by Cher Etan
“You too ma. No keggers you crazy kids,” she said faux admonishingly to her mother and cousin. Sheila shooed her away and told her not to return without a prince charming. Leila stuck her tongue out at her, totally intending not to take her advice.
*****
She was early of course…as the organizer she had to make sure everything was running as it should before the guests and the guest of honor got there. She made sure that flowers were delivered and in place for presentation to the guest of honor; place mats were all arranged in a politically correct manner and that the caterers were on site and ready to go. Martha followed her like the obedient foot soldier she was, taking notes at all of Leila’s observations and following up on them at once.
“Microphone check?” Leila inquired.
“Check,” Martha replied. The band was just setting up on the stage, India Arie’s people had been by earlier to inspect the set up and see that everything was ready for her performance.
“Dressing room?” Leila asked.
“All set up and ready with all requested refreshments and toiletries,” Martha replied.
Leila nodded, “Good. Wonderful job Martha now run along and change.”
Martha stared at her open mouthed; she was wearing a long purple strapless gown and her hair was done up with a tiara to boot. She was most definitely already changed. Leila grinned at her.
“Just fuckin witchu,” she said.
Martha heaved a sigh of relief. “Oh,” she said and smiled sickly.
“You need to lighten up a little Martha. There is nothing life and death here,” Leila said placing a hand on her arm. “Now go tell one of those gorgeous waiters to hand you a glass of champagne, drink it, and relax. Okay?”
Martha nodded and went off but Leila knew she wouldn’t be touching any champagne. She was of a nervous and uptight disposition, always seeking to do everything perfectly. It made her an excellent assistant to the Project Manager but it also made her extremely exhausting to be around. Leila sighed and walked slowly to the bar, taking her own advice and swiping a flute of champagne. She sipped it slowly as she waited at a table for the guests to begin arriving. Once the party had began, it would be non-stop all night so she might as well take the opportunity to rest her ankle now.
Slowly but surely the guests began to trickle in and Leila circulated ensuring that everything was running smoothly. Mrs Elkins, the organizations patron, gestured for her to approach the high table and she did so apprehensively, hoping that nothing was wrong.
She smiled as she reached the table, leaning in to hear what Mrs. Elkins had to say. “We’ve just received word that our guest of honor will not be joining us,” she whispered and Leila’s heart sank. This could prove disastrous for their evening. But Mrs. Elkins was not through talking. “Instead he’s sent his grandson to represent him. Apparently he’s not feeling well enough to travel.”
Leila nodded, sagging inwardly with relief, “What do you need from me?”
“I need you up here at the high table Leila. We don’t want to overwhelm him with us old fogies after all. Better he has someone near to his own age to talk to,” she said.
“I see,” Leila replied wondering what she could possibly say to some Hollywood prince. Perhaps they could discuss boy bands and the possible resurgence of Madonna… “I’ll join you as soon as he arrives,” she promised. Mrs. Elkins smiled gratefully and shooed her away. Leila resumed her rounds with increased urgency. Clearly she would not be able to run things from the floor as soon as the guest of honor arrived; which meant she needed to hand over to Martha forthwith. She located her at last, checking on the items availed to Ms. Arie in her dressing room.
“Martha darling, I have some news, maybe bad; maybe good. Depending on how you take it,” she said.
“What is it?” Martha inquired anxiously.
“I’m required to sit at the high table to make the guest of honor comfortable so you have to do all the behind the scenes running around.”
“Oh, okay. Of course,” Martha said straightening up like she’d been given command of the USS Enterprise.
Leila nodded. “Thank you dear. Now just relax, and make sure everything goes great,” she said with a pat on Martha’s shoulder.
Martha took a deep breath and nodded; then she straightened her back and marched off with purpose. Leila watched her go, sighed and went the opposite way. Hopefully Martha did not suffer a stroke from being wound so tight.
She arrived in the function hall just as the MC was announcing the arrival of the guest of honor. All the tables were now fully occupied and the hall was loud with conversation and laughter. It was a good group; fundraising would go great. Leila was sure of it. She wondered if she should wait until the guy arrived before heading to the high table. She peered around, trying to see if the model they had got to present the bouquet of flowers was in place. She just glimpsed Martha leading her with what looked like a kung fu grip on her arm to the designated spot. Leila sighed, the model did not look too happy at being manhandled but she was a professional. If she was in pain, she played through it. Leila nodded her approval and sidled a little closer to the high table. She could just see Mrs. Elkins stepping back into the room leading a group of tuxedo clad men. She went on her tip toe for a second trying to see over everyone’s heads as to what they looked like; but her ankle sent up a sharp warning that she was overstepping the bounds of what it was prepared to do for her so she desisted. She would see them soon enough anyway.
They had reached the model now, and she was handing over the flowers with a sexy smile. Her face had brightened considerably Leila could see. Hmm, maybe the grandson was good looking. There was clapping in the hall as the MC gave the stats for what the Maitland Foundation had done for Venture- GRAD over the years, ending in an announcement of their generous donation of premises to house the project.
“Venture-GRAD will have the space and facilities to expand its activities such as counseling services, expand its resource center and accommodate a higher number of potential graduates in terms of recruitment, monitoring and evaluation. For this, the future professionals of Atlanta thank the Maitland Foundation and welcome our guest of honor, Jonathon Leary who is here to represent his grandfather, James Maitland!” the MC wound up with flourish to raucous applause.
Leila stood as if frozen. “Jon…?” she murmured to no one in particular. Surely it couldn’t be…Not the idiot who hit her bike the other day. There was no way.
Chapter 4
Actually there was; the crowds parted as Mrs. Elkins led the entourage to the table and there he was…shaggy dirty-blonde hair, slicked back now with some sort of gel, really too long for an adult unless he’s a model. Of course with that towering muscular physique and the green eyes he could be a model. Not that Leila was noticing…he was hardly her type after all. Wrong color for one – she liked her strong black brothers. Her eyes shifted to his companions; she didn’t know them – Mathews wasn’t one of them. They were just as tall as Jonathon was, definitely topping six feet and a bit and they had the same laissez faire cocky ‘I grew up rich’ vibe that emanated in waves from him. One was dark haired, and the other was red haired…maybe they really were models coming from a shoot or something. Or maybe they were just aware of what a compelling trio they made with their tallness and their…handsomeness.
Jonathon’s eyes landed on her and he smiled. “Leila,” he said as one would say ‘chocolate cake!’ if they were starving.
She smiled and nodded at him. “Jonathon,” she said taking a deep breath and trying to compose herself.
“Oh you know each other?” Mrs. Elkins looked extremely pleased. Leila’s smile was strained.
“We’ve met.”
“Wonderful,” Mrs. Elkins said turning to Jonathon. “Leila is our project manager here at Venture-GRAD and she is doing a phenomenal job.”
Jonathon smiled, “Is that so? I’m glad to hear it.”
Leila didn’t know if she was imagining it but ther
e was something really predatory in his eyes when he said that. She took a deep breath and widened her smile.
“Shall we sit?” she suggested.
“Yes. Let’s,” Mrs. Elkins said leading the way. Jonathon stopped in front of her and gestured for her to precede him. She hesitated for a second, not wanting to do as he wanted but then shrugged internally and stepped in front of him.
“How’s the ankle?” he murmured to her, leaning in slightly so his face was just left of her ear. Leila tried not to jump at the exhalation of breath on her shoulder.
“It's fine. Stop talking,” she said trying to move a little faster. She heard Jonathon laugh behind her but he at least shut his mouth. They all sat down and the sommelier came by to take their wine orders. Leila stuck to sparkling non-alcoholic cider, she did not think tonight was a good night to get drunk or even tipsy. Something told her she’d need her wits about her.
“So…it's nice to see you again. Mathews and I dropped off your bike at your house but you’d already left. Your mother and your…cousin? Sheila, were very nice. Invited us in for coffee and everything. We had a great chat.”
Leila turned to study him, “What could you and my mother possibly have to chat about?”
Jonathon smiled and shrugged, “You?”
Leila narrowed her eyes at him, opening her mouth to order him to stay away from her parent when the MC began to speak again, outlining the program for the evening. Leila fixed a smile on her face and turned to face the front, resolving to get through this with a minimum of fuss. It wasn’t like she had to see him again after today.
*****
Jonathon studied Leila from the corner of his eye, taking in everything from her braided hair to her bandaged ankle with impersonal appreciation. If someone was to be his wife, this Nubian beauty would do just fine. He liked the way she held her head high as if she was a queen and humanity was not worthy. And she had a sharp tongue in her head that was true, but then again so did he on occasion. It was nice to know he didn’t have to walk on egg shells around her for fear she would break. Hailey had given him that impression often. Plus she was bright, a lawyer she’d said; but working for an organization that did some good in the world. It could indicate she was a bleeding heart type of person so he didn’t intend to lead with the fact that he needed to be wed by thirty in order to keep his grandfather’s billions. A more subtle approach would have to be taken. Maybe he’d pass by the hospital tomorrow and settle her mother’s bills. Jonathon nodded to himself in satisfaction, yes, that would be a good start. Get her beholden to him; the investigators had indicated that her mother’s insurance was not willing to pay for her current treatment. Something about pre-existing conditions. He’d also learned a very interesting tidbit from her mother’s very own lips. She’d been a first responder at 9/11…hell her current illness was probably a result of all the toxic air they had breathed in those horrible weeks after it happened. They had that in common at least. His father had died saving people, her mother had gotten sick. Yes. Get her beholden to him, and then establish commonalities. And then bring up the advantages of marriage to him. It was a solid plan. Jonathon was very pleased with himself for thinking of it.
He turned to her with a smile. “Enjoying yourself?” he asked.
*****
Leila was most definitely not enjoying herself. Her nerves were wracked…wracked! They were running late for one thing; dinner should already have been served by now. The band was warming up, playing a few covers, but there was no sign that India Arie was about to get on stage. There should have been a sign by now. And on top of that, James Maitland’s grandson was Jonathon Leary…who was sitting next to her, trying to flirt. Leila had googled him after he’d dropped her off at work, out of perfectly normal human curiosity nothing unusual in that. She’d seen the stories of his women and the shenanigans he got up to, the fact that he was a business man who bought and sold innovative apps for business and entertainment. He was said to have his fingerprints all over tinder, grand theft auto as well as a number of celebrity game apps. This surprised her, he looked more like the night club owner type who liked to Leilaple his own wares. One thing she knew though, judging by his very public shenanigan filled affairs; she was not his type. So she didn’t know why he was bothering with the flirting and attention. Maybe he thought she would sue him…
“Do you think I’m going to sue you?” she asked turning to face him. He looked pretty amused at the thought.
“Why would I think that of a nice girl like you?” he asked.
Leila shrugged, “Just trying to figure you out.”
“Nothing to figure out. I’m just a guy, standing in for his grandfather,” Jonathon replied with a shrug; then he leaned forward to whisper in her ear, “How are you getting home by the way?”
Leila gave him the thousand yard stare but he didn’t seem at all perturbed, just continued to look inquiringly at her.
“I have a cab coming to get me,” she said at last.
He opened his mouth to say something but just then the MC announced that everyone should rise and welcome Ms. India Arie!
Leila struggled to her feet, clapping enthusiastically. She loved India Arie’s music and she’d been the one to propose her for the function. But her leg was killing her and she would have much rather been home with her foot up than at a function wearing shoes that while comfortable, were also still very new and therefore not broken in. Jonathon stood up next to her and clapped as well but she could feel his eyes still on her.
They sat down again and waiters brought in the first course as India sang about how she wasn’t her hair. She expected Jonathon to attempt to continue whatever it was he was going to say to her but he just concentrated on his soup and the performance with seeming absorption. Leila didn’t know why she was disappointed.
After the main course had been eaten and removed, Jonathon sighed with repletion, leaned back and then suddenly turned to her and said, “Oh these are my friends Niall and Ken. Pointing first to the dark haired dude and then the red head. Leila smiled at them and nodded.
“Pleased to meet you,” she said.
“We’ve ‘eard a lo’ abou’ you,” the red head…Ken, said.
“Oh?” Leila asked not sure she had understood him correctly, his cockney accent was so thick.
“Yeah…Jonny here’s been rabbitin’ on abou’ you all day,” he said with a naughty grin.
“Is that bad?” she asked making both Niall and Ken laugh.
“Nah. It's bonkers tho’ yeah? How you guys met?”
Leila wanted to say she didn’t know those words but didn’t know how to without causing offense. So she just smiled non-committally and offered them more wine.
“What have you been telling your friends?” she asked Jonathon out of the side of her mouth. Apparently she was a comedy act because he laughed at her as well. It would help if someone told her why she was so funny.
“Nothing. I just told them how I hit you with my car, that’s all,” he said leaning in to whisper to her. Somehow she didn’t think his leaning ins were accidental. At some point, she could have sworn he was smelling her skin.
“So you going to let me take you home tonight?” he asked. She lifted her eyebrows at the implied innuendo.
“Not like that!” he protested. “I know your mama’s waiting for you. At your home. Where I will be taking you. Without detours. Unless you maybe want to get some late night snacks or something…”
Leila stared at him, “Are you still hungry? I’m sure the kitchen will serve you another plate if you are.”
Jonathon laughed again, “I really like you.” He sounded pleasantly surprised by it. Leila didn’t know whether to be insulted or not.
The musical portion of the night was done and now the speeches were to begin. As project manager, Leila was first on stage to give a run down of the projects so far completed this year. She tried her best to keep it short, interesting and fun, not only for the sake of her guests but also her leg
. She made it interactive, using the big screen behind her to air some of the project beneficiaries’ experiences in their own words through video. She gave a short power point presentation about how funds had been used and their sources while print copies of the same were to be circulated to all contributors. Then she introduced their patron, Mrs. Elkins to escalate the fundraising bit of the evening.
She told them about her childhood, growing up in the poorer sections of the city. How her mother had scrimped and saved for her to attend a private school so she’d have a better future than their current reality. How a good Samaritan had offered a helping hand, enabling her to afford to attend one of the foremost private schools in Atlanta; which led to her acceptance at several Ivy League colleges. She explained how she just wanted to pay that forward and that is why she was the patron of Venture-GRAD. She urged everyone to give generously so that another child like her would have the opportunities she had to get ahead. As she spoke, donor forms were placed in front of the guests for them to fill out.
Leila crossed her fingers hoping for the best. Finally, Mrs. Elkins introduced Jonathon, to speak about the participation of the Maitland Foundation in the Venture-GRAD project. Jonathon stood up, buttoned up his velvet Armani jacket and sauntered gracefully to the podium. He smiled at the crowd and then fished his written speech out of his pocket. He took a deep breath and then began to speak.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, first I’d like to apologize for my grandfather. He would have so wanted to be here on this occasion but his doctors have advised him to refrain from traveling for a few months.” He said, thinking ‘Sure they did, after he told them to.’
“He urged me to impress upon you how proud he is of the work this project is doing and pledges the support of the Maitland Foundation toward helping as many students as possible complete their education successfully. To that end, I have here with me the keys to your new premises.”
Jonathon held up a dramatically big bunch of keys to loud applause. He smiled at everyone as if he knew them all personally then leaned forward toward the mike.