forgiven for tricking you into joining me?”

  Chloe stirred her straw in her drink. “I have a feeling you wouldn’t have taken no for an answer. I hope I didn’t seem so disagreeable about it,” she murmured.

  “Not at all. I understand that you like to keep the demarcation line clear between business and friendship. But it’s not like we’re strangers, right? This is our tenth anniversary.”

  Chloe couldn’t help but laugh at his unique twist on the circumstances of their relationship.

  Simultaneously they began to wrap up the remains of lunch and repack the tote bag, working smoothly together. Lunchtime was over, and the atrium was now more than half-empty. Even the curious woman had gone.

  “So, who else are you recruiting to help with the October weekend, besides me and Kyra?” Kevin asked.

  “Well, I’d love to have Beverly Clark ride in Sunday’s parade as the homecoming queen again, but she seems reluctant.”

  “I know Beverly. She’s a lovely lady. But the last few years have been kind of rough on her.”

  “Yes, so Kyra hinted. Anyway, Kyra said that she and Beverly were best friends, so maybe she can persuade Beverly to change her mind.”

  “Do you remember Micah Ross?”

  “Oh, yes. Micah and I were friendly in school. I was always running to him with my computer problems. And I got to hear some of his romantic woes. Poor Micah. He was so shy.”

  Suddenly, CB appeared again and silently removed the tote bag that held their lunch.

  “Anything else?” he asked Kevin politely.

  “I’ll just be a few more minutes,” Kevin said.

  CB nodded but smiled silently to Chloe before walking away carrying the bag. Chloe’s curiosity got the better of her.

  “Is CB your…driver?” she guessed.

  Kevin grinned but shook his head. Chloe was also aware of a light frown that momentarily passed between his brows.

  “No, not my driver. CB is…I guess you can say he’s my assistant. We started out together in my first business. He showed up one day looking for work, and he was willing to do anything and help anywhere. His biggest talent is that he’s reliable, honest and discreet. He’s helped me out of some, shall we say, difficult situations.”

  “I bet,” Chloe said dryly.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” Kevin said smoothly. “But you’d be surprised at the kind of troubles that seem to find you when you have a business and you’ve gained some success. It’s not always pretty or fun.”

  “Well, what kind of trouble?” she persisted.

  Kevin hesitated. �
��The kind where tempers flare, voices are raised and sometimes people get arrested.”

  “You’re serious?”

  He lifted a corner of his mouth in a caustic smile. “Very. You know, as hard as it is to believe, there are some folks who just don’t like me.”

  Chloe grinned. “I can’t imagine why not. Is CB some sort of bodyguard?” Chloe asked.

  “Sometimes he’s that, too.”

  Kevin was suddenly so serious that Chloe felt regret at assuming that he had somehow brought it all on himself.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” he said quietly.

  He turned to begin walking, very slowly, back to the entrance of the building. Chloe fell into step next to him. She felt somewhat awkward being next to Kevin, because it felt almost like they could be a couple. Chloe glanced up at Kevin’s profile, and her breath caught in her throat. They seemed to share a natural stride and pacing in their walk. Even more of a surprise, against all reason and common sense, she felt…safe.

  “You were asking about Micah Ross. How come?” she said, to get past the sudden silence between them.

  “We’ve been in touch over the years. He’s a good guy. Did you know he’s a hotshot record producer in L.A.? Has his own label.”

  “I do know that. Although we were friends at Hollington I lost touch with him in the last several years.”

  “I think we should get in touch with him. He represents some of the hottest talent on the charts today. Maybe we can get him to loan us a singer or a group.”

  “You mean for homecoming?”

  “That’s right. I thought we could have someone appear at Saturday’s party. What do you think?”

  Chloe’s eyes brightened. “Kevin, that’s such a great idea.”

  “That’s all I need to hear. I’ll get in touch—”

  There was a sudden flash of light. And then another. Chloe blinked and glanced around, momentarily confused. But Kevin reacted more instinctively, immediately finding the source and identifying it. Chloe quickly realized they had just been photographed.