Deadly Little Secrets Page 0,76
how many times she’d been turned down for an interview, or just how often its founder and major backer, Drake Yountz, had been unavailable. The man was a shipping magnate, but Bootstrap seemed to be his big charity cause.
He looked over, a quizzical smile hovering around his mouth. “There’s a joint fundraiser for them tonight, shared with San Francisco TeenCare, the organization that works to get teens off the street, get them involved in the community,” he told her. “Silent auction at the Opera House down on Van Ness.”
“Busy, busy, busy, aren’t they?” she said, wondering how she could get an invitation to the event without having to cough up from the departmental budget.
“Would you like to go? Dav will be going, since he’s a very involved sponsor for San Fran TeenCare and a number of people with whom he deals are large donors to both organizations. He’s not very fond of Drake Yountz, but he does admire the concept he’s developed in Bootstrap.”
“Dav’s a sponsor? That’s wonderful.” She wondered how a man like Dav had time to see to those details. “It’s a great organization.”
“Very close to Dav’s heart, since he claims to have been a hoodlum with no place to hang out. He thinks his early life would have been more pleasant if he’d had a TeenCare type of club to go to.” Gates’s look was grim. “The darker side of Athens is a tough place to be running loose when you’re a teenager.”
“I’d guess. I need to get to Drake Yountz. He won’t return my calls. As to the gala, I’d have to clear going to the event with Pretzky,” she began, but he cut her off.
“Why? I’d like you to come as my date.” He smiled. “Nothing to check. I hadn’t planned to go to this one. Dav had already arranged to escort Sophia Kontos to the event, so I would have been at loose ends anyway. If I go, I wouldn’t be working, per se. Either way, we anticipate no trouble.”
“You don’t?” Ana thought it would be a prime location to go for a hit, then stuttered over the thought of the glamorous Sophia Kontos as Dav’s date. She was one of the hottest actresses in Hollywood, blasting onto the American scene after starring in a blockbuster thriller with the legendary Carl Appleton.
“The governor will be there too.” Gates grinned, dropping his voice to a guttural imitation of the former actor turned politician. “He’ll be back.”
“Ha, well, I see what you mean. There’ll be security out the wazoo for that.” She nodded, running probabilities in her mind. The probability that Pretzky would balk, the probability that she had anything to wear that was suitable. The probability that she could get something before the event tonight.
He took her hand, gave it a squeeze. “Say you’ll come.”
How could she refuse when he asked her like that, all intent and focused on her alone? “Okay,” she whispered, hardly aware that she’d answered him as she lost herself in looking at him. He leaned forward and kissed her lightly on the mouth.
“Good. And now…” he said as the car slowed and turned into the driveway of her building, stopping at the guard gate to check in. They were waved through and cruised to the door before he finished. “I’ll let you off, but not without this.” He pulled her into his arms for a searing kiss that rocked her to her toes.
They broke apart, breathing like they’d run a race.
“I’m supposed to work after that?” she groused, knowing it would be hard to focus on anything after his sensual assault.
“Hmmm, have a nice day dear,” he said with bland humor. “I’ll think about you,” he admitted, his eyes still dark with desire.
“I’ll call you about tonight.”
He nodded and tapped the glass. The driver strode round to her side and opened the door.
“Tonight, then,” he said, running a finger down her cheek as a last farewell.
With that delicious parting, she got out of the car.
Chaos once again prevailed as she walked through the door, but at least this time it was controlled madness of an office working on problem solving. Everyone was still sifting files, pulling notes, and trading information to see if they could pinpoint the target of the computer hack. She got some absent hellos and a couple of questions on how her car was, but other than that, they kept working.
“Get shot at,” she marveled again, “and you’re just one of the guys.”
“Burton, my office,” Pretzky called,