“Friday evenings are usually casual, a time to catch up.”
Casual.
Then why was I dressed in designer business attire?
At nearly six o’clock, the final members of the coalition arrived. Cynthia Broche and her husband, Ian Morrison, from Broche, a multigenerational pharmaceutical company out of Michigan that was best known for asthma and allergy health products and drugs. Such as with Julia and Wade Pharmaceutical, Cynthia was the Broche heiress. And unlike Van who wasn’t as involved in Wade, Ian had been at his wife’s side in the running of Broche for nearly forty years.
As more people arrived, our group outgrew the conference room and moved downstairs to a larger meeting room. As Julia had said, the evening was spent more as a reunion than a meeting.
At some point, Julia pulled me aside and whispered. “Despite what Damien said, this coalition has created a connection that goes beyond business. As I said, tomorrow we’ll get deeper to the campaign. And as I’m sure you were told, tomorrow night is a cocktail and dinner party at our home. Don’t worry if you didn’t plan on formal wear.”
“Damien warned me.” A smile curled my lips as I looked around the room. “Everyone seems to get along.”
“Oh, they do—to a point.” Julia shrugged. “That’s just business. I have a hard time being cutthroat, unlike a few people we both know.” Her smile returned. “I make a good buffer and honestly, this coalition has been good for Wade. I couldn’t be happier.”
Lauren Cade, who I’d met earlier in the evening, joined Julia and me. “Julia, at tomorrow’s business meeting, I’m going to move that you are only allowed to host this weekend during the third quarter. How do you stand the cold?”
Julia laughed. “Dear, this isn’t cold. You should be here in January.”
The polite and friendly conversations continued until seven when the twelve of us walked down the street to a local pub where a small private room was reserved. As we were led inside by the hostess, I had a flashback of Damien’s private room at the steak house in Carmel. That room was twice the size of this one with only a table for two.
Damien’s hand came to the small of my back. “You’re a hit,” he whispered.
I pushed my hands into the pockets of my new coat. “I think it’s the coat.”
“No, it’s you.” He kissed my cheek. “You radiate confidence, and that’s what is needed with these kinds of people.”
“People like you.”
“You’re an expert at handling me.”
“That’s a tougher job than them.”
After I untied the belt, Damien helped me remove the coat.
Servers came and went as we all enjoyed our meal and drinks. Sitting at Damien’s side I took in the faces around the table. The age range was significant. Julia and I were the youngest, and if I were to guess, the Holstons were the oldest. I’d researched the net income of each company as well as the administrators’ salaries. Small pharma was a misnomer when it came to revenue. Add to that Donovan Sherman’s wealth and this room was overflowing with money. Yet we were eating hamburgers, fries, and salads, and drinking a variety of drinks—regular people.
That wasn’t completely true.
Tomorrow, these people would morph from who they were tonight into sharks, wanting to know what Beta Kappa Phi would and could do for them.
During the dinner, occasionally, Damien’s hand came under the table and rested on my thigh. His touch was reassuring and supportive. While the table hid our connection, I suspected we weren’t fooling the others with our characterization of friends. When I’d look at him, seeing his handsome smile, my heart would flutter. Were we fooling the others, or was I the fool for opening my life and heart again?
The Cades were the first to excuse themselves. Their departure opened the floodgates. Soon, I was standing, and Damien was helping me with my coat, and everyone was saying their good nights.
“Tomorrow, nine o’clock at Sherman Corporation,” Julia said. “My husband has been generous with his office building this weekend.”
Words of appreciation floated through the air.
“We’ll hit the ground running,” Julia said. “We have our business meeting, and then we’ll spend the afternoon with Ms. Crystal. Oh, and lunch is catered. There will be coffee and donuts at nine.”
Everyone nodded their agreement.
“We’ll see you tomorrow,” Damien said to the Shermans.
I reached for Julia’s hand. “Thank you for making me feel so welcome.”
Her smile beamed. “I’m not sure why, but Van likes Damien.” She laughed. “Okay, I do too. And after…” She shook her head. “Let’s say, it’s good to see him smile.”