Читать книгу A Tempting Proposal - Sherelle Green - Страница 15

Chapter 7

Imani’s hour-long soak in the tub had been much needed. After her bath, she put on her black satin nightgown and caught up on a little reading. Sitting on the balcony of her hotel room with a warm cup of chamomile tea, she listened to smooth R&B music playing in the background.

The night was so warm that it reminded her of a hot, summer night when she and the girls had taken an impromptu trip to Barbados. Ever since the company took off, they hadn’t taken many impromptu vacations. Well, Cyd took trips like that, but they hadn’t taken a trip together in a while. When she got back to Chicago, she’d be sure to mention that to the girls.

They all desperately needed a vacation. She decided she would use any downtime she had in Atlanta to relax and go shopping.

The evening breeze caught hold of her nightgown, causing her to shiver. She had requested to be on a floor with few guests, and a quick glance around the outside perimeter of the hotel seemed to confirm that the hotel had honored that request.

Imani knew she shouldn’t be wearing so little clothing on her balcony, but clothes had always been a bother to her, anyway. She preferred to feel comfortable and free. And she loved looking at the lit city skyscrapers.

Her thoughts drifted to Gamine. She quickly ran into her room and got a feather out of her stash—her personal way of connecting with Gamine. Closing her eyes, she said a silent prayer to Gamine, letting the feather catch in the wind and drift into the night sky.

When Imani opened her eyes, she saw a light turn on in the room next to hers. When the receptionist at the front desk had asked her if she would mind adjoining rooms, she figured it was okay since she was assured no one else was occupying the room. Imani wished she’d made the receptionist guarantee that the room would remain unoccupied throughout her stay because clearly, someone was there now. Since Imani wasn’t decently dressed, she slowly made her way back into her room. She was just about to slide into bed when there was a knock on her door.

Slipping on her robe, she gasped as she looked through the peephole.

“It can’t be,” Imani said aloud.

She rubbed her eyes to see if she was imagining the person on the other side of the door. Only one way to find out...

She exhaled deeply and slowly opened the door.

“Hello, Imani,” Daman said in a deep, husky voice. No one ever said her name like he did.

“Hello, Daman,” Imani stated, her voice full of displeasure. “What are you doing in Atlanta? And more important, how did you know where I was staying or what room I was in?”

“You left that information with Vicky Gordon, the head of the volunteers. She informed me that she set up these arrangements for you and was more than happy to tell me where you were staying. I managed to book myself the connecting room.”

The smoldering look Daman was giving her wasn’t helping to calm the rising heat overtaking her body. Vicky obviously wouldn’t have known that she shouldn’t give out Imani’s room number to her co-gala planner, so she couldn’t be upset.

He was leaning on the outside of her door, smiling at her, knowing that she was annoyed he’d so casually stopped by.

“How long are you staying?” she asked in a dry tone.

“Since it’s the weekend, I’m staying for a few days.”

“Oh.” Imani wasn’t keen on his being in Atlanta at all but figured he knew that much.

“Vicky mentioned that you two had a meeting set up tomorrow morning at the location of the gala, so I took the liberty of inviting myself along. Is that okay with you?”

Imani knew Daman was baiting her to express her annoyance, and she refused to give him the satisfaction. “That’s fine,” she said through clenched teeth.

“Great. I’ll knock on your door at 8:00 tomorrow morning so we can head to the next meeting together. Have a good night.” And with a sly smile, Daman walked back to his room.

Imani slammed her door and went to lie down in the comfortable bed. She disliked anyone telling her what to do and she disliked it even more when she couldn’t get a word in edgewise to protest.

“The nerve of that man!” she yelled out loud.

* * *

The next morning, Imani and Daman walked into the Georgia World Congress Center and were greeted by an older couple and a group of five young men and women.

Vicky Gordon introduced herself to Imani and Daman and then the older woman introduced them to the man beside her. “This is my husband, Pete. Welcome to Atlanta, Ms. Rayne and Mr. Barker.”

Imani and Daman exchanged handshakes with the couple.

“I’m excited to be here, and please call me Imani.”

“And you can call me Daman,” Daman replied after Imani. “I’m happy to be here, as well.”

“That’s great to hear, Imani and Daman,” Vicky responded. “I’m the lead event manager here at the Georgia World Congress Center and my husband manages the facilities department. I will introduce you to a few people who flew in from Black Enterprise later today. As you know, they are hosting the gala and are very interested in discussing plans with you all and the rest of the team.”

Imani had met a lot of entrepreneurs at last year’s annual conference and respected the organization a great deal.

“I would like you both to meet a few of our student volunteers,” Vicky said, motioning toward the younger adults.

Imani noticed that each of the volunteers wore a T-shirt from The University of Georgia.

“Imani, Daman, my name is Jared Booker, and I’m the president of the Black Student Union campus organization at The University of Georgia. This is our vice president, Stephanie Rogers, treasurer, Michael Adams, editor of our monthly magazine, Paul White, and event and marketing director, Joan Griffin. We have many other volunteers from our organization who will be here to help with the gala, as well.”

Imani shook hands with the enthusiastic five, reflecting on her own drive she had in college to make a difference. “It’s very nice to meet you all. It means a lot to have student volunteers willing to dedicate their time.”

Daman seemed equally impressed with the students. “We’re glad your organization has offered to help with the gala. I look forward to working with you all.”

“Now that introductions are out of the way, we can give you two a tour of the center,” Vicky said to the group. “We’ll start with the Thomas Murphy Ballroom, where the gala will take place.”

When Imani had first walked into the Georgia World Congress Center, she’d admired the design, but thought it looked like many other conference centers. As Vicky led them deeper into the center, Imani was blown away by the breathtaking beauty of the ballroom.

The architectural design of the high ceiling was distinctively modern and the theater-style room had geometric carpeting with warm, brilliant tones. Unique sculptural designs were symmetrically stationed throughout the entire room. The overall effect was stunning.

The tour continued throughout the center, each room offering the same gorgeous decor; however, the Georgia Ballroom, where the pre-and-post-cocktail parties were to be held was Imani’s favorite. It was also the room that received Daman’s utmost approval.

“Vicky, this room is exquisite!” Daman exclaimed in complete awe.

Imani watched as he carefully viewed all the minor details of the room’s decor. His strides were slow and precise and the concentration in his eyes was mesmerizing to her. She was so intensely consumed in watching Daman that she failed to notice the observant glance she was receiving from Vicky.

“I’m interested to know the history of this place,” Daman said out loud to no one in particular. “The decor is modern so it must have been remodeled recently.”

Vicky gleamed. “My husband would be able to answer all of your questions,” Vicky said motioning toward the man beside her. “As facilities manager, he knows everything about this place.”