Chapter 7
chapter seven
camilo
I’d been feeling pretty good about my ability to get through this first meeting with Thomas Hughes, until I saw his name like a beacon in my inbox.
Hours away from our first meeting I was sitting at my desk squinting at my computer monitor, a hesitant finger hovering over the keyboard like I was about to disable a ticking bomb.
I assumed it was just a confirmation the meeting was happening, but given my current emotional state, you’d think my computer was going to blow up the moment I opened the fucking thing.
After spending Sunday with my mother, I’d arrived at the office on Monday feeling like I could handle being around Tom without putting myself in a precarious position.
That lasted a total of three hours, until Melissa asked me to read over the other philanthropic efforts Tom had been a part of over the last ten years.
Thomas Hughes, on paper at least, was not only ridiculously wealthy, gorgeous, and smart; he was a good man. Which was why opening the email where he had probably typed perfectly charming and lovely words about our meeting today was going to blast the last of my already very vulnerable defenses.
“There you are!” I almost fell out of my chair when I heard Melissa’s voice. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Hi, Melissa,” I said with a lot less enthusiasm than she seemed to have today. The extra pep in her step could only mean she was here to talk about the renovation project, namely my meeting with Tom.
“Are you ready for this afternoon?” The inflection in her tone made it clear that she was well aware I was dreading this meeting. She had no clue it was because I’d had Mr. Hughes’s dick in my mouth nary a week ago. But she knew me well enough to know a welfare check was in order.
“Yes, I just got an email from him. I think it’s just confirming the time and place.”
“Oh great!” She grinned, her eyes lasered in on the back of my monitor.
“Check to see what he said.” I reluctantly clicked on the message and quickly read the few lines he’d sent under Melissa’s scrutiny.
As I suspected, it was a perfectly worded message.
I took a deep breath and tightened my leg muscles as I stared blankly at the screen, trying, but failing, to not get taken in by the giddiness I felt about seeing him again.
I glanced at Melissa and almost laughed at her expectant expression.
“We’re on for three o’clock today. He said he’ll let me know where soon, because he’s got stuff going this morning and not sure where he’ll be, but that it’ll be around here.”
I tried not to sound annoyed with the whole “mystery location” drama.
Melissa didn’t seem too perturbed by the fact I might be lured into some seedy situation though; she just smiled and gave me a thumbs-up.
“Excellent. I’m sure he’ll come up with something convenient. He is such a considerate man.” She legit sighed. Tom’s juju had gotten to Melissa, too.
“So, I wanted to check in with you, because I just heard about a couple of potential developments that could put us on track to start this renovation even faster than we thought.”
“Oh?”
She leaned in before answering and she was smiling wide, so I expected this was more good news. “Sounds like Suarez Construction is available after all.”
I perked up at that. They’d worked for us in the past and had been incredibly professional, going out of their way to make sure our clients felt safe around their staff.
“That’s great, I thought they were working on that big health and wellness center for trauma survivors in Brooklyn though. Are they done already?” I asked handing Melissa the small bowl of candy on my desk she’d been eyeing. After she popped a Jolly Rancher into her mouth, she leaned in closer.
“Bueno, apparently there was some escandalo.”
The gossipy tone in her voice almost made me laugh.
I knew it was going to be some good chisme if Melissa was speaking in Spanish.
Melissa was a self-proclaimed Jersey Girl, but her wife, Rita, was a gorgeous Puerto Rican woman.
They’d been together for like twenty years and married for ten.
At this point Melissa could roll into any Latinx cookout and own the tíos in a Dominoes game without breaking a sweat.
“This gossip must be good, boss. You pulled that chair so close, you’re almost on my side of the desk.” She waved my shade off as she got to it.
“Well sounds like the project is not happening, at least not for now.” It was adorable how she whispered even though it was just the two of us in the office, and the door was closed.
It was interesting news though. That wellness center had been the talk of the NYC nonprofit crowd all of last year. A wealthy family had offered to fund the project completely in partnership with an agency in Brooklyn.
“So what happened?”
Melissa got even closer. This shit must be real scandalous, because she was now practically sitting on my desk.
“Apparently the donor pulled out. It was a woman who used the services from the agency decades ago. She’s from a very wealthy family and through the years has been a big funder.
” Melissa’s face hardened before she went on.
“The word is that she found out one of the agency people working closely with the family started seeing the woman’s granddaughter.
Who apparently is very young, like barely eighteen. ”
The skin on my face heated as Melissa’s words sunk in, and a bubble of dread settled in my stomach. Melissa was not the type of person to be passive-aggressive, but this was way too close to home for me not to notice…or panic.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
I couldn’t even come up with a response, so I just nodded, hoping she didn’t notice the twitching in my eye. But Melissa went on unbothered.
“When she found out about it, she shut down the whole thing.” She shook her head, her face mutinous. “Can you imagine throwing away a project of that size that would help so many people?”
I moved my head from side to side, my eyes focused on her, trying to figure out if this was a test or just the worst coincidence ever. My heart was beating so hard I could feel it in my throat. These were the stakes if I fucked up and blurred boundaries with Tom. Losing our project.
I had to remember that.
I made myself speak before things got weird, since Melissa was clearly expecting a reaction. “That’s in super bad form. I can’t imagine how that guy thought it would be a good idea to get involved with a donor.”
I was sure my face was showing genuine horror, because that was exactly what I was feeling. “Not his best moment, that is for sure.”
I knew that most likely Melissa hadn’t come in here to terrify me; she was not that type of person. Regardless, I would take this story as a cautionary tale in how I conducted myself with Thomas Hughes.
“I need to get to that meeting with our immigration lawyers. There’s a lot to cover today.” Melissa stood up from her chair then, angling her head towards the door.
“Okay, and no worries. I’ll make sure to let Tom know we have contractors lined up.”
“Great. I feel like we should run it by him, since he wants to be kept in the loop. Make sure you show him the proposal Suarez Construction gave us. If he wants more than that, let me know, and I’ll get you in touch with them.”
She was at the door when she turned around again, her hand on the doorknob.
“Actually it may be easier to just put you in contact with them anyway. You’re the one in charge of the project, and the contact person for the donor. We might as well get you in communication with everyone.” My stomach sank again at her words.
It was all riding on me. This project, the agency’s relationship with Tom. All of it. On me.
I just lifted a hand to her as she slipped out of the room and sat at my desk quietly freaking out for a few minutes.
“This dude is deliberately trying to mess with my head,” I muttered as I walked into the place where I was meeting Tom. Of course, he’d pick my favorite fucking restaurant in New York City, which I could only afford like twice a year. Red Rooster on Lenox Avenue was a Harlem jewel.
Owned by an Ethiopian chef who’d been adopted by a Swedish family as a child and blended those two worlds with the food culture of Harlem.
This place evoked the golden age of the Harlem Renaissance.
Amazing food, great music, and a fantastic vibe.
It was the coolest spot in town, in my opinion, and of course Tom had to know about it.
Because he wasn’t happy with being, rich, nice, and gorgeous; he also had to have great taste.
Why the hell did he even want to meet here? It wasn’t exactly a business atmosphere, even at four in the afternoon.
I walked up to the hostess and gave her Tom’s name, and she immediately led me to the dine-in area where he was seating in a booth by himself.
The restaurant area was half empty, so at least we’d be able to have a conversation.
I quickly slumped into the red leather booth opposite from Tom, before he did something ridiculous like stand up and pull out a chair for me.
Without saying hello, I pulled papers out of my messenger bag with my eyes trained anywhere but on him.
I knew I was being rude, but it seemed like Tom Hughes’s sole purpose in life was to throw me off my game by being fucking perfect.
After tugging out what I needed to show him and setting it on the table, I pushed my back against the booth and glared at him.
When I saw the amused smile on his face, like he’d caught me being adorable again, I finally lost it and let whatever fly out of my mouth.
“Who picks Red Rooster as a place to meet about a domestic violence shelter renovation? Don’t you have an office where we could do this?
” I waved my arm around, signaling the beautiful bar area and even more beautiful servers buzzing around us.
“Isn’t this a bit much? I could have come downtown or wherever your office is, you know? ”
The bastard laughed.