Hard to Resist - By Kara Lennox Page 0,56

picking up single women and having them delivered to his door?”

The driver laughed. “No, ma’am.”

“Okay, thanks.” She probably should have asked a few more questions of the attorney before proceeding with this adventure. But she was into it now, and she might as well enjoy the ride. She watched the neighborhoods change from the stately frame houses of the historic district to the workaday businesses of Davis Street, through the up-and-coming Kidd Springs neighborhood and upscale Kessler Park.

Then finally, they crossed the Trinity River out of Oak Cliff and into downtown Dallas.

The limo had a small refrigerator filled with drinks and snacks. Kat’s stomach was too tied up in knots to try anything. But she could get used to this. She could get used to not worrying about traffic. She could turn on some music, sit back and enjoy a few minutes of calm, as her limo whisked her along.

The limo pulled up in front of Willowplace Tower, a modern, green-mirrored skyscraper, offering some of the priciest office space in the city. One had to have permission to even get past the receptionist to the elevators.

Kat was expected, she soon discovered. A woman from Mr. Breckenridge’s office came down to escort her.

Kat had never seen anything like this. The elevator was the biggest she’d ever ridden in. It even had its own sofa.

The elevator stopped on the ninth floor, and the woman, whose name was Patricia, told her the Breckenridge Foundation occupied the ninth, tenth and fourteenth floors.

“It must be a really big operation,” Kat said inanely.

She’d tried to do some research on Oscar Breckenridge the night before, but the man kept a very low profile. Neither Deb nor Virginia had heard of him, and all Kat could discover was that he ran a foundation that concerned itself with doing good deeds.

The foundation’s reception area had its own waterfall. Not just a fountain, but a built-in rock wall with water gushing and cascading down its surface into a pond.

The pond was full of big orange fish.

The receptionist was a woman who would have looked perfectly at home attending the symphony or giving a garden party. She was of indeterminate age and the epitome of culture and good taste.

“Ms. Holiday,” she said with a smile of genuine warmth. “Mr. Breckenridge is waiting for you.”

“I’ll take her back,” Patricia said.

Kat felt a panic attack coming on, as she was led down a series of carpeted hallways that all said Money. Everything from the antique oil paintings on the walls to the inch-thick wool carpet said this place meant serious business.

What was she doing here, with her discount-store suit and her stubby fingernails? Everyone she saw was so polished.

Patricia tapped gently on a door that was cracked open, and at the hearty, “Come on in!” she opened it wide and gave Kat a little push inside.

“Kat Holiday.” The man behind the desk was smaller than average, with a silver crew cut and big black-framed glasses. He stood to greet her with a wide, reassuring smile, his hand outstretched. “I’ve been looking forward to finally meeting you face-to-face.”

Kat stepped forward on shaky legs. “I’m afraid you have the advantage.”

“Please, sit down. And I’ll tell you who I am. And then I’ll tell you what I want to do for you.”

And he did. As Kat sipped from a glass of cold water that Patricia had brought for her, Oscar Breckenridge told her how he’d grown up with nothing, and how a man from the Big Brothers program had shown him a way out, a way up. He’d made millions in the computer chip industry and then had sought a way to give back, which was how the Breckenridge Foundation had been born.

“I don’t seek publicity for the work I do. I fund a select group of grassroots programs that are doing good things at the community level. When one of my staff brought StrongGirls to my attention, I knew I had to learn more about it. I was impressed at every turn, especially when I found out there are only three of you. Three people, doing everything—the counseling, the administrative work. It’s astounding.”

“Actually, we’re five now,” Kat said proudly. “I had to start small, given my funding is very modest. But the people I recruited to work with me are the best. And if the program reaches a certain level of participation by the end of the summer, the grant money increases.”

“Do you mind if I ask how much?”

So she told him how her grant