Risking the Shot (Stick Side #4) - Amy Aislin Page 0,24
up on a few things.”
“Speaking of work, why don’t you tell me more about this direct mail appeal I supposedly agreed to help with. Also, what’s direct mail?”
Dakota laughed softly, infectious and sweet. “In the non-profit world, direct mail is a request for a donation. It’s a story-based letter with a couple of asks buried in the copy. I’m sure you’ve seen them from hospital foundations and social justice charities. ‘This is Jordan, he’s five and for only fifty cents a day you can make sure he has clean water to drink.’”
Tay nodded. “Okay. So in the Foundation’s case, it’d be something like, donate today and help us renovate this athletic facility so kids of all ages can have access to sports.”
“Exactly.” Dakota pointed his fork at him.
“Who does the letter get mailed to?”
“Our donors and volunteers.”
“Okay. How can I help, though?” Tay finished off his cookie and set the empty plate back on the tray. “I don’t know how to write that kind of thing.”
“Sorry, I should’ve been clearer.” Dakota moved his own empty plate to the tray, then cupped his hands around his mug. “You don’t need to write anything. I have a writer on staff. Being our signatory means the letter is told from your point of view, in your own voice, and with your signature at the bottom, but my writer will draft it after she interviews you for your story.”
“What story?”
“You tell me,” Dakota said, a glint in his eye Tay didn’t understand until Dakota’s feet trapped one of his own underneath the table. “Have you ever taken advantage of a program run by a non-profit so you could keep playing?”
Oh, so he was going to pretend they weren’t playing footsies under the table, was he? Fine. Tay could play this game too. Good thing they were tucked into a quiet corner of the café. “Actually, yeah.” He ran the top of one foot up Dakota’s leg.
Dakota choked on his coffee.
Tay grinned.
“One of the first March Break camps I went to as a kid. I’m pretty sure it was supported by a non-profit.”
Dakota wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Ours?”
“No idea. I’d have to ask my parents.”
They chatted business for a few more minutes. Tay purposefully kept his feet planted on the floor and his concentration on Dakota’s words, not the heat that arrowed into his chest when Dakota smiled at him. This was important to Dakota and to the Foundation, and Tay really did want to help.
On their way out of the coffee shop, Tay dropped their tray of dishes on the counter. Outside, the fresh air was cold against his face, but he was warmed from the coffee and the company, and it felt nice against his skin as they walked back to the arena.
“Listen.” Dakota shoved his hands in his pockets. “I know this sort of thing would normally go through your agent, so if you want me to—”
Tay waved a hand. “Don’t worry about it. Just get in touch with me directly. You’ve got my number anyway.” At the end of the sidewalk, Tay hung a left in the direction of the subway. “And if you want to use it for something else,” he said, walking backward to speak to Dakota, “that’d be okay too.”
Tilting his head back, Dakota’s laugh was loud and genuine. “You’re incorrigible.”
“It’s my middle name.”
Dakota was shaking his head as he headed in the opposite direction. “See you later, Tay.”
“I’m sorry your mom couldn’t make it for dinner, Andy.” She was, apparently, “too wiped” after her most recent business trip.
Andy didn’t reply, just kept rolling dough into balls for their homemade biscuits. Stew bubbled in a Crock-Pot on the counter. Dakota had set it to cook before dropping Andy off at preschool this morning. Too bad Fiona wouldn’t get to try it.
“How was school today?”
“Good.” Andy placed a ball of dough onto the baking tray. “We had chicken and rice for lunch an’ went outside to play.”
“Yeah? It was a nice day to be outside. I went outside too.”
“Where?”
“Just down the street.” Dakota wiped his hands on a towel and let Andy finish the biscuits since he seemed to be enjoying it. “Tay came to visit, and we went out for coffee and a snack.”
“I like Tay, Daddy.”
“So do I, buddy.” Boy, did he. More than was probably wise given they barely knew each other. “Speaking of Tay,” he said, getting his mind off Tay’s smile. “He brought something for you.” Digging into the laptop bag he’d