Page 12 of Evan

His ink black hair was brushed severely back from his face, his silver eyes hooded and expressionless.

He would do whatever it took to give his company a good reputation and he supposed that glad handing with some religious guy and his smiling members, would be the way, then so be it. It would take approximately half an hour, and he would be on his way.

The generous check would be noted, pictures will be taken and the same reporters who had printed some very nasty allegations would now turn around and applaud the company’s generosity towards the religious sector.

By this time tomorrow, he would have put it from his mind.

Straightening his shoulders, he stepped back from the mirror and went to grab his briefcase.

*****

“Mr. Davenport! How do you feel about the flack your company has been taking? Is this gesture an effort to turn the tide on what is being whispered about Davenport Industries?” The pesky reporter had taken up position at the front of the room, his watery blue eyes holding a glint of malice.

Evan wanted to smash his fist into the man’s face and eject him from the room. Before he could respond, the woman who had introduced herself as Cassandra Daley, responded.

“Mr. Davenport is here himself to present the very generous check to Russell Baptist. We are extremely grateful for the time and effort that he as well as the rest of his management team have put into this and feel very blessed to have been chosen to receive the contribution.

What we are focusing on is how the money will be spent.” She continued by talking about the soup kitchen, the scholarship program and the effort to feed and clothe the homeless in the downtown area.

Evan was grateful for the timely intervention, but he did not appreciate her speaking on his behalf. She was camera ready. The powder blue suit fitted her slender frame perfectly.

Her thick dark brown hair was ruthlessly brushed back from her small face and secured with pins at the nape of her neck. Her smile was engaging, dark brown eyes friendly. He had felt a jolt in his nervous system when he was introduced to him. Pastor William Weeks had introduced her as the church secretary, whatever that meant.

Several more questions were thrown at them and fielded by Kim who had met him at the sanctuary.

Moving away from the podium, he made his way discreetly over to the head of his PR department. “I think my job here is done.”

“They want you to take a tour of the place.”

He had to rein in the anger that sprang up instantly. “That was not the deal.”

Touching the sleeve of his jacket lightly, she whispered in an undertone. “This has to appear as if is something you wanted to do.”

“I am sick and tired of this charade and in case you have forgotten, I have a bloody company to run.”

“You asked me to do the job and that is precisely what I am doing.” She faced him, determined not to be cowed. Evan Davenport was six foot three inches of virile male and was known to be ruthless. His reputation was far better than those of his ancestors, including his dad.

He was known to be fair and honest in his business dealings, but because of the past, he was being tarred with the same brush and it hurt Kim and the rest of the employees, including the management team, to see his noble efforts being overlooked.

Another half hour is not going to make a difference.”

“Fine.” He whispered curtly. Turning away, he dragged his phone out and rescheduled his midmorning meeting.

*****

“What does a secretary do around here? Print bake sale flyers and record the death and birth of the members?” He had been shown the fancy projection room, the well-stocked library, and the different meeting rooms. Pastor William had been called away on an emergency and had left everything in her capable hands.

The reporters were scattered around, taking advantage of the delicious fare that had been provided in one of the conference rooms. He had accepted the cup of strong black coffee presented to him and refused the sweet cakes and tiny sandwiches being wolfed down by the men and women of the press.

Her gentle laugh dragged his head around to look at her and he felt the familiar funny feeling in the pit of his stomach. Her voice was melodious and sultry, making him think of bells softly tinkling as well as light shining to dispel the darkness. A frown touched his forehead as he wondered where on earth all of that came from.

“It’s a little more than that.” Her soft melodious voice had a calming effect on him, and he found himself wondering if it was practiced. They had gone through several rooms and had now stopped in what appeared to be some sort of children’s room.

There were childish drawings on the walls and several chests filled to overflowing with toys. A piano was tucked into one corner. Soft plushy seats were scattered in no particular order, giving the room a bright and colorful look. “This is where I teach my Sunday school classes.”

To his surprise, he realized that they were quite alone in the large room, having shaken the reporters as well as the other members of the church.

“What else do you do around here?”

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