The Christmas Campaign. Patricia Bradley

huh?”

      “Nope.”

      “But I haven’t found out what the G stands for in your name.”

      “And you never will.” She should have known that was bound to come up. She gave him her most serious stare. If only her mother hadn’t named her Giselle. Even as a child she’d known the name didn’t fit her. It’d taken her father’s intervention to get everyone to call her Nicole. “The meeting tonight...”

      “Oh, okay,” he grumbled. “Tonight I’m submitting a proposal to open a senior center in Cedar Grove, and I’d like you to support it.”

      “That’s no problem. I’ll be glad to support that.”

      He unwrapped the napkin from around the cutlery. “I also need twenty-five thousand dollars from the council.”

      “That puts a different spin on it.” There was very little money in Cedar Grove’s coffers to spend on nonessential projects. She should know. She’d been going over the budget since last week. “Why do you need twenty-five thousand from the city?”

      He leaned forward, his casual air gone. “Primarily, so the city will get behind the center. No money invested equals little interest.”

      She saw his point. “How about you? Are you investing in it?”

      “Yes, time and money.”

      “Do you have a budget?”

      He nodded and reached in his briefcase. “You’ll get another copy tonight, but I brought this in case you wanted to look over the proposal before the meeting.”

      Jake was prepared, and she didn’t know why that surprised her. She flipped through the pages, and then set them aside. “Why do you want to do this?”

      His blue eyes darkened as he caught her gaze and held it. “Because there’s no longer one here. The previous center closed because it wasn’t well run and the director lined his pockets instead of providing services.” He leaned back.

      “I remember that,” she said. “I believe he’s now spending his time in a state-run prison facility.”

      “Yep. And even with a new director, the center couldn’t regain its momentum, and government funding was cut, effectively closing it.”

      “How will your center be different from that one?” Nicole asked. “How will you get senior adults to come?”

      “There won’t be anyone stealing money, for one thing. And they will be running it, or at least an advisory board made up of senior citizens will be. I’ve talked to a lot of the senior adults in town, and they’ve told me they’d support a center if it provided what they needed.

      “Several of them pointed out that they’d like to have a place to exercise without being intimidated or hurried by younger people. I want it to be a place where seniors can be comfortable.”

      He sat up straighter. “Last of all, but probably the most important, it’s something my grandfather wanted. It’s a way I can honor his memory.”

      Their waitress appeared and set their plates in front of them. Jake’s personality instantly moved into charm mode. “Thanks, sweetheart,” he said, dazzling her with a smile.

      Nicole focused on her food. If passion were enough, Jake would make a success of this senior center. Her problem with the project was sustainability—his. If she agreed to help him to the tune of twenty-five thousand dollars of the city’s money, she’d first have to believe he’d stick to the project. Even though she really had no reason to believe he wouldn’t.

       He can’t stick to one woman.

      That was not a measuring stick, and she couldn’t let how he lived his personal life override his reputation for being a good businessman.

      They ate in silence for a few minutes, and then he put his fork down. “Well, what do you think?”

      She sipped her tea, trying to find a diplomatic way of saying what was on her mind. “I think it’s a good idea...”

      “But?”

      “Are you sure you’re the person to do this?” She’d feel much better about it if his cousin Peter were the one asking. “A month ago I saw in the Gazette that you were in Paris and before that, in the wine country in Italy. Do you really have time for this?”

      Two red dots appeared on his cheeks. “Are you questioning my ability?”

      “Not exactly. More like your focus or ability to commit. It’s a practical concern. And, if it’s something your grandfather wanted, why isn’t your cousin helping you with it?”

      The red dots grew to splotches. He crossed his arms. “We don’t work too well together, and I assure you, if I get the go-ahead, I’ll make time for it.”

      She’d hit on a touchy subject by the tone of his voice. “Tell you what, I’ll look at your proposal and see how the numbers add up when I get back to the office. I’ll let you know if I can support the center.”

      He flashed her another of his high-wattage smiles. “You will. It’s a worthwhile project.”

      She didn’t doubt that.