“You have another goal tonight,mo chroi.” I’m practically gasping for breath now.
“Is that so?”
“To ravish me, of course,” I whisper.
He stalks up behind me, tracing my side with his finger. “Anything for you.” He kisses my cheek before abruptly walking away.
I release a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. I’m brought back to reality when Carla bounces up to me with a mic in her hand.
“Alright boss babe, you’re up.” She rushes me to the stage.Crap, speech time.
“Welcome, everyone, to Lighthouse’s Masquerade and Silent Auction. It is my pleasure and honor to be your host. My name is Teresa Bjorn, the current Call Center and Shelter Project Manager. Basically, that’s a fancy title to say that I work for the community. The Lighthouse Foundation is one of the few city agencies that helps those individuals experiencing homelessness and domestic violence. It is a time in their life where they feel there is no hope. That is where the Lighthouse Foundation comes to play where we can shine hope back into their lives. So, when I say I work for the community, I work for people. I like to think that they’re the superheroes, and we’re the sidekicks working for them.” I see nods and hear light claps around the room.
“Now, why should you keep donating time and money to an organization if the problem isn’t ending? Homelessness and domestic violence will ever end, unfortunately. We are just one city, in a big state, in a big country, in a big world. Still, even the smallest ray of hope can brighten the biggest room. Here at Lighthouse Foundation, we are that ray of hope, that beacon in the darkness. Your attendance, your attention, and yes, your money, will help so many have that second chance and perhaps be a light of hope for others to come. So, eat, drink, talk with our team members, dance, and even bid on some of those illustrious packages graciously donated by partners and donors within our very city. Thank you.” Applause follows me down the stairs. To my surprise, more people than usual seem to congregate at the bidding table. Maybe this year, we’ll make our goal after all.
Joaquin and Matthew circle around the room, surveying it. I wonder when the plan is going to kick in; I’m definitely getting nervous. Suddenly, I’m tapped on the shoulder to find Mr. Javert standing behind me with two champagne flutes.
“Ms. Bjorn, what a marvelous speech. Both empowering and the truth in excellent words. I tip my hat to you.” He hands me a flute and we clink them together.
“Thank you. This is my home, and I was raised to take care of it. Now, I’m curious Mr. Javert..”
“Please, call me Jonathan. Mr. Javert is too formal.”
“Okay, Jonathan.” I smile politely.
“I am glad to see, Ms. Bjorn, that you are not a wolf in sheep's clothing,” he notes, practically murmuring at this point.
I furrow my brows. “What do you mean?”
“Your heart is pure and not ill-intentioned. You are a humble creature.”
I cock my head in confusion. “I like to think there’s a hidden wolf somewhere inside me, ready to fight and protect its own. This community is my own.” He nods his head in agreement.
“How do you know Sheldon?” I take a sip of the drink as I attempt to change the conversation.
“Oh, Sheldon. What a dear friend. I finally was able to convince him to help me get your boss, Mr. Connors, to work on a project with me. I don’t think Mr. Connors is fully convinced, but Sheldon and I have been working on it for quite some time.” Something in the pit of my stomach churns; something’s not adding up. I play along, keeping my face pleasant.
“What is it that you do?”
He looks at me curiously. “I work in transportation.” He says it like I should have already known. Soft instrumental chords plays through the room. He sets down his glass and extends out a hand. “Do me the honor of a dance?” I gasp for an answer, but before I can say no, he takes me by the hand. My heart sinks, expecting Alexander to come through the crowd.
Jonathan sways with the music, giving me time to spin. He smiles at me, but I try not to give any more attention than necessary. He looks down at me, and I smell a bit of cigar smoke. “Ms. Bjorn, how does a young woman like yourself not have someone wrapped around their finger?” He peers down at me, searching my eyes for an answer.
“Who says I don’t?” I look back at him, confused as why he’d be asking. He blushes a bit at his mistake. “My apologies. I ask because I saw a bid sheet for “a date with Teresa Bjorn” on the table. Am I mistaken?”
I freeze. I’m at a loss for words. “Excuse me for a moment,” I mumble as I back away, rushing to the back of the room with the bid sheets.. Before I make it to the table, I’m yanked by the arm, annoying me greatly, only to find a pissed off Alexander, chest heaving with anger.
“Teresa.”
I practically breathe fire in his direction. “Alexander, this isn’t the time.”
He only pulls me closer. “I know it’s your job to play the room, but that doesn’t mean you can get cozy with them.”
I’m not about to let this slide. “If you’d get off your high horse, you’d find out that I wasn’t trying to dance with Jonathan, but he pulled on the floor before I could say no.” His face rears back, like I’d smacked him.
“Jonathan?”
“Yes, friend of Sheldon’s, apparently. Why do you look like something ran over your bike?”