Page 38 of One Southern Summer

Thanks to Maribelle Lansing, he didn’t have to take every meeting invite that came his way, hoping it might lead to a sizable donation. Right now he had the luxury of saying no. Staying focused on the expansion instead of worrying whether he’d done enough.

“You’re going to want to make space in that packed calendar of yours once you hear this.”

“Doubt it.”

“Someone reached out to me because they know we’re friends. They’d like to film a documentary about the great work you’re doing with Imari’s Place.”

Cole paused then set the ketchup bottle down in front of Hemby. “No thanks.”

“What do you mean?” Hemby frowned. “It’s a documentary, not a TMZ exposé.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Cole picked up his cheeseburger. “We are moving forward with the expansion. The foundation’s poured. We’re fully funded. I don’t need to deal with a film crew.”

“It’s probably only three guys. Maybe four.” Hemby’s eyes gleamed over the rim of his glass. “You’ll hardly even know they’re there.”

“Right.” Cole scoffed. “Cameras, operators and producers are so discreet. Practically invisible.”

Conversation hummed around them, punctuated by the occasional burst of laughter and the dishes clinking together as a teenage boy bused a table nearby. The lunch crowd had packed the booths and the counter at The Main Street Deli, Hemby and Cole’s usual weekday meeting place.

“Your work is garnering attention. People are talking about your plans to build a larger home for trafficked women. Isn’t that what you want? Positive press? This guy’s an experienced documentary filmmaker. A good one. All he’s asking for is a meeting.”

“I can think of ten reasons why a documentary about Imari’s Place is a bad idea.”

Hemby reached across the worn Formica table and swiped one of Cole’s fries. “And I can give you one brilliant reason why you should say yes.”

“Super.” He hoped his sarcastic tone emphasized his lack of enthusiasm. “Enlighten me.”

“Avery.” Hemby grinned like he’d just won the US Open then popped the french fry into his mouth.

“What about her?” He didn’t like where this was going, even though he’d suspected this so-called friend had an ulterior motive.

“She’s already had a successful TV show. People know who she is and she’ll know exactly how to handle a renovation with a camera crew hovering over her shoulder.”

“That’s a weak argument, counselor.” Cole plucked a napkin from the stainless steel dispenser. “Aren’t you supposed to be a lawyer? Because you just refuted your point about how we wouldn’t even know the cameras were there.”

Hemby shrugged then took a bite of his chicken salad sandwich. “You can poke holes in my argument all you want. That doesn’t change the fact that you know I’m right.”

“I’ve already misled her about the funding.” Cole leaned closer and dropped his voice low. “I can’t ask her to be a part of a documentary.”

Hemby stopped chewing long enough to roll his eyes. “You are not obligated to tell her where the money came from. She’s not on your board of directors. That’s between Mrs. Lansing and her family. And I’m not suggesting that you lie. Or trick her into participating. It’s just a documentary.”

“But she’ll think I’m using her.”

Hemby’s brows sailed upward. “A little late to worry about that, isn’t it?”

Cole dropped his sandwich back in the basket, his appetite waning. He wasn’t using her. Was he?

After she’d graciously accepted his apologies last night and planted that kiss on his cheek, he’d thought the vibe between them was tilting out of the friend zone. Until she’d quashed the mood by pointing out that he was still single. Even followed up with the zinger about how he’d make someone very happy.

There was no way he’d confess he wanted that someone to be her.

But he wasn’t about to tell Hemby any of that. It would only encourage him.

“You’re starting to come around. I can see the wheels turning.” Hemby raised his glass toward their server, hinting he’d like a refill. “Stop trying to analyze all the possible outcomes. Just ask her. The worst she can say is no.”

“It’s not just about her.”

“Then what’s the hang-up?”

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