Page 35 of Fresh Tracks
He points at the screen and gestures for me to go back through the first few slides, studying them. I take the moment to admire his features from this close. The way his lips pull to the side as he thinks, popping one of his dimples. The way his square jaw tightens under his salt and pepper stubble and the way that muscle in his neck ticks as he focuses. Or the way his shaggy, dark blond hair with that perfect dusting of gray mixed in hangs over his ear just enough for him to keep tucking it out of the way.
He looks delicious. So delicious that I completely didn’t notice that he’s still staring at the screen, which is great because I’m practically salivating over him.
“Did you forget your reading glasses?” I tease.
He doesn’t move his head, but his eyes flick to me in a playful glare. “How old do you think I am, Rainbow?”
Not old enough to turn me off. That’s for sure.
Every time he calls me Rainbow my heart flutters and my skin tingles. In Bend, I thought he was picking on me — being the little sister, that’s usually the case — but I’m starting to think that’s not it now.
“I know how old you are. You’re just too easy to tease.”
He shrugs in acknowledgement. “Just easy for you and Sutton.”
His mouth lifts into a boyish grin, popping that damn dimple again before he winks at me. Is he flirting with me? No.
“Seriously, he never stops.” My mind practically tunes that out, still fixated on the flirting situation.
There’s no way that Mr. Way-Too-Hot-Famous-Rockstar, and the bad boy frontman of Teal Tigers would ever flirt with me. Then again, this guy apparently gives eight-figures a year to charity and cares enough about it to hire a consultant to do an even better job at being an impossibly good human.
Yeah, maybe I’m just in my head. He’s just being friendly. Unfortunately, that doesn’t change the fact that the image of him doing shirtless pull-ups has been living rent free in my head for weeks. I shake my head, burying that memory away, and focus back on my laptop.
“So why’d you and Jake stop working with that one?”
He looks at the screen then back at me before picking his sandwich back up. “It’s not that we didn’t like them. We’d give to them again. We just always had this ‘share the wealth’ mindset and wanted to change it up every now and then. We thought we would be making a bigger impact that way instead of always giving to the same places.”
I get his sentiment. It’s truly not the worst idea, but it is one that could really hurt some of these organizations. With the size of his donations, if he gave to a charity for years then suddenly stopped, it could wreak havoc on their operating budgets.
“Fair enough,” I add, flipping to the next slide. “So here are some of the new ones I wanted to add to your list for this year.”
He must see the look on my face when I read back over the list. He follows my eyes, humming thoughtfully to himself before reaching toward the screen and tapping Wasatch Wishes. “That’s the one you worked for, right? I think I already give to them.”
I swallow my feelings, choosing to remember the good times. It’s not their fault I wasn’t in the budget anymore. “I did work there. And no, you don’t anymore. I looked at your donations for last year.”
I know I really need to finish going through the last few years, but I know who he gave to last year. And it may be too late to save my job, but at least if he gives to Wasatch Wishes, it’ll help the kids that I loved working with and I would do anything to make sure they’re taken care of.
He nods, but his eyes stay focused on the bottom of the list.
“I figured give to the ones you’re already working with plus add a couple new ones.” I turn my laptop back around. “I can send you this list and you can go over it. Jake said you’re not really on a time crunch, so there’s no rush.”
“Nope, I’m good. I like your plan. Make it happen.” He smiles softly at me before nodding and taking a bite of his sandwich.
I’m too caught up in that damned smile to realize what he just said.
“Wait, TJ. That’s it? Just ‘make it happen’?” I blurt out, holding a bite of my salad on my fork mid-air in stunned confusion.
He couldn’t have said that. Working with donors was always fun, but it could still be a headache because getting them to commit can be like pulling teeth.
But this? This is the kind of decisiveness I like. That’s the kind of thing I would do. No hemming and hawing, just action.Make it happen.
He looks back at me, every feature of his face etched with conviction. “When I feel it, when I know it, I don’t waste timeand fuck around. I just do it. You of all people should understand that.”
I look back at him in a mix of amazement but also understanding. He’s right. I am spontaneous. I love it, but this is different. He’s talking about choosing to give away millions of dollars just because he vibes with my idea and it feels right. My decisions to go on a weekend road trip or get a new tattoo or piercing on a whim seem so trivial now.
He clearly senses my trepidation because he sets his sandwich back down and leans back in his chair.
“Look, I’m serious. This is how I do things,” he says, laughing to himself. “You want to know how I started in real estate? By making decisions with this.” He taps his chest, right over his heart.
