Page 68 of Second Time Around
She’d finished cutting up the melon when her phone pinged again.The only time I discussed it with him was at the party with you. He asked for the Carver Center’s number himself.
Pinkie swear?
He texted back a graphic of the Boy Scout salute of three fingers held upright.
She chuckled.Were you really a Boy Scout? Doesn’t seem the prepster thing to do.
Eagle Scout, thank you very much.
Beefing up your college application then.
That implies it needed beefing up. I’m offended.
Kyra thought for a moment.Better to be slapped with the truth than kissed with a lie. —Old Russian proverb. Gotta go back to work. Some of us don’t have minions.
Veritas lux mea.
Truth is my light.She snorted and shoved her phone back in her jeans pocket. Just because it was in Latin didn’t make it smarter.
The guests were still lingering as Kyra consolidated the remnants of the hors d’oeuvres onto a couple of half-empty platters. Max strolled up, his brown-and-white rescue dog, Rocco, trotting along beside him. Emily had presented Max with the puppy last Christmas, and the two were now inseparable. Rumor had it that Max even took Rocco to work when he wasn’t experimenting with hazardous chemicals. The contrast between the tall man in an elegant custom-tailored suit and the little street dog with the lopsided ears was utterly endearing. No wonder Emily had fallen so hard for her billionaire chemist.
“I wanted to thank you for the impressive spread of food,” he said. “The crab bites were small miracles of deliciousness. I admit to eating more than my fair share.”
“You were the guest of honor, so we’ll forgive you,” Kyra said, glowing at the compliment. “Without your gift of the magic ingredient, no miracles would have been possible. Even more important, thank you for joining the board of trustees. It means a lot to all of us.”
“I didn’t join it just because Emily is the director,” Max said. “I believe in what the Carver Center does for the kids ... and the dogs. I hope to support more programs like this one, so seeing it in action firsthand will broaden my knowledge.”
“Mr.Max!” Felicia dashed up, followed at a more dignified pace by Shaq, who was wearing a black bow tie for the occasion. “Did you ask her yet?”
“I was getting to it.” Max smiled down at the child before lifting his gaze back to Kyra. “Rocco’s been having some stomach troubles so I was wondering if you could give me some guidance.”
“Ms.Kyra made Shaq so much better.” Felicia stooped to hug the dog. “Pretty soon he’s going to be able to come home with me for a slumber party. I can’t wait.”
The dog licked the girl’s face, making Kyra laugh and reach down to stroke the animal’s big, solid head. His eyelids drooped in an expression of canine ecstasy. “Shaq’s looking very handsome this evening,” Kyra said.
Felicia beamed. “My mama made the bow tie so he’d be stylin’.”
Kyra turned to Max. “I’ll give you some of Shaq’s special blend to take home.” She explained about slowly increasing the proportion of new food to old.
Max bent down to pick up Rocco, tucking him under his arm as he stroked his short, wiry coat. “Now you’ve got a personal chef on top of everything else,” he said to the dog. “You are spoiled rotten.”
Felicia straightened up. “Ms.Emily says our dogs deserve to be spoiled because they give us their love and that’s the best gift of all.”
“Ms.Emily is a very wise woman,” Max said solemnly.
“You got to say that ’cause she’s wearing your ring,” Felicia said.
“Out of the mouths of babes ...,” Kyra murmured.
Max smiled. “You’ve got it backward. I put a ring on her finger because she’s so wise.”
Felicia cocked an eyebrow at him. “She ain’t here listening, you know.”
“Felicia, I was looking all over for you.” A slender woman dressed in a bright red suit and heels walked up to them.
“Sorry, Mama,” the girl said. “Mama, this here’s Ms.Kyra, the chef, and Mr.Max, the trustee.”
“I’m Davina Gibson. Good to meet you.” She nodded to Kyra, making her elaborate braids swing gracefully.
