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 even think about the Simses’ proposal because the man towering over her was making her heart skip a beat.
“Sounds like a plan,” she said, satisfied that her voice wasn’t as seductive as before. “Here’s my card. Call me, and I’ll meet you at the restaurant of your choice.”
Daman nodded as he took the card in one hand and reached out his other hand, waiting for her to return the gesture. She hesitated outwardly, but inwardly she was certainly responding to him. She reached out her hand, lightly gripped his and was once again caught off guard by the magnetic spark she felt. The heat reflected in his eyes mirrored what she was feeling.
When she rose out of her seat, he let go of her hand but still stood close by. “Mr. and Mrs. Sims, it’s been a pleasure. Imani and I should have an answer for you in, oh...” He looked Imani’s way to allow her to say when.
“In a couple of days. As always, it was nice seeing you both,” Imani said.
Mrs. Sims opened the door for them. “Imani, tell your family we send our love. We look forward to hearing from the two of you very soon.”
Chapter 2
Daman rocked his head to the beat of smooth jazz music as he sat in a popular downtown Chicago steakhouse, awaiting Imani’s arrival. He’d called her earlier that day to settle on a location for them to meet and discuss the Simses’ proposal. However, the business side of him had some strong apprehensions about accepting what they had offered. He knew there was a catch, but he didn’t know what the older couple had up their sleeves. Regardless of his apprehensions, he knew he had to accept their offer and partner with Imani to plan the gala. He’d promised his father he would buy the property when Mr. and Mrs. Sims were ready to sell, and he couldn’t disregard a promise. On his deathbed, his father told him that the estate would be the best investment he’d ever make. He also told him that it held answers to questions he didn’t even know he had. Daman never got the chance to ask his father to expand on his request. So, Daman not only wanted the estate, he needed the estate. He knew there would be something there from his father. What it was, he wasn’t sure.
Taking a sip of wine to calm his nerves, Daman pondered the proposal. He was anxious about his business dinner with Imani. This wasn’t like him. He never got anxious about meeting with a woman. Then again, he had never gone months without sex, either. Dealing with pressing personal issues had recently forced him to put everything else on the back burner—even his physical needs. But meeting Imani ignited an inferno under that back burner.
Partnering with her wouldn’t be the worst thing that could happen. He was irritated, though, at the way his body reacted to her. Even now he felt like he needed a cold shower. Maybe it was the way her body had sweetly filled out her business suit. Her luscious curves and fair golden-tan complexion were causing him a lot of discomfort. He’d closely assessed her when they were introduced, and the fact that she had boldly assessed him in return every time she caught his eye had made it hard for him to look away.
He glanced at his watch and took another sip of his wine just as he spotted her being escorted to his table. She walked like a woman on a mission.
“Daman, it’s good to see you again,” Imani said. She gave a soft smile but remained professional.
Any man could tell she was poised and she exuded confidence. He usually avoided overly confident women. In his experience, he found them to be too much work, even though his friends would say he never gave that type of woman a chance. On her, however, he had to admit that he liked the confident air.
He stood to pull out her chair. “Good to see you, too, Imani.” The attraction was strong, and so was his anxiety. The faster they got down to discussing business, the better off his body would be.
“I’m sorry I’m a little late,” Imani said as she took her seat. “My mom needed me to run an errand for her. Sometimes I think she’s oblivious to how much work I do. But as she always says, ‘A Burrstone’s work is never done!’”
“No problem. I understand.”
As she ordered her wine, he couldn’t help but observe her natural beauty. Then a thought struck. “Hold on. You said Burrstone. I thought your last name was Rayne.”
“Yes, it is. See, my mother is a Burrstone. My father’s last name is Rayne.”
“Oh, okay. By Burrstone you don’t mean...” His voice trailed off. Imani was smiling a little too hard. Something about the way she smiled made him want to suck her lips and really give her something to smile about.
“If you were going to ask me if I was a Burrstone as in the Burrstones, then the answer is yes.”
Oh, so she’s one of the infamous Burrstone women. The Burrstone family was well-known across the county. Its members consisted of educators, business owners, famous actors and actresses, sports icons, politicians and entrepreneurs. They had founded several charities for children and less-fortunate families, and were highly involved in community events. They were greatly admired, and Daman had always liked the fact that they were a close-knit family.
It dawned on him to whom the Simses were referring when they spoke of the loss of Imani’s grandmother during their meeting the other day. He remembered reading about her death a few years ago. From various articles and interviews, he knew that Faith or “Gamine”—as close family and friends affectionately called her—was a remarkable woman.
“I’m sorry about Mrs. Burrstone.”
Imani grew quiet before speaking. “Thanks. I miss Gamine a lot, but I know she’s in a better place.”
“I know the feeling. I lost my father a while ago.”
Daman wasn’t sure why he had shared that information with her. He didn’t share personal information about himself readily. He watched her trying to read his face and wanted to tell her to give up, since he wasn’t an easy person to read.
“I know,” she replied. “I did a little research on you before I got here. It must be hard for you. I couldn’t imagine losing a parent.”
Shrugging his shoulders, he blew off her words. The waiter stopped by their table, took their dinner orders and left again. After silent seconds ticked into minutes, Daman decided to get to the business at hand.
“So I’ve been thinking a lot about Mr. and Mrs. Sims’s proposal and I don’t think there’s any harm in planning the gala and deciding who will get the estate.”
“I agree,” Imani replied. “I think good things can come out of planning the gala, and Mr. and Mrs. Sims have done more than their fair share for the community over the years. Have you ever planned an event this large before?”
“Yes. I’ve planned many client events and conferences for my company, Barker Architecture. I double majored in college so I have my bachelor’s in both hospitality management and architecture. After college, I got my master’s in business and marketing so I guess you can say I’m a jack of many trades.”
“That’s good to hear,” Imani said.