She entered the corporate building ten minutes late. “Hello. My name is Imani Rayne, and I have a 10:00 meeting with Mr. and Mrs. Sims.”
The French receptionist waved her manicured hands toward two grand doors. “Mr. and Mrs. Sims are waiting for you. Please go right in.”
Imani stepped into the conference room. “Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Sims. I’m so sorry I’m late.” Imani gave a soft smile.
“No problem, sweetie.” Mrs. Sims took Imani’s hands in hers, stepped back and appraised her from head to toe. “Just look at you. It seems like just yesterday, you were a little baby girl holding your grandmother’s pinkie finger. My, how you’ve grown.”
As a teen, Imani felt like she’d never mature out of her awkward phase. She no longer had the look of an adolescent girl unaware of how to accentuate her curves and master her feminine walk. Now, she embraced her beauty and had confidence in her stride.
“We haven’t seen you in so long, Imani. You seem to be doing fine, just a little sad in the eyes,” Mr. Sims said.
“I’m fine. It gets a little easier every year. I still miss Gamine, but everything is going well.”
It had been five years since her grandmother, Faith “Gamine” Burrstone, passed away. At times, she still felt the same gut-wrenching ache she felt that fateful day she’d gotten the news of her passing.
Mrs. Sims softly squeezed Imani’s hand. “It takes time, and she wouldn’t want you to be sad.”
She gently stroked Mrs. Sims’s hand. “I know.”
“Let’s get down to business,” Mr. Sims suggested. He stepped aside to escort Imani to a nearby chair. Until that moment, Imani hadn’t noticed the handsome gentleman with smooth chocolate skin sitting at the end of the conference table.
“Imani Rayne, I’d like to introduce you to Daman Barker, the other buyer vying for the estate.”
Daman stood and walked toward her. “Ms. Rayne, it’s a pleasure.”
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Barker, but please call me Imani.” She was surprised at how low and sexy her voice had gotten.
“It’s nice to meet you, too, and you can call me Daman.”
She grasped his hand a little longer than she should have, surprised by the electric spark. The way his masculine hands encased hers shot shivers through every part of her body.
Daman Barker is your competition. Pull yourself together, girl. You got this!
Easier said than done. Daman was tall and muscular. And God bless the tailor who draped his body in that stylish, blue, pin-striped suit. The man had swagger. She’d noticed that much in his short stride from his seat to her side of the conference table. But that wasn’t all she’d noticed. He was arrogant; she could tell by the way he carried himself. But goodness, he made arrogance look sexy.
She scanned her memory, trying to recall why his name seemed so familiar, but she came up short. He was observing her so closely that it was hard for her to keep her breathing under control. It felt like he could see right through her business suit. Is he attracted to me, or is he just assessing his competition? As if he knew her thought process, he winked and gave her a sexy smile, catching her off guard.
Yes, it was definitely attraction.
“Shall we get started?” Mr. Sims asked, interrupting the silent exchange between Imani and Daman.
“Yes,” she and Daman both replied.
Mr. Sims tapped a small, disorderly bundle of paper on the desk until it lined up into a neat stack. “Okay, we have called you both here today because of your interest in our estate. We’re having a difficult time making a decision. Therefore, we have a proposal for you both.”
Imani sat and calmly glanced from Mr. Sims to Mrs. Sims. “And what would that be?”
“Well, you both are aware of the leading Black Enterprise Entrepreneurs Conference and Expo that takes place every year, allowing African-American entrepreneurs and business owners a chance to network and receive recognition for their work. I believe you both have members in your families that have been honored at previous conferences. This year, Black Enterprise is throwing the First Annual Performance and Achievement Awards Gala that will honor business owners and entrepreneurs on a much larger scale. Are you both aware of the gala?”
“Yes,” Imani replied. Daman nodded his head in agreement.
Mr. Sims pushed back from the table just a bit, placing one long leg across the other and laying his hand over his ankle. “My wife and I are on the Black Enterprise executive board, and we were asked to choose event planners to organize the gala. We expect this event to be the premier destination event for business owners. It takes place on July 20th, three months from now, and requires the confirmation of approximately fifteen hundred guests, catering plans, pre- and post-party plans...the list goes on and on.”
Imani looked at Daman. Since he appeared as confused as she felt, she asked the obvious question. “I’m sorry, Mr. Sims, but I don’t follow. What does the gala have to do with our interest in the estate?”
Mrs. Sims smiled. “What my husband is trying to say to you both is that we’ve received approval from the board and would like to ask you both to plan the gala...together. Afterward, you two will decide who will get the estate. If you accept the challenge, we have numerous volunteers to help you.”
Having numerous volunteers wasn’t important to Imani. What was important was finding out why the Simses thought it was such a good idea for her and Daman to work together on this.
Mrs. Sims poured herself a glass of water from the carafe sitting near her side of the table. She took a quick sip before continuing. “I guess you should also know that last week we decided to sell one of our smaller estates. Although it isn’t as exquisite as the estate with the lake view, it’s definitely a beautiful property. Whoever does not get the lake-view estate will get the smaller estate.”
Mr. Sims nodded his agreement. “We understand how you both must feel, and if you accept, the board will be happy to have you on the planning committee free of charge.”
“Free of charge? Why wouldn’t we get paid for this event?” Daman asked.
Mr. Sims smiled slightly before continuing. “As a consolation prize for your doing us this huge favor, we are willing to give those properties to you for a minimal fee.” He handed Imani and Daman each a piece of paper detailing the prices for the estates.
“Why would you charge us so little?” Daman asked.
“Mr. Sims and I have made some very wise investments, so we have all the money we could ask for.” Mrs. Sims softly touched her husband’s arm. “This is something that we want to do, and we’d appreciate it if you took us up on our offer. Selling the estates was never about the money. It was more about ensuring that the estates were in very good hands.”
Imani hated surprises, and she really wished the Simses would have taken her aside to explain their proposal before having the meeting. But as a friend of the Simses, she knew better than to debate them on the issue. “I need a day or two to think about this,” she said.
“I do, too.” Daman stood and moved toward Imani’s chair. “Imani, I usually work in Detroit this time of year, but I will be in Chicago for a while. May I suggest that you and I talk about this over dinner tomorrow?”
Daman was right; they had a lot to discuss. But at the moment, she couldn’t