Mystic Park (Finding Home 4) - Page 107

A slow-building roar of approval sounded behind them. Benita looked around and saw her morning jogging and walking companions watching them from a distance.

She shook her head. “There really isn’t any privacy in Trinity Falls, is there?”

“Does that bother you so much?”

“No, because I don’t care who knows that I love you like crazy.” She tightened her grip on his hands and tugged him to his feet. “It took me long enough, but I’ve finally found my home, and it’s right here in your arms.”

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A CHRISTMAS KISS

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CHAPTER 1

“Picture this.” June Cale made her pitch for the Kwanzaa presentation from the threadbare seat in front of her boss’s desk at the Guiding Light Community Center. It was Monday morning, the second day of November. They were running out of time. “Saturday afternoon before Thanksgiving, our community room is set up like an auditorium. A makeshift stage is built in

front of the room. Doctor Quincy Spates, professor of African American History at Trinity Falls University, stands on the stage. From a podium, he leads a free discussion on the seven values of Kwanzaa.”

Benjamin Brooks, the center’s new director and her boss of two months, lowered his coffee mug. As usual, his handsome sienna features were hard to read, emotionless. The Iceman. “How does a free presentation raise money for the center?”

“It’s not a fund-raiser.” June adjusted the project folder on her lap. “Doctor Spates’s discussion is a community-engagement event. The goal of this event is to help strengthen our relationship with the community, which will—hopefully—make it easier to persuade them to support the center.”

June considered her boss’s conservative blue tie and the snow-white linen shirt that hugged his well-muscled shoulders. They both looked expensive—and out of place in the worn and faded office. Why had Benjamin Brooks really returned home to Trinity Falls?

Like his youngest brother, Vaughn, who was a professor of music at Trinity Falls University, Benjamin Brooks was a dangerously attractive man. His dark brown hair was cut neat and close. His square jaw was clean shaven. Piercing ebony eyes beneath thick dark eyebrows dominated his chiseled features. June’s tripping pulse wasn’t all due to nerves.

Yes, Ben Brooks is a good-looking man. But right now, I want to shake him silly.

“Has Quincy agreed to do the Kwanzaa presentation?” Benjamin wrapped his coffee mug between his hands. Was he trying to warm them? His office was like an ice box.

“I asked him to hold the date. But I need to confirm with him.” June’s nerves were tingling again. Benjamin was a lot less enthusiastic than she’d hoped.

“You’re not giving him much time. Today’s November second.” Benjamin’s gaze settled somewhere behind June. She assumed he was consulting the twelve-month calendar his predecessor had posted to the wall. “The Saturday before Thanksgiving is November twenty-first, less than three weeks away.”

“If you approve of the idea, I’ll invite him today.” June waited for him to say the words.

June had approached Quincy when she’d started her position as deputy director and fund-raising manager in August. He’d agreed to hold the date. However, she hadn’t wanted to confirm the event until her new boss had settled in after his September start date. With one center crisis after another, time had slipped away and the November date had rushed up on her.

“What else do you have?” Benjamin settled back on his gray cushioned chair. He seemed underwhelmed.

June regrouped. “Picture this. The community room transformed into a winter wonderland. Traditional Christmas dishes and desserts served in a winding buffet line while Christmas carols and secular pop songs provide music for a dinner dance.” June saw it in her mind’s eye. The image made her smile.

“Didn’t a special community fund-raising committee just host a party for the center?” Again, Benjamin appeared less than impressed.

“That was in January. It was a twentieth anniversary party for the center.” June had heard around town that the event had been an incredible success.

“We shouldn’t host a fund-raising party in January, then another in December. That’s overkill.” Tension seemed to hover around Benjamin like a cloud. Why?

“Going forward, I think we should host a Christmas dinner dance. Then, the center’s anniversary in January could be our annual online day of giving.”

“What’s that?”

“Giving Tuesdays are national examples of days of giving. We’ll focus all our energies on one day, the center’s birthday, and ask people to either make a donation online or mail a check. I’m working on a process for the project.”

“It sounds like a good idea.” Benjamin nodded as he sipped more coffee.

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