Chapter Fourteen #4
He shrugged. “The guests like a lavish experience so they can feel special.”
“Who doesn’t?”
“Now tell me, young man.” It was Bertram who spoke up, and Maggie had remembered Bertram because he was next to Benji.
If the two older men got up and changed seats, she’d be lost. Bertram had made his fortunes in something that sounded like an Industrial Revolution thing, but Maggie couldn’t remember.
Railroads? Couldn’t be railroads. Probably not oil, either.
Maybe steel? He was old enough to have been a steel magnate, probably, or to have inherited a steel fortune.
He asked Blake how he liked PlantSeed as an organization.
“And do you really think they’re making a difference?
” he added, like he might be attending a benefit dinner for a company whose impacts were questionable.
Maybe that was something rich old people did.
“I’m consistently impressed with this organization.
” Blake was clearly telling the truth. “I’ve been passionate about plants since childhood, and I became passionate about civic activism while I was in college.
A nonprofit that combines the two was a perfect match for me.
” He beamed, getting more passionate as he spoke.
“They prioritize the needs of the communities, taking the lead from the organizers who are already doing the work rather than coming in and attempting to implement their own structures and systems. It means that things look different everywhere, but it’s been a rewarding challenge for me to learn all these various systems. And, of course, to see what possible grants might help them along the way.
” He gave Bertram a winning smile. “I have a presentation for you all after dinner so you can see some of our impact.”
Bertram nodded, still frowning, but that might be his default expression. “Excellent. I look forward to seeing it.”
Blake was good at this, Maggie thought again.
She was happy enough to eat her steak and listen to him casually extol the virtues of PlantSeed, glad that the conversation had shifted away from their relationship.
One of the other couples brought up a charity doing similar work to PlantSeed in New York, and Blake told them how Candace, the executive director, was in conversation about a partnership that could benefit both nonprofits.
He knew a ton about the entire network. And Maggie had once thought that he was just planting community gardens. She’d been selling him short.
Dinner was followed by cheesecake, which nobody ever objected to, conversation ebbing and flowing pleasantly through several topics, then Blake touched her on the shoulder. “Time for me to get ready.” He gave her a tight grin.
She returned a dazzling smile that would hopefully communicate her confidence in him. “Knock ’em dead.”
He nodded, exhaled, then excused himself from the table.
“You’ve got yourself one of the good ones, there.” The comment came from Darlene, seated at Maggie’s elbow. She and her husband were younger than the rest of the donors at the table, probably only in their late forties compared to the elderly contingent.
Maggie watched Blake weave along the side of the room to where a stage had been set up. “Thank you.”
“I mean it. Smart, charming, civic-minded, committed to his community, easy on the eyes; he’s the whole package.” She nudged Maggie.
Maggie wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Was Darlene making a pass at Blake through Maggie? Darlene was here with her husband, for god’s sake. He was in conversation with an older man to his right, something about shipping lanes or similar.
Darlene must have seen Maggie floundering, because she smiled more gently. “Don’t lose that one, right? He’s a real catch.”
“Sure.” Maggie was dizzy, but she hadn’t had more than the one glass of champagne.
She took a large gulp of ice water, the glass sweating cold droplets against her fingertips.
“He’s definitely something.” She wasn’t sure that sounded complimentary enough, so she added, “I’m glad to be with him.
” Which was true, of course. She was glad to be with him here, glad to be sharing a condo with him, glad to be friends.
Why couldn’t they get into something different together? Would a romantic relationship really be a bad idea? She’d said she wasn’t going to trust anyone like that, and her independence was too valuable to fuck it all up, but maybe she could be with someone without sacrificing that independence.
Except it was Blake. She liked him, she was obviously attracted to him, and they’d probably have a great time in bed, but he was a gentleman.
And no matter how she might talk online about assholes on the internet, and how few men were gentlemen anymore, she wanted a guy in bed who fucked her like the Pimpernel.
Maybe she was a hypocrite. She wanted to meet up with the Pimpernel, but watching Blake across the room in his tuxedo, adjusting his horn-rimmed glasses as he spoke to the AV team, she knew she wanted to take Blake to bed as well.
She couldn’t think about the Pimpernel right now.
Chauvel was in the same room, his presence looming over every Pimpernel-related thought.
Monday felt an impossibly long way away.
Now, her attention rested with Blake, and with all the various possibilities she wasn’t quite ready to entertain with him.
He caught her eye from across the room and smiled, and warm fuzzy feelings blossomed inside her.
Shit. She was in deeper than she thought.