Page 62 of Peak of Love
The fundraising gala was held at the Monroe Hall, a modern building with floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out to a courtyard of fountains. Over a hundred people mingled around candlelit cocktail tables and by the cash bar. A slightly raised podium was against the back wall. Behind it was a projector that threatened to accompany what was sure to be boring speeches and tedious presentations.
Sebastian pasted on a smile while the press took pictures of him shaking hands. He fielded a short interview with a local station. He tried to keep the talking points towards the community center fundraiser instead of insights on midseason Thrashers hockey team gossip. He thought he handled it pretty well.
Wholesome and friendly Sebastian was officially the face of the campaign. Mr. Watson made sure to put Sebastian in front of anyone with a mic or a camera.
He hobnobbed with Cincinnati elites, politicians, and executives for what felt like forever, but was probably forty-five minutes. Edgar Collinwood, the Thrashers’ general manager who had his hand in a little bit of everything around the city, introduced Sebastian to a middle-aged couple. They were both plastic surgeons and seemed obsessed with aching body parts. Are injuries the only thing old people talked about?
“If my son woke up with my fifty-year-old body,” the guy was saying, “I bet he would just lie there and scream.”
They all laughed, even the wife who shook her head as evidence that she heard this joke many times before. If he had to listen to another injury story, he was going to scream, so Sebastian politely excused himself. It was time for a tall glass of beer and maybe a shot of espresso. He was so bored.
Then, from the corner of his eye, he was drawn to something bright amid black dresses and dark suits.
She stood out. Even from across the room, the vision of Jaya stilled his body and then sputtered it into overdrive. She looked fucking magnificent. Upon entrance, she was immediately greeted by a woman who hugged her and made a motion for Jaya to spin around. Jaya’s back stiffened slightly before she complied. Gave a little spin while the woman seemed to fawn over her clothes. Mr. Watson brought her over to a group of people who also gawked at her in admiration. She held herself proud and formal, like a queen indulging the minions.
As if she felt the weight of his stare, their eyes met. He lifted the beer glass to cheer her. She gave the slightest, nearly imperceptible, shrug. She didn’t have a drink. No one had even offered her a drink. She was expected to perform her role as the community center representative immediately and without the same accommodation given to donors.
She was in conversation with an older man when her gaze darted up again to catch his stare. Sebastian held up his glass of beer and pointed at it. Somehow, Jaya flicked her head enough to indicate a “no.” Sebastian turned around and bought a glass of red wine and as soon as it was poured, he turned around to continue their long-distance charades. She bit her lower lip apologetically, which he interpreted as lukewarm interest in the red wine. He turned around again to ask for a glass of Chardonnay.
She had moved on to another couple. He caught her attention when he raised the glass of white wine. A slight lilt of her lips, a subtle nod, and he began to walk over.
As he approached, she disentangled herself from the huddle and met him halfway. Closer, Sebastian better appreciated her elegant features and tasteful make-up. Jaya’s dark eyes were sultry and full lips glistened in a muted pink shade. She licked her lips, staring at the glass of wine like it was manna from heaven.
She was wearing a pale, rose-colored sari that draped her body in all the right places. An intricate pattern, in complementary shades of pink, was woven into the fabric that draped over one shoulder. The sari was long and fitted, following her curves and exposing a shapely brown shoulder that looked even softer than the silk she wore.
“Hi, Sebastian,” she said formally, though she looked at him with interest. Did her eyes graze over his chest? Interesting.
She accepted the glass he offered and had a rather inelegant first gulp before she mouthed “thank you.” She sighed then took a smaller sip.
“Jaya. You look great,” he said flirtatiously.
She seemed about to roll her eyes. Instead, she bit her lower lip as if to stop herself from the impulse.
Jaya took a deep breath and launched her speech. “I didn’t have a chance to say thank you when you came to the community center. Coming out and meeting the kids was…it was nice. Really great. They enjoyed it and I hope you, um, you got something out of it too. So, yeah, thanks. And have fun tonight,” she declared, ready to dismiss his company. She gave a quick nod and was about to leave. He reached out to gently touch her elbow, which was smooth and soft.
“What’s the rush?” he asked. Her hesitation made him grin. “I meant to thank you too, you know,” he continued.
She raised an impudent brow and tilted her head slightly. “Alright. I’m listening.”
Unperturbed by her haughtiness, he closed the distance and realized he had not let go of her elbow. He moved his fingers to skim slightly and watched her eyes darken under heavily lashed lids. She didn’t move away. So soft. Her skin was so soft.
“They’re great kids, and I know that’s not easy to pull off at that age. Thanks for making this,” he gave a vague lift of his chin in a gesture of acknowledging the pomp around them, “all of this mean something. Thanks for helping me see the big picture.”
He didn’t do it consciously, yet with each sentence, his voice was a little bit deeper, a little bit huskier. And because of the noise around them, he had to lean in and put his mouth by her ear. Jaya’s thick hair was loosely pinned up, allowing black, wavy strands to escape. One of those strands tickled his nose and he almost moaned at how fruity and clean and womanly it smelled. Without thinking, he stretched his hand to fully cup her elbow and gave the slightest of tugs. Her skin was so fucking soft.
She snapped out of her momentary stillness in response to the tug. Jaya cleared her throat, stepped back, and gave a stiff smile. “Yeah, well, OK. You’re welcome.”
She turned around quickly and might have gotten tangled in her own legs because she momentarily lost balance. She caught herself and put her arms out before Sebastian could reach over to help. Then, shoulders squared, she walked away towards the podium where Mr. Watson was waiting.
He worked very hard not to stare at her ass, which no doubt looked fantastic in her silky sari.
The yada, yada part of the ceremony began, with Mr. Watson thanking corporate sponsors. The assistant to the mayor or some other administrative bureaucrat went on stage to officiate the proceedings.
Sebastian was asked to say a few words, which he kept short and candid. “I’m proud to be part of this campaign,” he said. “I met those kids, and it should be everyone’s privilege to help them reach their potential. Let’s all do our part and make sure the youth in our community have a safe and fulfilling place to thrive. You can start by getting drunk tonight since proceeds of the cash bar go towards the fund. Don’t drink and drive, though. Enjoy!”
People laughed and clapped like he expected them to. After his talk, he did as he preached and walked to the bar. He watched the rest of the ceremony from that vantage point, leaning his back against the high counter. The whole time, Jaya was on the stage as one of a lineup of speakers sitting and waiting their turn.
An older man beside her patted her thigh and leaned in to say something. Jaya’s forehead creased with annoyance and then she rearranged her face into an accommodating smile.
