Chapter 3

The briefing was just as the name: brief. It lasted no more than twenty-five minutes and in all of that time, Colleen could barely concentrate on what was being said. Three things were playing catch in her head.

Firstly, Selena. She had told Liz about Selena when she got into the main hall and they made sure to steer clear of her. Not that it was necessary anyway, Selena was rather preoccupied with flirting with a blue-eyed man sitting opposite her. At least that was behind them. For now.

Secondly, the one thing that worried her the entire week: Camilla Lourdes's death. And this brings us to the third participant of the catch game in her head, Camilla’s son. This one had dark hazel eyes that pierced into hers when he gaped at her with a glint of amusement while they were in the men’s room. She had muttered an apology before she ran out of there. Although she was sure he didn’t hear it because her voice was in an undertone. She was never one to go fill her head with images of a beautiful man she had just met. But this beautiful man was Andre Lourdes, the major benefactor of the very ‘camp’ she conned her way into.

What were the odds she would never encounter him again?

Oh, she knew the answer to this one. A negative zero point five!

There was no chance she wouldn’t come across Andre Lourdes again. All she could hope for was that when that moment came, he wouldn’t remember her sneaking into the men’s room. Though it begs the wonder. What if he found out what she and Liz did? What was she going to tell him when he asked what she was doing in the men’s room? Obviously, she was hiding, that he knew. But from whom? From what?

All of this remained to be answered in her head as she moved into the small dining hall where they were going to have their first official dinner with a few benefactors in attendance and the other participants of DESC. In the briefing, they had been given a program of events for the next three weeks and it involved dinners like this, projects, seminars, networking events, dinner parties, and some other interesting things. So yeah, they were here to change their lives but they were going to be having a hell of a lot of fun doing that.

As Colleen was moving through the Buffett service with her plate in her hand, someone came up behind her, speaking very close to her nape so that she felt the hot breath fan against her skin. "Mrs. Caddell, is it?”

She glanced over her shoulder and heaven’s help her, her breath hitched and her heart skipped a beat. Something she could swear he noticed. But she managed to keep her cool.

“Ms. Caddell.” She passed him a lukewarm smile and added in response. “It’s 'ms,' without the 'R.'”

“Ohh,” Andre drawled dryly, scooping a moderate amount of rice onto his plate. “Good to know. Do you recognize me?”

She swallowed. “I think everyone in this room knows who you are."

“I guess my reputation precedes me. But unlike almost everyone in this room, this is the second time I have seen you.”

“Is it?” her nervous voice came out at a too high pitch, which caused Andre to chuckle.

“Have you forgotten already? That’s odd. Considering it happened just yesterday. Anyway, I remember every detail of the first time we met. Permit me to jog your memory, Ms. Caddell?” His voice was doing all sorts of things to her brain. Maybe because he was interrogating her. That French accent wasn’t deep but it was noticeable every here and there, which only added a ring to his sensuality.

When she didn’t respond to him, he continued to explain. “Ahh, you see what happened is that you practically ran into the toilet—the men’s toilet, if I may add. And you kept peeping through the door, waiting I suppose. For what? I can’t tell. I would probably not have noticed you instantly, but it’s hard to miss that strawberry-like hair of yours. That said, would you mind sharing what you were doing in the men’s room?”

Well, that was just about right. Detailed actually. Annoying detailed.

“No, Mr. Lourdes,” Colleen answered evenly, not looking back at him.

Not backing down, he probed, “What were you running from?”

“Nothing.”

“Who were you hiding from?”

“No one.”

He laughed. “Now that’s an out-and-out lie.”

“That’s your concern, Mr. Lourdes. You asked a question and I answered. Whether you choose to believe me is up to you.” Colleen flashed him one of her half smiles that depicted nothing but mock innocence before moving on to the next Buffett tray.

Noticing that the olives were still heaped in one tray, she muttered under her breath, “how can anyone avoid such good food?”

“Because Olives has got to be number three on the list of America's most hated food,” Andre chirped in right behind her and she did a mental eye roll. "Seems you’re different,” he added.

“Of course I'm different. Olives are sensational. Those small balls burst into inexplicable flavors in your mouth when you eat them. It’s sooo good. Aside from tasting so great, do you know they are highly rich in vitamins and are powerful antioxidants?”

Andre looked rather bemused listening to how enthusiastic she was about defending Olives. Olives! And all along she was giving him the cold shoulder when all he was trying to do was make conversation. I mean, the thought of what she might have been running from was definitely something he wanted to know, but today, that was just a conversation starter.

“It’s either you’re an epicure, a dietician, or you just really love olives.”

She laughed. “I guess I just really love Olives.”

“There. I made you laugh. I was beginning to think you may have perceived me to be Sherlock Holmes or something.”

“Sherlock Holmes? Oh please. Far from it.”

“Ahh, very well.”

By now, they had finished serving themselves and were at the end of the table when Colleen turned to face him, taking a close view of his face. Andre had a striking resemblance to his mother, with a similar Greek nose, the same brown hair, and similar eyes that haunted her dreams last night. Guess you could say, like mother, like son. Aside from all of those features, his presence held such a strong aura not very distinct from his masculinity. Andre Lourdes was well built; broad shoulders, full triceps, hooded eyes, and what-not? It looked like a whole lot of effort was put into carving the man. And Colleen, who had always been a sucker for art, couldn't help but admire the one in front of her.

“It was nice to meet you, Mr. Lourdes. I’d shake your hands but mine is pretty full,” Colleen said, gesturing to her tray-filled hands.

“Where are you sitting?” He asked.

“Somewhere. Anywhere. I don’t know. Shouldn’t be hard to figure that one out, should it?”

“Maybe, maybe not.” Without her consent, he relieved her of her plate. “Come sit with me.”

“Where? At the benefactor's table?” She scoffed. “No way. They would think I am desperate or something. And I don’t want a red flag looming over my head for the next three weeks.”

Andre couldn’t help but laugh. She was amusing him without even meaning to. “First off, there is no such thing as the benefactors table. It just so happens that the table I want us to sit at is occupied by the benefactors of this program. And secondly, that’s the whole point of coming to DESC, Ms. Caddell; to network with people. Be it potential business partners, investors, or just like-minds. So, there is no perfect time to meet with people.”

With that, she followed him to the table. Surprising enough, they were nothing like she had envisaged. She expected there would be some sort of awkward silence when she came to the table being the only ‘different’ person but they were all so very welcoming. In point of fact, they were very interested in knowing her and Colleen was more than happy to fill them in on her life, leaving the pitiful parts of it, of course.

“I grew up in Greeley, Colorado. Beautiful scenery,” she was saying. “I only just moved to Detroit two years ago."

“Ohh, really? I did too!” The fifty-something-year-old man said enthusiastically. “People never talk about how beautiful and quiet Colorado is. Especially the countryside. You know, I hope to buy a property there soon, and erect a structure like no other that can stand the test of time. Somewhere I can live the rest of my old age.”

“Well lucky for you, Mr. Ohio, Ms. Caddell is an Architect.”

Colleen shot Andre a surprised look. How did he already know she was an Architect? Noticing the surprise on her face, he winked at her.

“Is she now?” Mr. Ohio probed. “Where did you graduate from, dear?”

“Boulder University.”

“That’s incredulous! You know most people want to travel far away from home when they finish high school. But you, Ms. Caddell, you are a native. I like that.”

“Colorado is a beautiful place. It’s hard to resist living there forever. I appreciate the compliment, Mr. Ohio."

“It was nothing. I have a feeling we’ll be seeing more of each other in the future.”

So maybe DESC wouldn’t go as horribly as she envisaged. Maybe all she needed was to be a little optimistic and open-minded about the outcome. Maybe she should. . .well, she had no idea how that statement should end. But maybe, just thinking 'may be' is enough for now.

What could go wrong?