Will nodded, his honey-toned face reflecting his enthusiasm. “She wants me to call her with a date and time for a dinner meeting. She wants you there and anyone else with a role to play in organizing the event.”
Minka quietly sighed, not sure how to respond given the menacing element that had taken hold of Qasim’s profile. She opted for diplomacy. “Sounds like a good idea, Will, thanks. I appreciate your diligence.”
“Where’s this dinner?” Qasim’s voice carried a toneless quality. He kept his dark eyes on the tie he had wrapped around his fist.
“Nothing’s set. I’m not even sure who all needs to be there.” He looked at Minka. “Guess I could use your help deciding how big a deal we want to make this.”
“I’ll come by your office before quitting time and we’ll discuss it,” Minka offered. “Thanks for taking the reins on this.”
Will smiled broadly. “Just doin’ my job.” He nodded toward Qasim. “I’ll let you get back to work.”
Qasim managed to drag himself up out of his agitated haze. “It’s good work, Will.”
The words seemed to be the encouragement Will was looking for. He knocked a fist conspiratorially against Qasim’s upper arm and then set off in the direction of his office.
Minka made a pretense of straightening an already pristine desk. “You’re gonna cut off circulation to that hand if you wrap that tie any tighter.”
That comment made Qasim smile, and he felt some of his tension wane. “I’m not handling this too well, am I?”
“Well, it is Vectra Bauer.” Minka shrugged. “Men tend to go stupider than usual over her, I think.”
He grunted then eased off the desk. “Amen to that. Keep me posted on this dinner meeting. I want to be there.”
“Will do,” Minka called.
Heading for his office, Qasim stopped before he rounded the corner. “You wanted to tell me something.”
Minka waved a hand. “It can wait.”
“No, it can’t,” he guessed.
She smiled self-consciously. “Something’s telling me that my ‘nothing’ probably really is nothing.”
Sim assessed her for an extended moment. “Why the change?”
He’d asked in that way of his that told Minka he wasn’t going to let her off the hook without a convincing reason. “Earlier, after the meeting—seeing how...” she glanced at the tie still bound around his fist “...on edge you were about having the event at Carro’s, I decided to take another look at our usual venues.”
“And?”
“I wanted to see if there were any we could get to lower their bottom line. I came up with several and planned to run them by you, but then Will came in having worked his magic.” She gave a whimsical toss of her bouncy bob. “Talking about it after seemed moot.”
“Why do I get the feeling there’s more to this?”
Minka’s gaze did not falter. She was well aware that her boss had a sixth sense about such things. It was one of the abilities that made him so sensational at his job. The truth was all he would accept, and he’d know if she was giving him less than.
“There’s probably more, but at this point I don’t think it’ll materialize into anything. I stand by what I said. Vectra is our best choice. I honestly don’t think she’ll charge you a thing to have the event at Carro’s.”
Qasim winced, the earlier certainty in his expression giving way to a less confident element. “I’m not exactly her favorite person right now.”
Minka grinned, her laughter imminent. “Then it’s a good thing she doesn’t hold a man’s stupidity against him.”
The dig sent Qasim into a roar of laughter, which carried down the hall as he returned to his office. Alone, Minka’s carefree expression tightened. She looked down at a folder, the contents of which she’d very much wanted to share.
Chapter 8
Robb DeWitt was happy to open his restaurant for a second private event a week later. That night, Dazzles played host to members of the board for Qasim Wilder’s Wilder Warriors Foundation. The fund benefited low-income kids in and around the greater San Francisco area who showed tenacity and perseverance in overcoming obstacles related to school, family and peers that were part of their daily lives.
Each year, Qasim’s organization awarded full-ride scholarships to graduating football players from ten area high schools. Qasim greatly disliked the fact that the foundation’s board wouldn’t allow him to pad the fund with his own money. He would’ve been just fine with paying for the education of every graduating ball player. Minka, who knew that her boss’s generosity bordered on obsession, had given that stipulation.