Page 12 of Remembering Passion

“You know my name is Walter.” He smiled, his wrinkles growing deeper. “I was disappointed to hear you weren’t presenting my award.”

“Oh, there was a big fight.” I lifted my eyebrows. “I lost.”

He patted my shoulder. “Then I insist on a dance.”

“Of course.”

As the nearly eighty-year-old man walked away, Damien leaned close to my ear. “Your dance card is full.”

“Mr. Phillips is hardly a threat.”

Damien’s smile quirked. “Maybe not, but I’ll be standing by.”

Bread, followed by salads, followed by side dishes and entrees—I watched the room as I participated in the conversation at our table. Unlike the last two galas, I’d been put in charge of the planning committee. I’d put more effort into arranging this gala than flying in at the last minute. And as the evening progressed, the hard work and planning were paying off.

After the awards and speeches, a dividing wall moved. A dance floor appeared as the room darkened, and the air filled with the sounds of a string quartet.

“I’m going to guess that leaving early isn’t an option,” Damien whispered.

“You may leave whenever you want.”

“Not a chance. I made an offer. I won’t be stepping away prematurely.”

“To walk me back to my room?”

His smile grew. “That’s part of it.”

With the rumble of his voice and the curl of his smile, my insides twisted, and my nipples tightened. Nevertheless, I did my best to appear unaffected. “No worries, Niles can escort me.”

Donovan Sherman cleared his throat. “Damien, thank you for making the trip. I’m afraid I’m not much of a dancer without my wife.”

Damien stood and shook Donovan’s hand. “Coffee in the morning.”

Donovan nodded and turned to me. “Gabriella, it was a pleasure. I will match last year’s donation. Wade Pharmaceutical is pleased to help Beta Kappa Phi with their objectives.”

Match.

His match would bring us very close to our goal.

“Thank you, Mr. Sherman.”

“Van, please. Any friend of Damien’s…”

“Van,” I said, “Please give your wife our best. We hope she can make it next year.”

“I’ll let her know.”

“How much more do you need?” Damien asked.

I shook my head. “I’m not taking your money.”

“Then I’ll talk to Niles.”

“No. This is my job,” I said, standing.

Damien met me as we both stood. “You’re fantastic, Ella. Even though Van left me here alone, I’m not leaving until you do.”

“Those boys are probably sleeping it off by now.”

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