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She put a stop to her train of thought. Lyssa was done mooning over men she worked with. She’d never make that mistake again. Besides, although there was no question that Dane was a great-looking billionaire, there was no spark between them.
No, Cal had taken all her sparks with him when he’d left.
Rising from her desk to greet Dane, she held out her hand. “It’s so good to see you again. I hope everything went well with your resort opening.”
“We had our fair share of glitches, but it all worked out in the end.” He grinned. “And I was very happy to hear in my recent chat with Cal that things are going well on your end too.”
“They really are,” she said with a smile, although it felt a tad stiff. Almost as though her lips weren’t used to curving up anymore. “Cal’s doing a great job of wining and dining new donors on the East Coast. Most of them are from your list, thank you very much.”
Dane looked pleased that his contacts were stepping up to the donation plate. “Has he told you that I’ve lined up a few additional prospects, particularly a man in the Caribbean named Westerbourne?”
“Yes, Cal told me you two would be heading to his private island after Thanksgiving. We can’t thank you enough for all your help with the foundation.”
“It’s my pleasure,” he said, waving away her thanks. “Although I’m confused about why he’s doing all the donor recruiting by himself when you did a fantastic job talking me into donating. Seems to me you should be out meeting with everyone too.” His gaze sharpened. “Is something not right between you and Cal?”
“Me and Cal?” Her voice was too high. “Of course not.” Now she sounded strident, darn it. “He handles donors. I handle the accounting. We have complementary strengths.”
“Sorry,” Dane said with a shake of his head. “I must have gotten the wrong impression. I know it’s none of my business, but I assumed you were a couple.”
Really? He thought she and Cal looked like they were together?
She was astounded Dane would even think that, especially since she and Cal hadn’t gotten together until the day after they’d met with him. Although, if she was being completely honest, there’d already been a few sparks.
Warmth moved through her at the thought of being in a real relationship with Cal—rather than on the weird back end of a one-night stand—before she ruthlessly tamped it down. Giving Dane as carefree a smile as she could manage, she forced herself to brush off his words. “We’re just really comfortable with each other. He works with my brothers, and I’ve known him a long time.” She shrugged. “It’s years of family barbecues and weddings and holidays. He’s almost like another brother to me.”
Ugh. She was overexplaining, practically about to declare that there was no way, no how, not a single teeny-tiny chance that she and Cal had ever looked at each other as anything more than business associates and friends.
She quickly changed the subject.
“I’ve been reviewing the IRS requirements for maintaining nonprofit status. One of the main things we need is public funding.” Then she threw the ball into his court. “I was thinking we should hold some fundraisers, if you think that’s a good idea.”
“As a matter of fact, I’ve hosted many fundraisers at my resorts. We could put together a hell of a charity gala. I can donate the use of the resort facilities at no charge to the foundation.”
“Wow, that’s great! If you have a few minutes, maybe we could start to put together an action list for me to get going on.”
Dane pulled out the chair opposite her desk. They talked for an hour about all the possibilities. He finally stood and was heading for the door when he turned back. “For what it’s worth, I still think you should come to the Caribbean with us to speak with Westerbourne. Think about it, would you?”
* * *
Cal hadn’t seen Lyssa in three weeks. Three long, arduous, frustrating weeks.
God help him, he’d wanted to call her up late at night, every single night, just to talk to her while she lay in bed. To hear her voice. And to know if she missed him as much as he missed her.
Of course, right while he was thinking about her—who was he kidding, he was always thinking about her—Cal got a call from the Mavericks. All of them. On speakerphone.
“Hey, Cal.” It was Will. “What are you doing on Saturday?”
“Why do you ask?” He felt as though a neon sign over his head flashed Guilty, Guilty, Guilty.
“We’re down to the wire on Mom and Dad’s house, and we need your help.” That was Evan.
“So strap on your tool belt,” added Daniel.
“Saturday, eight a.m. sharp,” Sebastian said.
“We’re not taking no for an answer,” Matt put in.
