Homecoming (17 page)

Rod took Cory’s hand and then kissed her fingers in what he obviously thought was a suave gesture.

“Oh, we’ve met,” Cory said with a coy smile.

“Now I’m sure I would have remembered meeting...someone like you.”

Jake crossed his arms to wait and see if she was headed where he thought she might be going.
Careful, Cory. This one plays by a whole new set of rules.

“But we chatted so recently on the phone,” she prompted as she offered Jake a quick glance, then pulled her lips into a little pout.

He nodded his approval. Could be entertaining if she kept the upper hand. And he had a feeling she would.

“You’re sure?” Rod asked, his voice sounding intrigued.

“Quite sure. Though I think you might have been having a bad day.”

“How so?”

Jake saw a tiny jaw muscle twitch in Rod’s face.
Go for the kill, Cory. He’s getting nervous.

“I’m afraid you told me the wrong time for the gala, Rod; but I confirmed the information. And it seems Jake’s speech didn’t really need to be checked out for tonight, now did it.” She stated it as fact, giving him no way to save face.

Jeez, girl, nothing like confronting the enemy head on.

Rod’s face paled nicely, and he turned on his heel to slither away. Jake didn’t really blame him. What could the man say?

“God. Jake. I don’t know what got into me—should I go apologize?”

“Hell, no.” He chuckled as he watched Rod take a seat at a table with a buxom blonde and another familiar looking couple he couldn’t quite recognize in the dim light, but he had a nasty feeling one of Rod’s tablemates was someone from Stuart Enterprises.

“You’re sure there won’t be some kind of fall-out?”

“Who cares? No, I like the fact that you probably just took ten years off his life calling him on his lie. If you keep this up, they’ll be falling like flies.”

“But, I didn’t mean to—”

“Nonsense. Who’s he going to tell?

She considered his question. “No one, I guess. What a jerk. And it’s no wonder he didn’t leave a message on your cell phone that day. Now it all makes sense. He couldn’t afford to leave proof of his underhandedness. What a snake.”

He nodded. “Try to enjoy the moment, Cory. You just had one of the juicy ones that don’t come along often enough where you say just the right thing. I enjoyed every bit of it. If you weren’t so dressed up, I’d make you give me a high five.”

Her eyes searched his, then he watched her relax, relief finally replacing the fear that she’d done some terrible thing.

“Hope you’re hungry; come with me Ms. Barracuda. Our table awaits.”

***

The meal was delectable and so beautifully presented it was a shame to disturb the plate to eat. Cory mentally filed away the unusual mixture of baby greens, pears, and nuts of the salad, wondering what ingredients had gone into the light dressing. The filet mignon was fork tender, with fresh asparagus and a cream sauce to die for, and baby red potatoes seasoned with some kind of magical blend of spices. Could potatoes really taste like that?

The other couple at the table were vegetarian, and even their meal of pasta primavera looked wonderful. The man was a lower level manager at Think Tank; his wife was quiet, only speaking if her husband drew her into the conversation. Is that what all the corporate wives were like?

Throughout dinner, other Think Tank employees stopped by the table to say hello to Jake, to mention how well projects were going that he undoubtedly had assigned to them.

After what seemed like a parade of employees finally dwindled, she whispered in his ear, “Brown-nosing the boss.” His clean scent pleasantly tickled her nose and she closed her eyes for a quick moment. She wanted to remember exactly what he smelled like. She wanted to remember every single moment of the evening.

He took her hand and brought her fingers to his lips, whispering back, “What they
really
want is to figure out who you are...The Mystery Woman.”

She searched his dancing eyes, trying to decide what he was feeling. Back in Faythe, after he’d shared his secret with her, they’d fallen into a comfortable, teasing repartee while they worked on his speech; now she suddenly realized she couldn’t be sure when he was being completely serious.

“Jake—”

Before she could continue, someone at the podium tapped a fork against a crystal goblet. Jake whispered to her that the man was the president and CEO of Pathfinders. He spoke passionately about the organization while a fast-paced PowerPoint presentation flashed on a huge screen that had lowered from the ceiling so it was positioned just above his head.

She leaned over to Jake. “No wonder your secretary wanted the company to sponsor them. What a great organization.”

They both joined in the applause at the end of his presentation.

“And next, please help me welcome Jake Randall, who is here tonight to say a few words about our largest corporate sponsor, Think Tank.”

Jake gave Cory’s hand a squeeze, then left the table to take his position at the podium.

***

Jake’s presentation was flawless and to Cory he seemed completely at ease in front of his peers—plus one snake named Rod—and a room full of people he didn’t know. From what he’d told her throughout dinner, the room was filled with politicians, the social elite of Chicago, and even a few television personalities.

And there he stood, smiling at the crowd, making the history and accomplishments of Think Tank sound like he was telling you the long awaited final chapter of a story you were dying to here.

He was simply amazing. No wonder he’d come so far in the company. He had found his niche. The perfect man in the perfect job.

When he’d finished, the audience laughed heartily at his ending line—just as he’d hoped. When everyone applauded, she watched as the president of Pathfinders gestured for Jake to have a seat on stage at the table next to the podium.

His face turned toward her and she noticed a slight shrug of one shoulder. In a moment, she watched as Jake directed his attention to the screen. A new presentation began—a black and white documentary that, with very little commentary, visually created the pictorial representation of a day in the life of a boy without a father.

Cory watched the short film, in awe of the way the pictures tugged at her heart, even made her tear up. Then the film showed the boy paired with a man—a man whose face was never revealed—and portrayed how the boy’s life had changed. His accomplishments and growth were made obvious and the film made her—and she assumed anyone who watched it—want to stand up and cheer for this boy who had found someone to help show him the way.

She glanced at the faces of others, and clearly saw their emotions playing at the surface. It was a very powerful film and whoever made it had successfully reached every heart in the room.

Everyone rose to their feet at once as the presentation ended, and the Pathfinders president announced it was to be a part of their new national campaign; that they were branching out of the Midwest, their goal to have Pathfinders in every state in the nation.

“And we have Jake Randall to thank for this,” the president said, sweeping his arm toward him.

Cory saw Jake’s brows come together in confusion.

The president waited until after the applause died down and everyone had taken their seats again, then said, “There is one more speaker to introduce, ladies and gentlemen. I’d like you to meet the creator of the film you’ve just enjoyed. This young man’s mother was instrumental in connecting our organization with Think Tank, and it was Jake Randall who mentored him. Well, let me bring out Daniel McCarthy and he can tell you his story.”

Cory watched as a tall, thin young black man stepped onto the platform, his face split in a wide grin. He first walked over to Jake to shake hands. Even from the distance, Cory saw them make the move to hug, stopping themselves as though they suddenly remembered they weren’t alone, and that there were several hundred pairs of eyes trained on their every move.

His secretary’s son? Cory watched Jake as his gaze followed Daniel as he went to the podium and raised the microphone.

“Good evening. I wanted to be here tonight to share a little of my own story, so you could put a human face on the tremendous good this organization can do for someone like me. I was lucky. My mom, who couldn’t be here tonight, hand-picked my mentor, who happened to be her boss. She can be a pretty persuasive woman when she puts her mind to something, and I’m glad she talked Jake Randall into being my mentor.”

As the room broke into applause, Jake felt his face redden. He searched the sea of faces for Cory’s. She wagged fingers at him, obviously enjoying his embarrassment. Had she known this was going to happen? She should have told him if she knew. Irritation simmered along with his growing uneasiness. He didn’t like surprises, being put in a position where he couldn’t prepare.

“Pathfinders is an incredible way for anyone, in any community, to make a difference in a young person’s life. All it takes is time and commitment. I was on a slow downward spiral; I had some serious problems that Jake helped me with because he understood what I was going through.”

God, was he going to talk about the reading and study tutors they’d shared? Jake felt his stomach lurch.
Please, Danny, just leave it alone.

“Jake Randall took time away from his job to help me, to be with me. Maybe at first it was because of my mom talking him into it, but I could tell he really cared. He cared about my success in life and helped me be what I am today. And I’m here this evening to personally thank Jake Randall...for helping me...find the right path.”

Jake stared at Daniel, relief washing over him at the ambivalence of his speech. He was shocked the kid felt he’d had that big of an effect on him. It made no sense. There were so many times Jake had been late for their meetings; forgetting outings until he’d had to call Daniel with some lame excuse he had to work and couldn’t be there and needed to reschedule. So many times he’d disappointed the boy and never made it up to him, just like his own old man had done to him.

Jake realized the crowd was on its feet, waiting for him to respond. He stood, then joined Daniel at the podium. They raised their hands together in a gesture of victory and his heart swelled.

The film Daniel had made showcased a talent the young man was giving
him
some kind of credit for. Nonsense. He knew it had to do more with courage, that Daniel had somehow found the courage to do the thing he loved the most. Make movies.

“It is my honor and privilege tonight,” Daniel continued, leaning into the microphone to make sure his words were heard, “to present Jake Randall with the very first Pathfinders ‘Mentor of the Year’ award, which will, from this day forward, be known as the Jacob Randall Award.”

The applause continued as Jake took the heavy statue in his hands. He held it closer to see the details; it was a finely sculpted bronze of a man and boy walking hand in hand on an uneven cobblestone path.

The flash of cameras brought him back to reality and he saw Pathfinders’ president at the end of the stage gesturing to them both to join him. Photographers appeared and he dutifully pasted a smile on his face knowing he’d be posing with countless officers of the Board of Directors who wanted a photo op. Soon dozens of people swarmed the area below the stage.

***

Jake blinked to help the flash-spots dissipate from his eyes, and finally caught a glimpse of Cory at the fringe of the crowd. She waved and mouthed “Go—I’m fine,” letting him know she at least appeared to understand that he’d now have to provide quotes for society page reporters covering the gala, and some sound bites for the local television news.

He nodded, mouthed a “thank you” and returned his attention to the small group in front of Daniel and him.

When at last he and Daniel had done their duty and he’d said for the umpteenth time how other businesses should lend their financial support to such a good organization, their job was done and the two were alone in the foyer.

“Mom says hi.”

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah. She’s the matriarch of our family and had to go to New Jersey and help out with some family decisions. Her aunt wanted to get a second medical opinion and was having trouble navigating her insurance.”

“I wish she could have seen this—”

“Oh, she got to see the film already and I think someone was taping the ceremony. She’ll see it when she gets home. I gotcha good, didn’t I?” Daniel asked, punching Jake’s shoulder.

“That you did.”

“You really like the film?”

“It should help make this year a record breaker for the organization as far as fund raising. You did good, Daniel.”

“You know I meant it all, right?”

Jake stared up at the boy—now a man—who stood in front of him in his elegant tux, standing at least a head taller than him now. “I guess I’m just a little surprised. I didn’t think I was that good at being there for you.”

“Oh,
man
. I can’t believe you.” A boy’s voice colored his retort. “Mom
said
you would have no idea—she was right. Man, you gotta believe you made a big difference for me. We studied hard together, remember? I’d push you, you’d harp on me if my grades slipped. We were a team. I friggin’ graduated with decent enough grades that I qualified for a scholarship to Chicago Creative Arts this year. Didn’t mom ever tell you?”