Closing the money box, Cassie motioned Tess toward several banquet tables laden with fresh bread, salads and serving dishes steeped in tempting aromas that made Tess’s stomach growl.
The food tasted as heavenly as it smelled, almost as good as one of Ramon’s creations. Tess swallowed a savory mouthful of the chicken and smiled as Cassie nodded in her direction. Her new acquaintance had led her to a table not far from the front, where a podium stood.
The women at her table had acknowledged her with cursory nods as Cassie had left to find a vacant seat nearby. Tess did her best to blend in as the women chatted to one another. She waited patiently for an opening in the conversation where she might add something witty or entertaining.
“Kevin is teething and he drools nonstop. Everything goes straight into his mouth and he soaks his little T-shirts right through, even though I keep a bib on him.” The brunette to her left leaned toward the woman beside her.
Not much Tess could add there. Frowning, she focused on the plump redhead to her right. “Then Daddy said he had corns on top of his corns and he would not walk another step. I thought Mama was going to skin him, right there. I have never seen her so angry.”
“Mmm, this asparagus is to die for,” Tess commented to no one in particular.
The others continued discussing teething babies and parents with foot problems. How could she jump in on any of these conversations? They were all talking about families—normal families.
What did Tess know about that?
In near desperation, she glanced across the table to where two women sat in deep conversation. “And he hates school. Doesn’t care for his teacher at all. It’s a battle to make him go every day. He complains about everything. He won’t do his homework. We have a teacher’s conference scheduled this week and I just dread it.”
Who was Tess kidding? She had nothing in common with these women. She could no more relate to their issues than they could relate to hers.
You see, I have this problem. I tend to collect men, first as lovers, whom I heal through sexual encounters, then as friends who stay on long after the loving. My sisters fondly call them my minions, because they do everything for me. I so much as hint at a need and it’s filled. But they can’t fill one of my most pressing needs—the need for female companionship. And though some may say that I do them all a great service in healing them, I feel I can do more to help my community. This is where you ladies come in.
Right, that would go over like a lead balloon. Why had she come? What made her think she could do this? Tess shook her head and looked over at Cassie. She waved and Tess relaxed a little. She’d made at least one connection, and that was better than she’d done all through high school and college combined. Maybe there was hope.
Cassie’s gaze swung to the door, and her smile faded. A sudden taut silence filled the air and Tess turned to see April glaring toward the back of the room. Tess followed the glare to a dark-haired man, standing just inside the door.
He was solid, with a strong build and virile presence that rolled over Tess in waves. Her gaze traveled up his length to lock with his. His eyes and hair were a nondescript brown and his features more angular than she preferred, but still she was entranced and surprised at her own reaction. Certainly, catching a man’s attention had never been a problem for her, but never before had she experienced this inexplicable draw. She braced her hands on the table and fought the urge to go to him.
Still, he held her transfixed and it took all her concentration to turn toward the front of the room. Her back ramrod straight, April moved to the podium, her expression heavy with censure as she glanced at Tess. A sense of bewilderment stole over Tess. What had angered April? Tess took a deep breath and struggled not to look at the man whose presence spiked the tension in the room.
The microphone came to life as April tapped it. “Excuse me everyone, I hope you’ve all had enough of this delicious meal. If not, please feel free to help yourselves to seconds. There’s plenty.”
She paused, but everyone remained seated, either with sated appetites, or apprehension over the obvious discord now present. She resumed speaking. “It seems we have a speaker who has arrived ahead of schedule, so I suggest we commence with that part of our program and leave the reading of the minutes and the business portion until later.”
A murmur of assent rippled through the crowd. The redhead beside Tess raised her hand. “I move we save the minutes and business part of our meeting until after our speaker.”
April smiled sweetly at the woman. “Thank you, Jen. Always nice to have you keeping us on track.” She addressed the group. “Are there any seconds?”
Someone seconded the motion, then it passed with a unanimous vote. April cleared her throat. “So, with no further ado, here’s Dr. Mason Davies to discuss his Project Mentor.”
She walked stiffly to her seat as Dr. Davies strode up the aisle. He moved with a forceful grace, even though tension radiated from the tight set of his jaw and shoulders. He paused when he passed April’s table. “Thank you.”
April stared at him evenly, but made no comment as he continued to the podium. He adjusted the microphone, then let his gaze scan the room. “I’d like to thank you all for having me here today. I appreciate your time and consideration—especially your consideration. I won’t beat around the bush. I’ve come here to ask for your help.”
The low timbre of his voice vibrated through Tess, filling her with surprising swirls of awareness. His gaze again scanned the crowd, before coming to rest on her. Heat rose in her face as, spellbound, she couldn’t look away.
Who was this man?
“For those of you who aren’t familiar with Project Mentor, it’s a program of volunteers working to help atrisk teens and children who have been exposed to drug abuse and/or HIV in their families. It’s a nonprofit organization sponsoring workshops and other events designed not only to help relieve some of the immediate burdens these kids face, but also to help them plan for their futures.
“These kids are the unfortunate victims who fall between the cracks at school and in our communities. They struggle with issues no child should have to deal with, yet they live it. Some of these kids don’t know what it’s like to eat three square meals a day, have proper medical and dental care, or attend school on a regular basis. Many of them have given up by the time they reach us.”
He paused. His passion for this project reached out to Tess and empathy swelled through her—for the children, for this man who cared enough that he faced this roomful of less-than-welcoming women. He and April certainly had some issues to work out. The pressure between the two of them was nearly a physical thing.
“What exactly is it that you’re asking of us, Dr. Davies?” The question came from one of the women at April’s table.
“That’s an excellent question. Our hope is that you’ll lend us a hand with some fund-raising.”
“What kind of fund-raising?” another of April’s group asked.
“That would ultimately be for you to decide, but at Project Mentor we had talked about a big gala or ball where the proceeds would go toward creating a youth center. We would, of course, welcome all youths, but our focus is on the ones we find through the free clinic we established two years ago in downtown Miami.
“Even though that clinic has experienced great success, we have seen more and more patients strung out on drugs and with HIV. When children are involved, our choice in the past has been to help the parents as best we could,