Page 16 of Passion’s Song

“I think there’s something more important that we need to discuss first,” Rajesh Singh, his senior financial analyst, said.

Damien’s brow furrowed. There wasn’t a single thing more important than Alexander Quarters. And why in the hell was the normally stoic Rajesh looking at him with that stupid grin on his face?

“We didn’t realize we had one of New Orleans’s top ten eligible bachelors in our midst,” Rajesh said. “This needs to be discussed.”

A round of applause broke out across the conference room, followed by a standing ovation.

“Oh, great,” Damien muttered.

Clarissa entered the room with the requested coffee, along with a blueberry muffin sporting a handmade Top Bachelor sign stuck to the edge of a toothpick. Not requested.

“I wanted to put the little naked man we used on the cupcakes at my sister’s bachelorette party, but someone told me that would be inappropriate for the workplace,” Clarissa said, staring pointedly at Rajesh.

“I’m happy you listened,” Damien said.

He decided to be a good sport about their good-natured ribbing, but after a few minutes—and some choice words from Clarissa for Damien lying about the reason the photographer was there weeks ago when he came to do the photo shoot for the article—Clarissa returned to her desk in reception and everyone got down to business.

“Our main focus remains the McGowan Group, but you all have been working with me long enough to know that I need a plan B, C and D.”

“No need to stop at D,” Rajesh said. “Feel free to go through the entire alphabet.”

Damien chuckled. “I promise not to go overboard this time. I feel confident about the McGowan Group, but it wouldn’t hurt to have others on our radar in case things fall through.” He turned to Sheryl Bardell, who’d followed him from the national real estate company where he’d first started out. “How are we doing when it comes to identifying the best events to attend where I can rub elbows with some of the city’s top investors?” Damien asked.

“The stretch between the end of Mardi Gras and the beginning of football season is probably the best time to do this, so that’s one notch in the plus column,” Sheryl said. “They’ve recouped their money from carnival season, and the LSU and Tulane football boosters haven’t been hit with requests from the schools yet.”

Sheryl pressed a button on the remote she held and a bulleted list appeared on the projector screen on the far wall.

“We’ve identified a number of events around the city that should get you significant face time with potential investors. I think what we need to concentrate on is your pitch and, well, your appearance.”

Damien’s brows peaked again. “Excuse me?”

“I’m not talking about your appearance, per se, but rather how it would look to investors to have you showing up alone to all of these events. I know it sounds old-fashioned, but having a significant other on your arm conveys a sense of stability and loyalty. Both qualities investors look for.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Damien said. “I’ve got it covered.”

Silence encompassed the room.

“Since when?” Sheryl asked.

“Since yesterday,” he answered.

“You found a girlfriend yesterday?” Rajesh asked.

“So you’re no longer a bachelor?” This from Clarissa, who was listening through the speakerphone from her desk, which she did during meetings since the rest of them sucked at keeping minutes.

Damien picked up the coffee cup Clarissa had given him before going back to her desk and wrapped his hands around it. He put it back on the table without taking a sip.

“I approached a friend who happens to be a girl and asked her if she would accompany me to a few events,” he said. “It’s no big deal.”

“You’re so cute when you’re trying to be humble,” came Clarissa’s voice through the phone speaker.

“Can we please get back to work and stop worrying about my dating life?” Damien asked.

The team spent the next twenty minutes discussing various deals coming down the pike, from those that were just in their infancy stages to potential buildings they all had their eyes on. Once the meeting ended, Damien went to his office and started sifting through his emails. He’d been so busy today that he hadn’t had a chance to keep up with them on his phone.

“Damien, Leroy Fairchild just called to cancel Monday’s meeting,” Clarissa said through his phone’s speaker. “Do you want me to reschedule?”

“Not yet,” he said. “I didn’t want to meet with him anyway. Tell him we’ll connect later in the summer.”