Page 25 of Passion’s Song

“Are you ready to mingle?” she asked.

Damien nodded. “Let’s do this.”

He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but he sure as hell hadn’t anticipated that April would have just about everyone eating out the palm of her hand within the first twenty minutes. Yet he shouldn’t be surprised. She’d spent over a decade hobnobbing with dignitaries, celebrities and wealthy symphony buffs. She knew how to charm this type of crowd.

The two of them entered a gallery that, according to the platinum plate just outside the door, displayed modern mixed-media art. Damien had never been one for staring at a piece of artwork and dissecting its meaning. If something looked like bits of construction paper glued together by a four-year-old, then that’s what he was going to call it. However, in her life of world travels and mingling with the rich and cultured, April had apparently learned how to tell the junk from the...well...as far as he was concerned, bigger junk.

Several fellow gallery-goers gathered around them to discuss the quality of the various works, expounding on the richness and passion. Damien simply nodded and smiled while April worked her magic. She was brilliant.

They dipped in and out of several galleries. Just as he’d anticipated, a number of people brought up the magazine article. Several of the women gave April long, curious looks, but none remarked on the fact that one of the city’s top bachelors had a date on his arm.

He and April visited five galleries before Damien finally spotted Michael Berger, one of the managing partners of the McGowan Group.

“That’s him,” Damien said. He tipped the champagne flute he’d grabbed from a passing waiter a few minutes ago toward the tall gentleman with salt-and-pepper hair. “That’s the one I’m here to see.”

“The one wearing the tie with Van Gogh’s Starry Night on it?” April asked.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Damien said.

With an exasperated sigh, she said, “The tall one standing next to the redhead?”

“Yes,” he answered. “I’ve met him a couple of times, but it’s been a few months.”

“Okay,” April said. “Let’s go.”

They started for Berger, but they were stopped just a few feet away from him by a reporter with a cameraman. Damien recognized the local news station’s logo on the side of the camera.

She stuck her hand out. “Hi, I’m Rebecca James from Channel 9. How lucky to run into you here, Mr. Alexander. I hope you don’t mind the ambush, but I’d love to get some live comments from you.”

“Actually, I—”

The reporter turned and nodded at the cameraman, and suddenly the camera’s shining light blinded Damien.

“Here we are at Art for Autism,” the tall brunette with the Colgate smile said into the camera. “And it should come as no surprise to see local entrepreneur Damien Alexander here. We all know that this worthy cause is worth patronizing, but I think what’s on the minds of most in the Crescent City is what it feels like to be named one of the city’s top eligible bachelors. So, Damien?”

* * *

At first, April was unsure of what to do. Damien’s deer-in-the-headlights expression was so foreign to anything she’d ever witnessed from him that it completely caught her off guard. But she quickly recovered. She recognized the tension that had slowly begun to rise in him by the way the smooth skin stretching over his defined cheekbones grew taut.

Pasting on an overly bright smile, April stepped in between Damien and the reporter.

“Actually,” she started, “I think Mr. Alexander would rather discuss why it meant so much for both of us to attend this wonderful event on behalf of children with autism.”

“Oh, of course,” the reporter said. “But we all know that the viewers out there would love a word from him about being named one of the city’s best catches.”

“He finds it flattering,” April answered for him. “Now, about Art for Autism.”

Taking the reporter by the hand, she led her to the other side of the gallery, pulling out all the trite responses that reporters expect at an event such as this one. April looked back at Damien and gave him a subtle nod toward Michael Berger.

As she continued with the rambling reporter, she watched him approach the multimillionaire who’d made such an impact on the city since his arrival several years ago. April itched to be involved in the conversation. She wasn’t sure why it had just occurred to her that she and Damien could pull double duty on this quest he had to woo the city’s elite. She didn’t want to step on his toes by taking anything away from his search to find investors, but there were some über-rich people floating through the various galleries tonight; surely they could afford to send some of that wealth A Fresh Start’s way.

April was able to shake the reporter after telling her that Damien was taking the bachelor thing all in good fun. She quickly returned to his side...just as Berger was leaving.

“Thank you for that,” Damien told her. “It wasn’t the type of interference I thought you’d have to run, but you did a bang-up job all the same.”

“That’s my part of the deal, isn’t it?” April said. “Now, how did it go with Berger?”

He hunched his shoulders. “Okay, I guess. I didn’t hit him with the hard sale or anything. I just told him that I’d love to work with the McGowan Group on a project someday. Stroked his ego a bit, told him how impressed I am with all the ventures they’ve started here in New Orleans. I think it went well.”