Mr. Perfect (Sinister in Savannah #2) - Aimee Nicole Walker Page 0,7
at self-deprecation, even the pissed ones, and it encouraged him to charge forward.
He spent the next fifteen minutes challenging the Rotary Club members to push outside their comfort zones. Felix urged them to get to know people that didn’t look like them, worship like them, and love like them. “Stand up for others when you see them being abused or oppressed, especially by those who are supposed to protect them. Complacency is a powerful foe. It might be invisible, but it is not invincible. Compassion. Empathy. Education. Those three things will clobber complacency in every battle. Choose your weapons wisely, folks, and let’s go to war. Thank you for your time.”
Felix was pleased with the warm applause he received as he made his way back to his seat. His eyes locked with Jude’s who clapped along with the members and Rotary officers at the head table. Jude’s heavy-lidded gaze gave Felix all kinds of ideas. He stowed them away until he was alone.
After Felix returned to his seat, the club president leaned toward him and said, “How would you like to become a Rotarian and head up a steering committee to increase the diversity of our group?”
Felix was rendered speechless. He had expected Neal to be angry over his bold assertion that the group was lacking in any way. Once he recovered from his surprise, he had to decide if he had the time to take on the responsibility. The hectic demands of his job at the paper and his podcast commitments left little personal time to do things that made him happy. Who was he kidding? Work and having a purpose brought Felix more joy than having free time to get into an argument with an idiot on social media. This offer was the kind of opportunity he’d been waiting for, and he’d be foolish to pass it up. Not to mention hypocritical. Do as I say and not as I do.
“I’d be honored, sir,” Felix said, extending his hand to Neal. “Can I call you later today to discuss it in further detail? I’d stick around after the meeting, but I have an important commitment.”
“Absolutely,” the older man said jovially before rising and returning to the podium.
Felix hoped Neal wouldn’t take too long to wrap up the meeting, especially since he told him he had another commitment, but Southern gentlemen never seemed to be in a hurry to do anything. Anticipation to corner his prey grew with each passing second until Felix was practically vibrating. He studied the man surreptitiously so he didn’t draw any unwanted attention to himself and tip his hand.
When Neal finally adjourned the meeting, his quarry rose from his seat, nodded to those around him, and began heading toward the exit. Felix had two choices: do the same or wait for another time to approach the man. Persistence was his virtue, not patience. Felix also swiftly rose but turned to face Neal, who was nearing the table.
“I’ll be in touch this afternoon, Neal.”
“Sounds great. Looking forward to it.”
Felix followed his prey, excitement building with every step.
“Felix,” Jude called out behind him. “Can I have a minute?”
Felix nearly stumbled when his name rolled off the devil’s forked tongue. Damn him. He pretended not to hear Jude and increased his pace. This might be his only chance, and he wouldn’t lose it.
Felix cleared the building and sighted his prey once more. Fortune was smiling down at him because someone had stopped the elusive man before he could slip away.
I got you now, Mr. Perfect.
Felix knew better than to interrupt the conversation his target was conducting with the exuberant Rotarian. Instead, he stood beneath a shade tree not too far from where Cameron Spencer, The Auto King, had parked. He settled for observing the exchange—something reporters were exceedingly good at. You could take many cues from a person’s body language or the way they treated others when they didn’t realize anyone was watching.
The two men were a study in contrast. Cameron Spencer was a striking man with thick, perfectly groomed blond hair and a tanned face that made his smile look even whiter. No way on God’s green earth were his teeth naturally that bright or perfect. Had to be porcelain veneers. Spencer was tall, broad-shouldered, and trim, where the man who’d waylaid him was the exact opposite in every aspect. At first glance, Felix saw two friends catching up on old times. Cameron grinned down at the shorter, older man whose lips moved a mile a