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"But, you don't even know me." He was making this too easy, and a wave of apprehension washed over me.
"I learned enough about you a few days ago. You have high standards, and you care enough about people to respect their feelings even when they're idiots. How much more do I need to know you to write you a check for something you obviously believe in?"
"Because most people don't hand over money without knowing what they're buying."
"Buying indicates I get something in return. Are you offering me something?" His eyebrow quirked, and his eyes glittered, making me feel off kilter.
"Din...dinner."
"Sold."
"Um, okay, then." Maybe he wasn't a prick after all. "We'd also appreciate if you'd consider a donation beyond the dinner, such as donating something for the silent auction. Or equally important, you could become a mentor at the center. You're very successful for someone your age, so I'm sure you'd be an excellent role model for one of the young men or women enrolled in the program. Your drive, your ambition, your success…any kid would look up to you. I mean, if you knew the background of some of these kids your heart would break..."
"You're assuming I have a heart," he interrupted. "I told you I'm not a prince, and I'm not a role model for whoever these kids are. But I'll ask the head of my finances to forward a check for five thousand dollars. Will that be acceptable?"
I wasn't sure why I felt so deflated despite his very generous offer. "Oh. Well, that would be wonderful, of course. It's very generous." I stood and extended my hand across his desk. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Carter. It was nice to see you again."
"It's Jax." When I started to pull away, he held tight. "Tell me the truth, Grace. Did you know who I was at the wedding? Was the charm all part of a strategy to loosen me from my money?"
It felt like his voice vibrated straight to my hand, distracting me from his implication. Then it hit me with full force.
"I beg your pardon?" I jerked my arm away. Yet another person who sought to judge me without even knowing me. Of course, he didn't know my behavior with him at the wedding wasn't like me. But this, thinking I'd tried to flirt my way into his pockets, was beyond the pale.
"Oh, I'd love to hear you begging, Grace. But a girl like you wouldn't know anything about that though, would you?"
His statement was like waving a red flag in front of a bull. My Jax-buzz quickly died.
I lurched to my feet. "Which is it, Mr. Carter?" I challenged, emphasizing the use of his formal name. "Am I the innocent girl who doesn't understand your sexual provocation, or am I the whore who tried to seduce you into a generous donation? You can't have me both ways. At least now I have my question answered about you."
His eyebrows arched. "What answer is that?"
"You're a jackass."
Rather than the astonished reaction I was going for, he seemed amused. "'Jackass,' Ms. Hart? I'm surprised you'd use such a word."
Gah, this man drove me nuts! "Why, because my dad's a pastor? You think that somehow makes me a saint or less human?"
"Maybe. It definitely makes you out of bounds and off limits."
I bored my gaze into his. "Ahh. We come to the crux of the matter. You're afraid of my daddy, aren't you? Afraid he'll call upon the Almighty to strike you with lightning?"
Now he seemed insulted. He stood and moved to stand in front of me. "Are you calling me a coward?"
"You tell me." I poked my finger in his chest. There was no yield in the flesh under the shirt. "You're the one who walked away as soon you saw who my dad is." I shrugged. "Maybe this is just a show, all sound and fury. Maybe all those rumors about big pockets making up for a small, well, you know, are true."
Liar! There's nothing small about this man, and you know it!
"You mean the size of my cock?" He grinned as he took in my pink cheeks. "I assure you, there is nothing small about mine. I'd love to show you sometime."
"I'm not here to discuss the size of your... attributes, except how big of a contribution you're willing to make, Mr. Carter."
"Attributes?" He laughed. "You can't say it, can you? I was right about you after all, wasn't I?"
"You don't know anything about me, Mr. Carter. Of course, I can say it. I don't find this to be an appropriate conversation, that's all." Could I sound more prudish? Talk about living up to his preconceived notion!
"Say it, Grace. Say 'cock,' and I'll write you an even bigger check for your charity."
Oh, he's so smug! I pretended to think about his words. "How much?"
