Forever Love (Arabesque) by Celeste O. Norfleet Page A

and your attempt to discredit the mayor is in fact—”
    “Whoa, first of all, OCC is in no one’s pocket and secondly, we didn’t discredit anyone,” she quickly interrupted.
    “At least the second part of that statement is true. You didn’t damage the mayor, but you did call into question the reputation of your organization.”
    She opened her mouth, stunned by his audacity. Then she smiled knowingly. “You’re a sore loser. Get over it. You got beat down today. Live with it.”
    Keith shook his head and looked around the small office. “Not necessarily. It was a rookie mistake and perhaps you need to know me better to understand the way I work. I’m very good at my job. By tomorrow morning the media will be questioning your organization, particularly centering on your very generous gift to us.”
    “What gift? We didn’t give you any money,” she declared immediately, thinking he’d pulled some underhanded ruse with fake bank statements sent to the media.
    “No, not money, the nice lady from Los Angeles.Big mistake.”
    “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she lied badly.
    Keith saw it instantly. “Good, I’m glad to see it bothers you to lie. But the fact is, someone put ‘the people’ up to that shambles of a drive-by media assault this afternoon and—”
    “What happened this afternoon was a fair political debate about issues, not a media assault,” she interrupted.
    “Including your actor friend from L.A.?” he questioned.
    Gia took a deep breath, then hesitated. “As I said earlier, I have no idea about that. She’s not an OCC volunteer.”
    Keith smirked. “Of course she isn’t. I’d disavow her too if I were you, but a word to the wise, you might want to find out exactly who she is before casting stones. But I didn’t come here to talk about your volunteers, paid or otherwise.”
    “We don’t have to pay people to disagree with the mayor. Perhaps you’re too far up in your ivory tower living in the lap of luxury to hear this, but news flash, Mr. Washington, people are suffering. They need jobs, affordable housing and education. Turning a blind eye to that and living in a privileged status isn’t gonna fly anymore. The mayor promised us relief. Where is it?”
    The fire in her eyes sparkled. Keith smiled. “You are beautiful when you’re angry.”
    “Don’t patronize me,” she said, hearing the familiar vibration of her cell phone’s message alert. She grabbed her purse and pulled it out, realizing she had never turned the ringer back on after she switched it to vibrate during the town hall meeting.
    “Sorry, no, of course not,” he said, “I apologize if you took it that way. If you felt insulted or patronized, it was unintended. In other words, I was joking.”
    “I don’t joke,” she said as she scrolled her caller ID, checking the last few missed calls.
    “Yes, I can see that.”
    “Getting back to your original point, I accept your proposal to open a dialogue, but I don’t think it’s a good idea to...” She stopped talking on seeing a missed call from Crestar Nursing and Rehab Center. “Mr. Washington, we’re gonna have to cut this short,” she said, standing. “Thank you for stopping by this evening. I look forward to meeting with you in the next few days.”
    “Are you okay?” he asked. “You seem...”
    “I’m fine, thank you. I just have to be someplace right now. I’d appreciate it if you’d have your assistant contact the office for an appointment next time. Good night.” She held her hand out to shake.
    He took her hand gently and felt a slight tremor. She quickly released his hand and walked to the door.
    Keith nodded. “Good night.” He left.
    Gia hurried back to her desk, grabbed her cell phone and called the nursing home. An attendant at the nurse’s station answered. “Hello, my name is Gia Duncan. I just got a message about my grandmother, Ms. Julia Banks,” she said anxiously.
    “Yes, Ms. Duncan, I called you