pull her hair out.
She glanced up at the dress hanging from her file cabinet. At least she had something to look forward to once she got through this last phone call. She’d been waiting all week for dinner with Frank, and the form-fitting, sequined gown was a perfect mix of naughty and nice. Not to mention, it went perfectly with the shoes Savannah had recommended.
A woman with a deep Southern drawl finally came on the line. “Yeah, we can feed that many people, but it will double your quote.”
“But this is a charity event, Miss Rosa.”
“And I have a business to run,” the woman answered.
Time to play hardball. “A business that rose to prominence because my daddy endorsed it when you were just starting out.”
Miss Rosa didn’t reply immediately, and Kiana took advantage of the woman’s hesitation. “This foundation was my daddy’s dream, and I’m doing my best to keep it alive. I’m over the moon that the anticipated attendance for the gala has doubled, but I want to keep as much money as I can for the kids. Please, can you give me a little discount? If not for the foundation, then at least as a thank-you for all my daddy did for you when he was alive?”
Some muted grumbles filled the line, followed by the drone of sedating music.
Shit! On hold again.
This time, however, it only lasted for a couple of minutes. “If I give you a ten percent discount, will you provide me with a receipt so I can claim it as a tax deduction?” Miss Rosa countered.
Kiana nearly jumped out of her chair. “Deal!”
“I’m already cutting you a better deal than most of my clients, after all, and this is a last-minute adjustment.”
“I know, Miss Rosa, and thank you so much for accommodating all the extra guests. Thank you, thank you.”
“One more thing.” Miss Rosa lowered her voice and added, “My boy is a huge fan of Frank Kelly, and his birthday is coming up. If you could get him to sign something for him—”
“Consider it done.” It shouldn’t be too hard to convince Frank to sign a football or a jersey for a teenage boy.
“Thank you, Kiana.” The caterer hung up, and Kiana sprang from her desk to change for dinner.
Night had fallen over Atlanta, and the skyscrapers glittered on the horizon. The clear weather came at a cost. A cold front had moved through this morning, and the temperature had dropped over thirty degrees from when she left the house. Suddenly, those strappy sandals didn’t look so appealing. But it would all be worth it when she saw the look on Frank’s face.
The dress dated back to before she’d gotten pregnant, thus requiring her heavy-duty Spanx. There was no way she’d ever come close to getting her pre-baby body back without the use of the constrictive Lycra undergarment. She tugged at the high-waisted shorts for several minutes before she squeezed all of her generous curves inside, sweat prickling along her forehead. But once the dress slipped on over the Spanx, the effort was worth it.
She applied some smoky eye shadow to her light brown eyes and a burgundy shade of lipstick that was far too daring for the day job, but perfect for a night out. Once the makeup was set, she reached for her shoes and sat down on the small sofa in her office to strap them on.
She was in process of buckling the second one when she heard a knock.
Frank filled the doorway, his tie hanging loosely around his neck like he’d started to take it off. The dark blue suit complemented his eyes, but the perturbed expression on his face captured her attention and made her heart lurch. “It’s a little late for that,” he said and pointed to the clock on the wall behind her desk.
7:52 PM.
Shit!
An icy river of dread filled her veins, and her explanation stumbled forth. “Frank, I’m so sorry. I just lost track of the time. I—”
The words froze on her tongue as he stepped toward her. Memories of how Malcolm would find any excuse to hit her overrode everything she knew about Frank. All
She glanced up at the dress hanging from her file cabinet. At least she had something to look forward to once she got through this last phone call. She’d been waiting all week for dinner with Frank, and the form-fitting, sequined gown was a perfect mix of naughty and nice. Not to mention, it went perfectly with the shoes Savannah had recommended.
A woman with a deep Southern drawl finally came on the line. “Yeah, we can feed that many people, but it will double your quote.”
“But this is a charity event, Miss Rosa.”
“And I have a business to run,” the woman answered.
Time to play hardball. “A business that rose to prominence because my daddy endorsed it when you were just starting out.”
Miss Rosa didn’t reply immediately, and Kiana took advantage of the woman’s hesitation. “This foundation was my daddy’s dream, and I’m doing my best to keep it alive. I’m over the moon that the anticipated attendance for the gala has doubled, but I want to keep as much money as I can for the kids. Please, can you give me a little discount? If not for the foundation, then at least as a thank-you for all my daddy did for you when he was alive?”
Some muted grumbles filled the line, followed by the drone of sedating music.
Shit! On hold again.
This time, however, it only lasted for a couple of minutes. “If I give you a ten percent discount, will you provide me with a receipt so I can claim it as a tax deduction?” Miss Rosa countered.
Kiana nearly jumped out of her chair. “Deal!”
“I’m already cutting you a better deal than most of my clients, after all, and this is a last-minute adjustment.”
“I know, Miss Rosa, and thank you so much for accommodating all the extra guests. Thank you, thank you.”
“One more thing.” Miss Rosa lowered her voice and added, “My boy is a huge fan of Frank Kelly, and his birthday is coming up. If you could get him to sign something for him—”
“Consider it done.” It shouldn’t be too hard to convince Frank to sign a football or a jersey for a teenage boy.
“Thank you, Kiana.” The caterer hung up, and Kiana sprang from her desk to change for dinner.
Night had fallen over Atlanta, and the skyscrapers glittered on the horizon. The clear weather came at a cost. A cold front had moved through this morning, and the temperature had dropped over thirty degrees from when she left the house. Suddenly, those strappy sandals didn’t look so appealing. But it would all be worth it when she saw the look on Frank’s face.
The dress dated back to before she’d gotten pregnant, thus requiring her heavy-duty Spanx. There was no way she’d ever come close to getting her pre-baby body back without the use of the constrictive Lycra undergarment. She tugged at the high-waisted shorts for several minutes before she squeezed all of her generous curves inside, sweat prickling along her forehead. But once the dress slipped on over the Spanx, the effort was worth it.
She applied some smoky eye shadow to her light brown eyes and a burgundy shade of lipstick that was far too daring for the day job, but perfect for a night out. Once the makeup was set, she reached for her shoes and sat down on the small sofa in her office to strap them on.
She was in process of buckling the second one when she heard a knock.
Frank filled the doorway, his tie hanging loosely around his neck like he’d started to take it off. The dark blue suit complemented his eyes, but the perturbed expression on his face captured her attention and made her heart lurch. “It’s a little late for that,” he said and pointed to the clock on the wall behind her desk.
7:52 PM.
Shit!
An icy river of dread filled her veins, and her explanation stumbled forth. “Frank, I’m so sorry. I just lost track of the time. I—”
The words froze on her tongue as he stepped toward her. Memories of how Malcolm would find any excuse to hit her overrode everything she knew about Frank. All
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