Page 45 of Filthy Little Secret

I hope Tim comes tonight.

It’s strange thinking that with Tim, it’s really possible he might arrive. Although, the idea of us being able to do anything is absurd.

14

TIM

Icrave Mark.

Hunger for him in a way I’ve never hungered for another guy.

We just saw each other the other night, but the longer we keep this up, the harder it is when he has obligations that prevent me from being able to fuck him. So I’m pissed that he’s supposed to be at one of his hoity-toity fundraisers tonight, especially since I have deliveries to make tomorrow and the next night. There are several big mixers at the fraternities that my clients want to be fully-stocked for, but I don’t know how I can manage three nights without seeing my hot piece of ass.

I pull up alongside the downtown Marriott.

When he first sent that text about me meeting him here, I could tell he was half-joking, but I was deadly serious. His suggestion got me thinking. I imagined slipping into the fundraiser, weaving my way around the party and cornering Mark in some secluded area. Taking him the way he needs to be taken. I know he’d like the danger of possibly getting caught. So what began as a silly idea became a mission.

I pull a Nikon camera out of my bag. It can’t take any pictures. Just has an impressive flash and a long-ass telephoto lens. I got it off eBay because when I was first working with Roy, he told me the best way to get around events is to look like a photographer. That along with a button-up, tie, slacks, and a confident attitude can get me in just about anywhere.

I head inside and see a woman checking people’s tickets as they enter the ballroom with the signage for the fundraiser.

I glance through the doorway to see if Mark has arrived. Can’t see him.

When I approach the woman taking tickets, she eyes the camera and waves me in, offering a friendly smile.

A woman speaks at a podium on a small stage before a projector that flashes images of kids. Tables are packed with guests. I’m still searching them for Mark but don’t see him, and I don’t see his mother anywhere either.

I notice another photographer taking pictures around a few of the tables. I make like I’m taking my own pictures and start approaching guests for photos. The photographer glances at me as though he’s glad one of his own is here. I offer a friendly smile and wave.

“And now I’d like to introduce,” the woman at the podium says, “someone who needs no introduction. She is the face of this organization. She isn’t just a woman who cares about this issue, but the mother who has walked the walk…the hard path of being a mother of a child suffering from leukemia. She is a beacon of light in dark times, and she’s here to talk to us today about the importance of donating to help with this research. Ladies and gentlemen, if you’ll please offer a warm welcome to Governor Darlene Kenmore.”

Applause.

Darlene, Mark, and Mark’s father step out from behind the screen the video is being projected on.

Mark smirks. Seems like a sort of rehearsed expression he makes at these sorts of events.

In a navy-blue suit, he looks adorable as ever.

His mother wears a white dress with blue stripes that are complimented by Mark’s outfit. It’s obviously designer. He and his father flank either side of Darlene at the podium.

I pretend to take pictures of them.

Darlene’s expression is serious. She looks tired. Defeated.

She pulls the mic stand up.

“Thank you, Kendra, for that beautiful introduction. I’m here with my husband and son today. I brought them with me because I think it’s important for everyone to know and understand that what we’re talking about here today isn’t about a disease. It’s about families. It’s about those of us who are affected by these tragedies…”

She launches into her speech. Mark scans the room, and as I lower the camera, he sees me. He presses his lips together, as though he’s having to restrain himself from saying anything to give us away.

I shrug innocently enough, and he smirks—a smirk that assures me he’s happy I’m here.

His mother’s speech intensifies, her words clearly striking a chord with the audience as she becomes more impassioned. “But when you’re standing over your dying child, wondering if they’re going to make it to the next day, then you’ll know what it’s like to truly be afraid. Don’t let this happen to your child. Or anyone’s child. Stand up today for empowering our future. Stand up today so we can support the scientists who are looking to the future for solutions in times when all we seem to have are problems.”

She raises her fist. She appears determined—powerful. Such a far cry from how she walked out here. And now I realize I was duped. This whole thing has been little more than a performance to gain favor with the audience, who’s now erupting with applause. They rise from their chairs in celebration. Mark doesn’t appear all that pleased or impressed with his mother’s talent for moving the group. He has to be used to that by now.

The host of the event returns and invites everyone to enjoy the refreshments.

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