To Have And To Hold Ch 07

Song for this chapter: Sonny Cleveland - Bring It on Back

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Seven: Let's be inappropriate.

My first few days at McMillan&Foyth have been incredibly challenging and equally rewarding. I have been assigned an office next to Patrick's, that gives me an incredible view of New Downtown from the 17th floor. I have decorated exactly as my previous space at Little Topher, except I added a new picture frame that holds the last photo of the staff on closing day.

Life has been relatively calm for the past 3 days. And because I'm not a happy-go-lucky person, I'm naturally suspicious anytime things seem to be going right. The auction night had left me hopeless, but somehow everything appears to be in alignment for me. I have tried to occupy myself in the project I was hired to execute. So, I've been busy... too busy. And that's always a good thing.

Christopher is now officially in the far back of my mind. I, last saw him 6 days ago. And neither he nor I have attempted to contact each other. That's as clear a message as one could ask for, but my traitor heart still craves for an apology.

It's early Thursday morning. I'm sitting in my office transfixed with all the documents I have to collate for our project, when my desk phone rings.

"Yes?" I say looking intently at the PDF in front of me.

"Alexandra, we have a problem. Can you come to my office, please?" it's Patrick.

"Sure, be right there."

I knew it. Natural suspicion when only good things are happening.

I go to his office, and when I open the door I see Patrick visibly upset.

"What's going on?" I say narrowing my eyes.

"I just got a call from my dad, he's hosting a fellowship business dinner at my parent's home. He wants me to pitch my non-profit for an open bid investment tomorrow night," he's typing relentlessly on his laptop.

"But, we need at least one more week before we can have a viable pitch."

"I told my father the same thing, but he insists that I attend. I need us to get as much done as we can by tomorrow. Can I count on you?"

"Yes, of course. In fact, I have a few observations that I want to run by you."

"Great, let's see what you've got!"

We discuss our current sales deck and I go over the planning and execution phase, suggesting changes. By lunchtime, we had pretty much readjusted the first half of the project. Patrick was very open to constructive criticism, and I felt safe knowing that he respected my professional opinion.

We decided to skip lunch and just continued working. He helped me understand the project from a financial perspective like projections on revenues and expenses, something I really have no experience in.

By the end of the day I was beat. We had been in his office for 10 hours, working non-stop.

"This is great stuff we have here," Patrick is smiling for the first time today. "Your observations were spot on."

"We still have so much work, though. But don't worry we'll get you ready for tomorrow," I reassure him.

"You mean us," he stares at me with a puzzled look.

"What do you mean us? You don't seriously expect me to pitch, do you? You know I've never done it," my eyes are open in alert.

"Alexandra, with the changes we've made, the whole concept is all you. I'd do you a disservice by not letting you sell this yourself."

"I don't mind you doing it. I'll come if you need me to, but I just don't know if I'm ready."

"No. That's not the attitude someone as capable as you should have. I know you can do it, and you will. I'll take over finances and will add to your talk when needed."

"Patrick I-"

"Alexandra, please. I know what I'm doing," he gives me a warm smile.

I won't lie, I've always been intrigued by sales pitching. Not only that, but I had been in many meetings before, learning from Alfred and his eloquent speech. However, this was Patrick's entire immediate future we're talking about, of course I'd doubt.

"I'm committed to helping you, so I will give it my very best," I finish. We work some last details and clock out.

I get home and my body is screaming at me for a shower and bedtime. Karen has dinner ready, so I have some food, we do small talk and go our separate ways.

-

It's Friday, business dinner day. I'm rushing to get to work early, so we can continue on what's left in our sales deck. When I get to the office, Patrick is already there. He looks restless, I can't imagine what's going through his mind.

We get settled in his office and go over the presentation. Come afternoon, we had everything in our capacity ready for tonight. We had to cut things in half and work on a short but effective pitch.

"I think we are ready," Patrick tells me.

"As ready as we can be," I smile reassuringly.

"Well, dinner is at 8 P.M. but I suggest we drive there at least an hour earlier, to prep. I'll come pick you up and drop you off, if that's ok. Also, let's be out of here by 4 today, so we get time to cool off and get ready," Patrick tells me.

"That's great, I would appreciate the lift and the time to get ready. Where do your parents live?"

"Calabasas."

"Of course," I make a 'hello' gesture, and he laughs.

"It'll be a tough crowd, Alexandra. Though I'm not sure who's actually going to be there, these business dinners tend to be difficult to get through when you're on this side. But, I know how it works, because I've been on the other side too."

"Well, if I fail it won't be because I didn't give it my all," I tell him.

We get some more work done, and by 4 we are out.

-

I'm in Karen's room trying to find an appropriate formal cocktail dress, as Patrick suggested. I don't own a lot of fancy clothes, but Karen is the queen of fancy, so she had agreed to letting me borrow anything I needed.

I go for a black body-con. It's got a straight neckline and ruffled straps. The length hits just below the knee. It's modestly sexy. I choose a pair of wine red velvet pointed pumps, and Karen's diamond earrings to go with.

If I was to pitch a project, I would have to look the part, and if empowerment had a look, this would be it.

After a good relaxing shower, I get my hair ready in my usual beach waves and do my makeup.

I put my dress on and adjust the seams. Looking in the mirror I can feel it, my self-confidence is gaining momentum. Patrick trusts me, and he has made it clear that tonight is about the two of us doing the work. My first sales pitch, who would've thought it?

"You may not control what happens tonight, but refuse to be affected by it," I tell myself. On queue there's a text message from Patrick, he's outside.

I grab my briefcase and leave my room.

"Wow, look at you," I hear Karen say. "Lexie, you look amazing! So fearless," she laughs.

"It's all you. I thank God every day for our twinning sizes," I hug her.

"You are going to be great. You deserve this opportunity, so seize it."

We say goodbye and I head out. As I come down the stairs, Patrick gets out of his car, and rushes to get the door for me.

"You look very nice," he says.

"Thank you. I said I was going to do my best," I bow a little, and he laughs. "Look at you!" I point at his outfit from top to bottom. He smiles and motions for me to get in.

The drive to Calabasas made a good preamble, but when we arrive at his home I suddenly feel my stomach in knots. The McMillan residence isn't just a residence, it's a mansion. The circular driveway alone is three times the size of my apartment. There are lights everywhere coming from the 20+ windows on the front side and a large outer concrete staircase that leads to the main entrance.

"Shocked?" he asks, and I nod in response. "The inside is even more obscene," he adds, joking.

"You're not helping," I laugh.

"I'm right beside you, you'll be fine."

We go up the stairs and I notice a butler is waiting for us. He smiles when he sees Patrick and nods when he sees me.

"Clive," Patrick addresses the older man.

"Sir, always good to have you back."

"Thanks, Clive. Good to see you too. This is Alexandra Summers, my colleague."

"My pleasure, Miss Summers," Clive says offering a small bow and I greet him back.

"Full house?" Patrick asks.

"Halfway there, Sir." Clive gets the door for us, and we go in.

Patrick was absolutely right, the inside of the mansion is beyond obscene. The receiving lobby is a massive oval space, decorated with modern ceramic statues, a double staircase with a polished wood railing and a huge chandelier right in the middle of the roof.

"Clive, please tell my parents we'll be in the study."

"Sir."

Patrick guides me to a hall on the right of the lobby and at the end of the corridor are two black doors that lead to the study.

"Let's go over a few details, I don't want us to see anyone until we go to the meeting room. It's better for first impressions," he pulls out his iPad and opens the presentation.

After a good while we are joined by his parents. They both welcome us and share the agenda for tonight. His parents then make way to the meeting room to greet the incoming guests. A moment later Clive announces that we are expected.

"Ok, Alexandra. It's showtime. Ready?"

"Let's do this," I say confidently.

We walk back across the lobby to the other wing of the house. I could hear the chatter as we approached the meeting room. My heart pounds and I feel my throat closing up. Clive opens the door for us to go in, and as we do the chatter stops. Patrick had instructed me to only look his way until we were introduced, so I wouldn't panic, but out of the corner of my eye I feel someone's gaze.

A hot prickle of magnetism spreads across my skin. I turn to my left, and my eyes meet his.

Oh no, no no no.

At the head of the table sits Christopher Levenson, looking at me with intensity. His eyebrows were raised and his mouth was slightly open. I could feel the blood draining from my face. In a second, everything I had planned for tonight was drastically changed by a crack in the planet.

Leonard, Patrick's dad, approaches us recovering my attention. He handed two remotes that controlled the gigantic led monitor where our presentation was being displayed. Leonard steps forward to address the crowd, and I stand still next to Patrick, avoiding any eye contact with Christopher.

"Are you alright? You're blanched," Patrick tells me, putting his hand on my middle back. I instinctively look at Christopher. He's looking straight at Patrick with undeniable rage.

"I didn't think so many people would show up," my voice barely coming out.

"It'll be ok. Acknowledge them but remember that I am your focal point."

I nod.

Make him your focal point.

"Dear friends and colleagues, thank you all for joining Maryanne and me on this incredible evening we have ahead of us. As you know, my son Patrick has ventured into non-profits and tonight particularly, he will be pitching his own project. We shall discuss interest, if any, at a later stage of the meeting."

Patrick steps forward and begins our introduction. I'm surprisingly drawn into his speech, there wasn't an ounce of worry or doubt in his voice. He commands the mood with the same ease he commanded my interview.

That's what he meant when he said he knew what it was like being on the other side.

As if an epiphany, then and there, I take control of my emotions.

"So without further ado, I leave you with my brilliant colleague, Alexandra Summers," he looks back at me and motions for me to take over.

This is it. Take it away.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. It is with great pleasure that I stand here before you. In the next hour, Patrick and I will be walking you through this great project we have prepared. The major outcome that we expect from this meeting is that we help change your outlook on how educational non-profit's obligations should be approached," I turn to Patrick, and he nods with a smile.

Clicking on the remote button, I break away from fear, and let the adrenaline guide my pitch.

"We present to you, LUMINARIA, a McMillan STEM program for Children and Youth. Conceived as a nonprofit organization, LUMINARIA is committed to improving educational outcomes, and college readiness in Science, Technology, Engineering and Mathematics for all qualifying students in the foster care system. The data on the achievement gap between students in foster care and those who aren't, highlights the need of leveling opportunity for the least fortunate..."

I felt like an alter-ego took control of me. I went over our presentation with confidence and certainty that I was doing the right thing. Patrick would only nod, motivating me to keep going. The slides kept flowing, and the pitch kept coming out. Any questions that were raised, I managed to answer, and almost forty minutes later I was closing my speech.

"We have reached the last part of our presentation today, and if I had to summarize the last 40 minutes, I would want to leave you with this; our program seeks to empower foster care students across the U.S. with the tools and skill sets to compete in the global economy. But we want to do so by eliminating the label of 'undeserving students' because of their race, gender and socioeconomic status. Government policies are failing our children and youth, but so are you as heads of the economy."

Their faces immediately straighten. My eyes unintentionally meet Christopher's, and he can't hide his amusement. While the rest of the people were looking at the big monitor, he was only looking at me.

"The biggest donations in education in the last 20 years have gone to the elite universities and schools that you and your families have attended. So, we agree that most of the elite philanthropy is about elite causes. The approach the majority of non-profits funded by powerful people sustain, doesn't celebrate those who bring humanity closer or make our lives better but rather those who make the most profit. LUMINARIA is looking to raise the ordinary meaning of charity into the extraordinary celebration of the traits that bring people together. Thank you very much for your time. Patrick will take over on projections and investment profitability."

I look at Patrick, and he has the biggest smile I have seen him wear since we met. I step back and a sense of relief washes over me. He carries on with the presentation effortlessly, digging in the hardest part, the money talk. I could feel Christopher's eyes on me.

My traitor heart.

Even after what had happened, our unspoken connection was intact. Still, I avoided his gaze.

"I have a few questions," Christopher says looking at Patrick, and I recognize that tone. That's ruthless Levenson.

What comes after is what I can only describe as a tennis set. Back and forth, back and forth, everybody in the room literally looking from side to side. Christopher isn't asking questions, he's harassing Patrick with intricate financial probing.

At one point he looks at me, smirking, and I give him a look of bitter disapproval of his childish behavior. Because I know what he's doing. I see his body tense and his smirk disappears at the look on my face.

"That would be all," he says.

Patrick gives the final words, and we both meet halfway, smiling at each other.

As Leonard takes over the meeting, Patrick guides me to the side. "That was amazing, Alexandra. I don't know how to thank you. Really, amazing work."

"It's my job. I'm only happy I can be of help. This is your project, and it will succeed," I put my hand on his back.

Out of the twenty potential investors in here tonight, twelve made a bid. Twelve people wanted in on LUMINARIA. Twelve including Christopher. I was shocked when I saw him make an offer before anybody else. I had the feeling he was going to bid the highest, and the thought didn't sit well with me.

"Alexandra, are you listening?" I hear Patrick say.

"What?"

"We're headed to the main room to have some champagne before dinner, are you coming?" he says mocking my distraction. I smile and follow his lead.

When we get to the main room, I take a flute with champagne from the waiter and down it.

"Whoa. Easy," I hear Patrick say.

I was about to answer when I see Christopher coming into the main room, his eyes immediately set on me. He looks so incredibly handsome. Wearing ankle length slacks in gray, his classic white dress shirt and a navy blue blazer. His beard had grown... "I need to use the restroom. Adrenaline rush," I tell Patrick in a poor attempt to distance myself from my inner thoughts.

"Upstairs, third door to the right."

I excuse myself and head upstairs. This mansion keeps getting larger and larger the more I walk. After using the restroom, I step out and start to head back downstairs, but as I reach the staircase I notice an incredibly large built-in bookshelf that's at the very end across the hall. Drawn to it, I move in its direction and begin to go over the books, sliding my finger on each spine. There must be about 1000 books on here. One of them particularly grabs my full attention.

Everything Scrabble by Joe Edley and John D. Williams Jr.

It's a first edition. I open the book and go through its pages, smiling like an idiot. This one small find is the highlight of my night, for sure. I miss my Scrabble Club at Little Topher. Maybe we could have scrabble night once a—

"Entertained?"

My thoughts are interrupted. I turn and see Christopher looking at me, then turning his gaze to the book I'm holding.

"Very."

He walks towards me, blatantly checking me out. I feel glued to the ground, unable to move.

"You look incredibly beautiful, Alexandra."

"Yes, Christopher. It's good to see you too," I tell him annoyed.

"Your audacious mouth never disappoints."

"It's a surprise finding you here. Stalking me again?" I close the book and put it back on the shelf.

"Not today," he turns to the shelf and grabs the same book. "Everything Scrabble," he raises an eyebrow and looks up at me.

"One of Britain's greatest publications," I say, sardonically, and he laughs.

We stand there looking into each other's eyes, and there's warmth around us. I can feel it, and he can too.

"You were brilliant, tonight. I'm very proud of you."

"I should head ba—."

"I owe you an apology," he breaks in. "I know this should've happened a week ago, but I was so mad at myself for what I put you through. I said things that hurt you, and I didn't want to make it worse."

I shake my head as if not wanting to hear his excuses.

"I know you don't want to hear about this, but Laura and me...we are just business partners."

I roll my eyes at him.

"Alexandra, just let me explain, because there's more to it than you may believe."

"Try," I tell him with obvious bother.

"Her father and my father had an agreement to hand over a good portion of assets for us to handle if we got married. She and I, we are both incredibly business driven. That's about the only thing we have in common. We had agreed to do it and take it for what it was, a profitable agreement. The night of the auction, she was supposed to be in Europe, but my father convinced her to be there, and the rest... well, you know the rest," I hadn't noticed he was still holding the scrabble book until he half turned to put it back.

"I deserved to know about her, regardless of the nature of your engagement, you should have told me."

"Yes, yes I should have. My history with women... it's not pretty. I'm not the one to create emotional bonds or share my private life. I thought that our contract would unbind me from any responsibility."

"And you take pride on that fact?" I look away in disbelief. "We shouldn't be here, I've been absent for too long."

"Wait. Look I don't know how to do this, alright? I've never apologized before. This isn't... easy for me," he runs his hand through his hair. "Alexandra, I will be honest, gut-wrenching honest. It's the only way I know. When I first saw you at my building, I wanted to fuck you. But the moment I got near you, my mind was blown away. You were so feisty, so passionate, and so achingly beautiful... you halted me in my tracks. Those brief 10 minutes I exchanged with you were enough to confuse me."