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Chapter 3
Amara
“Good morning, J-Baby!” Sitting on the side of my son’s bed, I lightly tickle him through the comforter. This is my favorite time of day, this and bedtime. Just the two of us, no stress or worries. My son in his superhero pajamas, warm and sweet from a good night’s sleep.
“Mommmm!” He squirms and giggles, only halfway trying to escape. After a minute or so, he finally admits defeat. “You win!”
I take my victory prize, pressing kisses all over his soft cheeks. My actions inspire another round of giggles for both of us.
“It’s time to wake up and get ready for school, big boy.” Ruffling his curly hair, I stand up and walk to the door leading to the hallway. “Get dressed and come to the kitchen. Cereal is on the table. If I don’t see you in five minutes, I’m coming back for round two.”
“Okay, Mom. I hear you.”
I can’t help but smile at his grumbling.
Thirty minutes later, I walk with him into the local elementary school.
“Hello, Josiah. Hello Ms. Sage.” His teacher greets us as soon as we enter the building.
“Be good, okay? Shannon will be here to pick you up after school and take you to the Hangout.”
“I remember, Mom.” He sighs like the weight of the world rests on his shoulders.
“Good. I’ll pick you up when I’m off work.” With one last kiss on his forehead, I leave for work while he joins his class.
???
Once I’m at the office, it’s hard to concentrate. I haven’t stopped thinking about Patrick since last Friday. Talk about making an impression. Not only does he look like he should be modeling men’s underwear, but he also swooped in like Prince Charming to save Josiah’s birthday.
Too bad he’s younger than me.
And my boss.
Which doesn’t stop me from appreciating the way he looks when he enters my office later that day. The sleeves of his pale green shirt are rolled up, exposing sinewed forearms. His charcoal grey slacks fit temptingly across his narrow, tight waist.
He closes the door and takes a seat across from me, making the uncomfortable chairs look like props from a Wall Street drama film.
“What can I help you with?” I decide to be proactive, since the longer he sits here the more fidgety I get.
“Amara.” He should bottle his voice; it’s so deep and velvety it sends tingles down my spine when he says my name. “I have a project I’d like you to consider working on.”
“What kind of project?” I ask.
“Last year, I started a nonprofit organization to fund technology education for children in urban areas. Obviously, our company makes considerable annual donations. But recently we’ve had an influx of capital, and we need someone with a knowledge of business—and a passion for the project—to work on it full time.
“Do you think this could be something you’re interested in?” he asks.
I take a minute to think. This is so unexpected. This morning, I came into work like it’s a typical day, and now I’m fielding a job offer from the CEO of the company. “What would my position be?”
“You would be the Associate Director, primarily working with me as the Executive Director. Our first goal would be to get the proper procedures and policies in place. Then I’d like to get the technology programs out to the kids as soon as possible.”
“This sounds amazing. Please tell me about the salary and benefits.”
We spend the next hour discussing the details. He gives me a copy of the job description. Basically, it’s my ideal job with a dream salary. It makes even more than my current position, it utilizes my education, and best of all, I won’t have to answer to someone like Chad.
I’m ready to say yes, but one question has me hesitating. “Why me?”
He leans forward in the chair, crossing his arms on my desk. “A large part of my success with this company came from decisions made with my gut. From the outside, they might look risky. But they always turned out right.
