His smile fades slightly as he leans closer and he asks again, “What can I get you?”
I’m rarely affected by a guy’s looks, but he stops me in my tracks. I give myself a mental shake. “Uh…a lemon drop martini and a white wine.”
“Coming right up.” But he hesitates for several seconds before grabbing a martini glass and starting to make my drink. “I haven’t seen your group in here before.”
“We wrapped up the first night of our play down the block and we’re here to celebrate.”
“So, are you an actress then?” he asks as he pours liquor into a martini shaker.
“Me?” I can’t help but laugh. “No. I was in the play, but I’m no actress. It was more of an honorary part.”
“What do you do, then?”
It sounds like he’s just making polite conversation, but there’s a slight edge to his question that makes me wonder if it’s more than that. Still, I have nothing to hide and networking is part of the game of fundraising. “I work with the Middle Tennessee Children’s Charity.”
“So the play was a fundraiser for their summer program.”
“That’s right.” I’m surprised he knows this.
He shakes the metal container then pours the contents into my glass. “I heard about how you’re adding the middle-school kids. It’s a great idea.” He sets my glass on the counter. “My brother goes to that summer program. He starts middle-school next year, so this would have been his last year otherwise.”
This is my opportunity to get more information. I ignore the fact that I’m grateful for the chance to talk to him longer. “Does he like it?”
He grins and leans his elbow on the counter. “What’s not to like? Romping in the park all day with games, swimming, and field trips—it’s a kid’s summer vacation dreams come true.”
His answer worries me. What if I’m wrong? What kid wants to go school while they’re on summer break? What if I’m putting all this time, energy, and money into a program that won’t even interest the kids?
A seriousness fills his eyes and he rests both elbows on the counter. “Why do you ask?”
I take a deep breath. “If I tell you my plan, will you give me your honest opinion of whether your brother would want to go?”
His shoulders tense, but his green eyes pierce mine. “Yes, of course.”
My stomach tightens. What if he thinks I’m crazy? I shouldn’t give so much credence to one guy’s impression, but his brother is essentially in my target audience. “The middle-school program we’re trying to implement? I want to expand it beyond its original scope.” I pause, but he’s listening intently. “I’m trying to set up something like a summer school program, but not with the core subject classes kids hate. I want to offer classes they’ll want to take. Computer programming. How to build your own video games. How to make updated clothing with thrift store finds. Courses on how to build a babysitting business or a lawn mowing service.”
He watches me without expression.
My chest tightens. “You think it’s a crazy idea.”
He shakes his head. “No. Not at all…” His eyebrows lift. “Can I ask your name?”
My stomach jitters with nerves. “Alexa,” I answer without thinking. Where did that come from?
“Alexa.”
My real name rolls over his tongue, sending a shiver down my spine. I’ve always preferred Lexi to Alexa, but the way he says my name gives me second thoughts.
“Well, Alexa, I think it’s a great idea. Honestly, I’m speechless. I would have killed to be able to take part in something like that. I’m just not sure how many kids in Hillsdale can afford it.”
Relief spreads through my body. “That’s the beauty of the program. Spots will either be available at a very reduced rate or there will be scholarships. If we can get enough funding, the program will be completely free to kids who qualify based on financial need.”
“Do you have any idea how much something like that would cost?”
My back stiffens. “Yes.”
His face softens as he watches me. “I think it’s amazing, Alexa.”
Again, his opinion shouldn’t matter, but his approval means something to me. “Thanks.”
Sylvia sneaks up behind me. “What’s taking so long?”
The bartender pushes away from the counter. “Let me get your wine.” I realize with surprise that he finished making my martini several moments ago.
She breaks into a huge smile and watches him walk away. “Flirting with the bartender? I approve. He’s really cute.”
I shake my head and pick up my glass, taking a gulp. “No. I was telling him about the program.”
A scowl wrinkles her forehead. “Lexi, I said no work talk.”
My mouth parts in protest. “He asked, Sylvia. Besides his brother actually goes to the summer program and would have aged out this year. His opinion is invaluable.”
“Well, no more work. Only fun. In fact, we need to dance.”
The bartender returns with the wine and I hand him money for the drinks.
He pushes it back to me. “You can start a tab.”
“Oh, I won’t be staying—”
Sylvia grabs my arm and pulls me away. “Thank you.”
“Why didn’t you let me pay?” I ask as she continues to drag me to our table.