Page 34 of Fresh Tracks
I finally manage to focus on the screen in front of me, on the dozens of folder icons with all of the records of charities TJ’s worked with. Each one of those folders represents a different organization, a different cause helped over the years. Everything here tells me the same thing that my gut does, that TJ is different.
It also tells me that he’s not the most organized person, even with Jake’s help. I’m still catching up to the last few years, but I already feel like a kid in a candy shop, with so many options to choose from and resources to use.
He’s made big donations and small ones. He’s set up some endowments that will go on for decades. I know some of it has to do with what was the most advantageous for his taxes that year. I’ve been working with non-profits and donors long enough to not be that naïve, but I still see bits of him shining through all of it. In the early years, I saw how much he supported organizations involved in the outdoors and parks. That hasn’t changed in the more recent years, but I have seen more and more giving to groups supporting kids in foster care.
On one hand, all of this is great. Actually no, it’s amazing. It’s flat out amazing what he’s done.
Part of me thinks he doesn’t even realize the impact he's made. I know he gives anonymously because of unwanted attention. But I don’t think he realizes what he could do if he was actually involved and publicly backed some of these organizations. One donor his size could practically make or break an organization like Wasatch Wishes.
When I finally have a free moment, I rummage through the desk and find a pair of scissors in one of the desk drawers. Taking them out, I start the mindless habit of trimming my bangs. I hold them between my fingers in front of me, confident enough to not use a mirror because I’ve done this hundreds of times. I’m about to take that first snip when a firm knock in the doorway has melooking up to find TJ there. He is looking delicious as ever in his gray sweats and black t-shirt.
“You want to grab some lunch? Figured since your sidekick is gone, it’d be safe to ask.”
“Hi.” I awkwardly hold my bangs in one hand and scissors in the other when I look up at him from the desk. “You were more than welcome to join us for lunch while she was here.”
He stays put in the doorway, but I can hear his low laugh from here. “She’s a bit scary. Figured I would let you two have your girl time. Also it seemed like you don’t get to spend a lot of time together. So I’d rather stay off her bad side.”
I tilt my head to the side and smile at him curiously. “Trying to stay in her good graces?”
“I just—” He drops his eyes and shifts awkwardly on his feet. I didn’t miss the hint of doubt in his expression before his eyes find mine again. “Look, do you want to go out for lunch or not? It’s on me.”
“Sure.” I nod, as I slip my laptop into my bag. He turns to the side, gesturing with his hand to come with him. I pull my messenger bag onto my shoulder and make my way to the door. I catch the way he smiles when I walk past, showing off his dimples, making my heart flutter.
Lunch might be on him, but I can’t help but find myself thinking I’d like to be on him too.
Damnit.
Stupid. Slutty. Eyes.
I takeanother bite of my salad, crunching it loud enough that I suddenly feel TJ’s eyes on me from across the table in the downtown café.
“What? Do I have something on my face?” I have alwaysbeen a messy eater and suddenly knowing that he’s watching me makes me self-conscious in a way I’m not used to. “I know I’m not very lady-like.” I drop my fork to make an air quotes gesture.
He chuckles and shakes his head. “That’s not it at all. You just remind me of Jake and me.”
“Wow. I remind you of a man?” I add, raising an eyebrow hiding my tinge of disappointment. I’ve always been sort of a tomboy and lumped in as one of the guys.
“Shit. That came out wrong. That’s not what I mean,” he says, setting down his sandwich, looking off to the side in thought. “It’s a foster kid thing. We always ate so fast. Food wasn’t always consistent, so we were probably a little too eager to eat when it was meal time.”
I raise an eyebrow at him. “So you’re saying I eat like a child?”
He palms his face and sighs. “Damnit. I’m digging myself a hole here.” His eyes find mine again and soften. “Even after I ended up with that last family and Jake, we still ate that way for a long time. I was self-conscious and hated eating around other people. I was never comfortable and always thought someone was judging me.”
He tilts his head at me. “But you? I love that you’re comfortable around me and don’t put on some act. Seriously, don’t ever change.”
That admission instantly makes me feel way less self-conscious about how he’s watching me. Leave it to TJ to always say the right thing and put people at ease.
A long, silent moment passes before I change the subject. “So this lunch is actually good timing."
He raises his scarred, pierced brow, eyeing me curiously. “Already bored working with me?”
He smiles, but I still catch the slightest bit of worry in his eyes. As if I could ever not enjoy working with him and hisbrother. Add that as yet another reason he’s a terrific boss I guess. He practically refuses to say I workforhim. He always says working together, collaborating, or consulting, and then he actually backs it up with his actions.
“Definitely not,” I say, setting down my fork and grabbing my laptop out of my bag. “Far from it actually. I wanted to show you some charities I picked for this year, but if it’s ok with you, I also want to work on a plan for the future to make the biggest impact.”
Any hint of that worry disappears as he sits back in his chair and watches attentively as I pull up a presentation and spin my laptop around.
“So some of these are ones you’ve given to in the past, but haven’t in recent years. I thought they seemed like something you’d still be interested in supporting. Any reason you stopped?”
