The Love Campaign
Laura Marquez Diamond
Copyright©2021 Laura Marquez Diamond
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This is a work of fiction. Names, places, incidents, and events either are from the author’s imagination or represented for the purposes of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Edited by Lindsey Hinkel
Cover Art by Olinart
About the Book
Talent? Undeniable
Charm? In spades.
Looks? Deceptively angelic.
But Jaya Patel was too involved as an at-risk youth counselor to notice Sebastian Beaumont’s talent, charm, or looks.
Until one fated night when he swept her off her feet—because she’s clumsy. Tripping over herself was like a second job.
Passion? Undeniable.
Smarts? In spades.
Looks? Absolute kryptonite.
But Sebastian Beaumont was too busy as a rising hockey star to notice Jaya Patel’s passion, intelligence, or beauty.
Until compromising pictures forced them to concoct a romantic ruse—because an important fundraising campaign depended on it.
Will they overcome the stark differences in their lives? Can they be together when forces conspire to rip them apart?
This love campaign needs donations
in the form of a miracle.
PROLOGUE
The Winter of Sebastian Beaumont’s Discontent
Squinting against the obnoxious winter glare, Sebastian Beaumont assessed the Freedom Community Center. It was, in a word, dingy. This was an objective assessment that had nothing at all to do with the shitty couple of weeks he spent trying to fuck away the nagging feeling that fucking away feelings didn’t work. Anyway.
The hockey youth association willing to take donations was housed here. He had a hockey bag full of professional-grade sticks, used and broken, ready to be donated and refurbished for a local charity program that supported hockey in underprivileged communities.
Despite the winter sun, he shivered when he walked towards the entrance. February brought an onslaught of icier-than-normal weather. The wind from the Ohio River, when it swirled and whipped, made the cold seep into his bones.
The person manning the information desk told him to go to the basement and look for Jaya Patel. The basement was a labyrinth of confusing hallways and locked doors. Hard to imagine such an elaborate system underneath the downtown building. Dingy and confusing. Great.
Finally, a door ajar. Sebastian placed the hockey bag down to sneak a peek inside.
He saw a woman on her knees, reaching under a desk. She wore snug, black leggings, her round, lifted ass facing the door. Because he didn’t knock, she had no idea he was there. He meant to announce himself, but he got distracted by a funny little squeal of delight as she snatched the elusive item from under her desk. Squealed then wiggled her backside. Her exquisitely substantial and eminently grabbable backside. An involuntary sound of appreciation burst out of him.
She whipped around suddenly and they both jumped. The woman of South Asian descent narrowed her eyes as she found her footing. “How long have you been standing there?”
“Wh—?” He was momentarily agog because she was…stunning. A long braid was casually strewn across her shoulder and the tip of the braid grazed her chest. She had impressively high, round, ample breasts. Sebastian trailed his eyes downwards to her hips where she posed her indignation with fists on each side. They were not slender hips by any means. Her body was full and curvaceous and gorgeous. He donned his most disarming smile. “Just right now.”
“You could have said something,” she commented. She had the most expressive eyebrows. Dark and full, with a shapely arch. They framed the largest eyes he had ever seen. They took up so much of her face, she looked like a doe. But the aggressive kind. Was there such a thing as aggressive deer? Because apart from being large and lashed and riveting, nothing about those eyes suggested innocent, meek Bambi. She looked pissed.
“Well?” she blurted impatiently.
Wait, what? Why is she being so salty? He had no time for this. “I talked to someone on the phone. Are you Jaya Patel? I’m dropping off sticks from the Thrashers hockey locker room. For the donation. They’re used and some are broken but the guy on the phone said you have a way of refurbishing for kids.”
She looked at his empty hands. “Do you need me to get them? Outside?” She started to put on her jacket.
“No, no,” he retorted. “They’re right here.” Sebastian grabbed the bag in the hallway and placed it inside the room.
“Thanks.” She knelt to open the bag and started to remove the sticks, placing them against the wall.
“You can keep the bag,” he said.
“Cool, thanks. We always need extra bags. I still need to organize the sticks anyway.”
She stood up and walked around the desk. “Do you need a receipt for your donation?” she asked, whipping out some kind of writing pad.
“Nope,” he said immediately.
She pinched her lips and raised a brow at him. Like maybe he was too stupid to grasp what people did when their transactions were completed. If there was a cartoon banner over her head, it would read: What the fuck are you still doing here, then?
“You’re alone down here,” he stated plainly.
Her brows furrowed. “I’m aware of that.”
“It’s pretty isolated. You’re alone.”
“Yes, that is the definition of…alone.” Her sarcasm was thick as molasses. Then, as if she wanted to lessen the harshness of her words, she sighed and followed up with, “I’ve been volunteering here for a while. It’s safe. Thank you for your concern. Have a good day,” she said robotically.
Suddenly, she turned her back to him. To him! What the fuck with this girl, he thought. For some reason, this bothered Sebastian to no end. He could not remember when a woman turned her back to him. Like, not once.
“How does a girl like you get involved with a hockey charity?” Even before the full sentence left his mouth, her shoulders were already stiff. By the time she turned to face him, he knew for a fact he should have shut up. Yet something about the angry line of her full lips was smoking sexy.
He stared at her mouth, from which emitted a humorless chuckle. “A girl like me?”
“I mean…you know. A woman. An…Indian woman. You’re Indian right? Like from Asia not from, you know…”
She exhaled as if this was a question she knew how to answer by rote repetition. “I’m from Detroit and yes, my parents migrated from Asia. Sri Lanka and India, in fact.” As if already tired of the story, she continued, “I grew up playing hockey. Now I work as a counselor with at-risk youth. I volunteered to be part of this organization so some of those kids can be exposed to the sport I love. So yeah, that’s what a girl like me is doing with a hockey charity…alone.” Her face was hard to read but the corners of her lips twitched at the last word. As if she willed herself not to say it but decided, what the fuck, it would be funny.
Alt
hough the joke was directed at him, he thought it actually was kind of funny.
“That’s cool.”
“Sebastian, right? Beaumont?”
He raised a brow. “In the flesh.”
She rolled her eyes and went back to that cute pose with fists on her full hips.
“That was some kind of fight last night.”
He did not expect her to say that. With a bit of swagger, he said, “Why, thank you.”
“I said it was some kind of fight, not that it was the good kind. You got the instigator penalty and the Thrashers were scored on with just a few minutes left in the period,” she tilted her head and batted her eyes like she was telling an innocent story.
It was his turn to narrow his eyes. “So you’re an at-risk counselor, hockey volunteer, and sports commentator now?”
She chuckled and lifted her pretty chin. “I’m just saying. If you’re going to instigate a fight, don’t get caught.” She displayed a snarky smile. Annoyed, Sebastian stomped out.
“Have a good day!” she added cheerily after him.
CHAPTER 1
About A Year Later…
Sebastian Beaumont strolled into the Freedom Community Center lobby, generously bestowing handshakes and smiles and hellos, his guy-next-door charm gushing like a fountain of benevolence.
What an unbelievable jerk, Jaya Patel thought to herself.
Eighteen minutes late. Sebastian Beaumont was eighteen minutes late, but he arrived casually without a care in the world. And all these teenagers who, just a minute ago were at the edge of their seats hoping the hockey player would show up eventually, were now aglow in the light of his goodwill.
If she was eighteen minutes late, Jaya would be scrambling, not stalling. Apologizing, not grinning.
Must be nice for the world to be happy that you just showed up. Not everyone had that kind of reception. Granted, his second year at the Cincinnati Thrashers Hockey team increased his popularity in the community and status with the team. But still, a local celebrity should be able to make a simple appointment on time, right?
Jaya scowled, crossed her arms, and raised her brow. It was a pose she knew how to deploy the way an Olympic archer would know how to unleash an arrow. Without hesitation and with deadly accuracy.
As if he felt the prick of her gaze, Sebastian’s gray-blue eyes landed on her face. A smirk, that tilted just one side of his mischievous lips, soon followed. Then, he winked. Winked! What an appalling, insolent, conceited…
“Wow, he’s dreamy,” Shirley droned beside her, interrupting the torrent of adjectives at the tip of Jaya’s tongue.
“Who?” Jaya retorted, just to be aggravating even if it was perfectly obvious Shirley was talking about Sebastian signing autographs.
Jaya was wearing a pale green blouse and dark dress pants today, making an effort to look professional for this gathering. Her outfit was more formal than her usual long-sleeved shirt, utilitarian jacket, and stretchy black leggings. It must be why she felt hot and restless. She tugged at her neckline before stuffing her hands into pockets.
Shirley leaned closer to Jaya. “Oh c’mon. Even you have to admit it. You’re a hockey fan. How are you not swooning over Sebastian fucking Beaumont?” Shirley whispered since swear words should be kept to a minimum when in the company of preteens and high school kids around them.
She wasn’t done touting the man’s virtues. “And he is sooo nice. I couldn’t believe we snagged him as the spokesperson for the campaign. I mean, how nice is that?!”
“I’m sure he’s getting something out of it. Great publicity for one thing,” Jaya mumbled and rolled her eyes. But then felt a little bad. Just a little. “Sure. I guess, yeah,” she admitted, reluctantly.
An older man, distinguished in his expensive suit, cleared his throat and worked his way to the middle of the crowd. He was of ordinary height and frame, though standing beside Sebastian’s freakishly long and muscular body, everyone looked a little pudgy.
“Ladies and gentlemen, can I have your attention,” Harvey Watson, chairperson for the Kids Outreach Campaign, addressed the crowd of about twenty youths and a handful of counselors and staff. Everyone hushed and kept their attention on Sebastian while the chairperson talked.
“We are so fortunate to welcome this generous, wonderful man who has volunteered to take our fundraising campaign to the next level. We all know him as the gritty centerman for the Thrashers hockey team—league champions a few years back, let’s not forget—but today, he is more than a hockey player. He is a champion for our cause.”
Laying it real thick there Mr. Watson, Jaya thought to herself. It’s an outreach campaign to fund a community center, not world peace, for goodness’ sake.
Despite her internal cynicism, Jaya looked around and recognized the effect this ceremony had on the kids she worked with. They were leaning forward, eyes wide, and faces grinning. Being part of this event made them feel special. For so many of these teenagers, that feeling was rare.
“Today, we’ve arranged for Sebastian to meet some of the kids who will benefit from the improvements to the Freedom Community Center of downtown Cincinnati. This private meeting with the kids was, by the way, his idea!” Harvey Watson looked over at Sebastian with such veneration, it was almost embarrassing.
Sebastian nodded and gave a timid wave at the crowd before he put his hands in his pockets and rocked on his heels. He was wearing a simple Henley shirt and jeans, though the casual outfit belied the stark angles and shapely muscles of an athlete’s body. The combination of his powerful frame with his boyish good looks was striking.
In Jaya’s assessment, if there was a caption under his pose, it would read something like: Although I’m aware that everyone is looking at me in adoration, I’m going to stand here like this old man’s announcement is the most interesting thing I’ve heard all day because, despite my total hotness, I am a patient, humble, and accommodating young man.
Oh, please.
“Without further ado, let’s welcome Sebastian Beaumont, everybody!”
The welcoming noise was about as loud as an arena. The acoustics were very flattering in community centers, it turned out.
“Thank you so much, Chairman Watson. And thank you all for being here to make me feel welcome,” Sebastian began cheerfully. “When I heard that the community center needed to make improvements, I knew I had to do something. This is a great place for kids and I, um, I spent a lot of time in places like this where I grew up.”
Sebastian’s voice dipped lower. “My mom was a single parent and so, after school, community centers were part of my everyday life. I know that’s the case for many of you.”
He was looking out at the kids, sitting on the floor or sharing seats everywhere in the lobby, many in middle school or early high school years and from minority populations. Young, vulnerable, and impressionable kids who had few choices for after-school activities. Or rather, few choices that didn’t involve loitering or getting into trouble. Jaya knew how important this facility was to their everyday lives. It kept them off the streets and provided access to counselors and tutors. It wasn’t just a few basketball courts they were sprucing up; the campaign was meant to revive a safe space for kids to thrive.
Jaya was shaken out of her reverie by Shirley’s drooling. Or was it the collective drooling she was sensing? Sebastian’s smile, soft words, and warm demeanor enthralled everyone. She couldn’t blame them. The crowd didn’t know what she knew about Sebastian’s extracurricular activities.
He cleared his throat and projected his voice to be friendly and jovial. “I know there are a few fundraising events scheduled in the future, but I asked for this tour with you guys because I wanted to introduce myself. More importantly, I want to get to know you and understand what this place means to you. I never want to forget who this is for so yeah, well, I guess that’s it. Thanks,” he concluded and pressed his lips together. Sounds of “aww” emanated from all corners of the lobby.
Jaya went to
work, flitting around and coordinating the kids to take their places. They were assigned different areas in the community center. She organized it so that three to four kids were in different sections: the athletic gym, the general playroom, the two different locker rooms, and the game tables that converted to tutoring spaces in the basement.
The tour involved the campaign chairman, Mr. Watson, taking Sebastian to each section while the kids explained how the incoming resources were going to improve that part of the community center. At least one adult staff or counselor would be with each group, but the point of the mini-presentation was for the kids to deliver the message. Jaya was proud of their willingness to engage in the process. They were a bit nervous, as kids can be, but they were ready. Besides, what truly mattered was that they spoke from the heart.
When she finalized her instructions, Jaya sat at the front desk. She meant to stay in the lobby in case she was needed by any of the presenters. Mr. Watson walked up to her with his hand out and with Sebastian in tow.
“Jaya, hello! Thank you, thank you for getting the kids ready. Have you met Sebastian? Sebastian, Jaya Patel is our fantastic coordinator for youth services at the Freedom Community Center. She’s a big reason for the positive strides we’re making here. The kids absolutely adore her.” He shook her hand vigorously while singing those praises.
Jaya didn’t care for this sort of attention, and she certainly didn’t like Sebastian’s all-knowing, smug gaze when he said, “In fact, we have met. Through the Hockey-For-All program. How’s it going Jaya?” the esteemed guest asked with a twinkle in his eye.
All sweetness and light, Jaya smiled back when she answered, “I’m doing well. Nice to see you again, Mr. Beaumont.”
“Please, you’ve always called me Sebastian,” he teased conspiratorially.
To your face maybe, Jaya said to herself but shook off the snarkiness. “Right. Well, good to see you, Sebastian. Have fun meeting the kids! They’re excited to meet you.”
The Love Campaign (Romantic Revelations Series Book 1) Page 1