She wished she could relax like this more often. It seemed that she ran from one appointment to another constantly. And she didn’t even have a job in the normal sense. She supposed she could be considered a consultant for her father’s property management firm since she acted as his hostess, organizing all his social events. When she wasn’t organizing parties for her father, she was organizing fund raisers for the Washington, D.C. orphanages she’d “adopted” three years ago.
She walked the short distance from the tennis courts to the clubhouse, entering through the bottom door that would take her directly to the locker rooms. The air conditioning sent a chill through her perspiration soaked body, but it served the purpose of rushing her through to the locker room so she could shower and change. There was a lot to be done and not much time to do it, she reminded herself. The kids were counting on her and she refused to let them down.
Seven year old David’s comment to her the first time she met him always rung in her ears whenever she felt like slowing down. He’d been eating ice cream with her, his big brown eyes staring up at her as she asked about his home. He’d been almost belligerent when he’d explained that he didn’t have a home, nor did he need one. “Too many people just brush us off. We don’t need them anymore than they need us,” he’d said , then the tough little boy had looked down at his bowl of ice cream, refusing to let the tears fall down his cheeks despite the fact that they were brimming on the edge of his eye lids.
Alana smiled softly at the memory of David running into her on his skateboard one afternoon three years ago. She had been coming out of her lawyer’s office after signing her formal divorce decree. That afternoon, she’d been feeling like a failure for only being married four months, all of which had been awful and humiliating.
There had been five kids skateboarding recklessly down the street that day, but David was the only one the doorman had caught. The older boys had all escaped. The doorman was about to call the police as he held David by the collar of his shirt. Alana had convinced him that it wasn’t necessary. No one had gotten hurt and the boys hadn’t been malicious in their intent. But she required David to come with her for lunch. David, she found out over the next hour, was seven years old, skipped school on a regular basis just as he was doing that day, and lived in a run down orphanage five blocks away. He was an easy companion and talked almost non-stop once Alana offered him an ice cream sundae. They ate ice cream and he told her about his difficult life and Alana realized that she had been wallowing in self pity for so long, she hadn’t been able to see how pathetic her life had become.
Alana had gone to visit the orphanage that afternoon and realized what a horrific place it was. The building was falling apart, there was almost no supervision, the playground was a set of swings, one of which was broken and the chains on all were rusting away. The basket ball court was filled with boys shooting hoops but there were no nets anywhere. And a line of girls sat on the sidelines, primping and calling out to the boys in obvious attempts to get attention from them.
Over the past three years, Alana had found donors for several projects benefiting the orphanage. It now boasted a bright, cheerful playground, newly asphalted basketball courts with nets on each of the hoops, a computer room, a small library, a van to take the kids on field trips and a support staff that helped the kids with all types of problems. She’d also organized a volunteer campaign from various companies that mentored the kids, helped them with their homework, coached girls and boys sports activities and several other projects.
As she showered, she went over her afternoon appointments. She needed to meet with the caterer for her father’s cocktail party this Friday night. She knew she needed something different to serve the guests but was at a loss as to what that could be. Alana was hoping the caterer would have some ideas.
Quickly dressing in light blue, silk slacks and a white, silk shirt, she rushed out of the locker room intending to head to her car. At the last moment, she changed directions. She headed upstairs to the bar to get a bottle of water, needing something to quickly quench her thirst. She’d just gotten a bottle of water and had wandered out onto the patio to drink when a movement to her right caught her eye. The bottle froze halfway to her mouth and her eyes simply stared at the most amazing specimen of manhood she had ever laid eyes upon.
All thoughts left her mind. Forgotten was her busy afternoon agenda, her thirst and her exhaustion. The whole world seemed to disappear when the man stood up again. He had the broadest shoulders she’d ever seen, was at least half a head taller than the other three men waiting for him and was muscular in all the right places, and all the places in between, she thought as he turned to laugh at someone’s joke.
Her breath froze in her throat as she watched the muscles in his shoulders and back bunch up as he prepared his first shot. She observed in fascination as he pulled back, hesitated for only a moment, then let the club rip through the air to hit the ball with a mighty whack. His follow through was perfect and she got to see the play of muscles again as the club swung over the opposite shoulder.
She knew she should be watching where the ball was heading, but her eyes were glued to the man and his incredible body. No other man had ever affected her in such a way and she was helpless in her fascination.
The three other men shook their heads and patted him on his back, obviously congratulating him on his shot. The four of them headed over to the two golf carts, then sped off down the fairway.
Alana finally took a breath when she couldn’t see him anymore, then glanced around her to see if anyone had noticed her staring at the man. Thankfully the patio was empty at this time of the day. She pulled her bottle of water to her mouth and drank thirstily, replenishing the liquids she’d lost in her tennis practice, and because her mouth had been hanging open for that small period of time.
Alana grimaced and turned her back on the now empty golf course. Heading back to her car, she mentally reviewed her schedule. Glancing at her watch, she realized she’d spent at least ten minutes watching the mystery man, she picked up her step.
Chapter 2
Walking into the beautifully decorated executive offices of ATI Incorporated several days later was a daunting experience for Alana. As much as she believed in her cause, she really hated the fundraising part of the job. She wished she didn’t have to go begging for money to fund the orphanages and the programs they needed in order to help the kids. She didn’t understand why everyone didn’t understand what a worthy cause these children were and donate their money without her having to ask for it.