His Touch by Patty Blount Page B

everything that had taken her focus off this particular client.
    She rose, fetched coffee and skimmed the notes, but her attention kept wandering to green eyes and stubbled cheeks.
    “Kara, are you—Oh.” Mr. Drew opened her office door and frowned at her. “Wow. You look terrible.”
    Stung, she managed a tiny smile. “Words every woman longs to hear.”
    “Sorry, sorry. Are you okay?”
    Tears almost drowned her but she managed to stop the deluge. She shook her head. “I called 911 last night. Nadia turned blue.”
    “My God, Kara. What happened?” Her boss shut the door and took the seat near her desk, his handsome face creased with concern.
    “Ah, croup, they told me. They kept her until about six this morning, gave her steroids and nebulizer treatments. She’s with my sister now.”
    Mr. Drew angled his head and studied her for a long moment. “Kara, do you want this client? Be honest. If you don’t, I can—”
    A wave of tears pressed on the dam she’d erected but she swallowed and held up a hand. “Mr. Drew, I do want this client. But the timing—”
    “I understand. We’ll tell Saxon the truth. He asked for you by name. If he’s unwilling to wait, then—”
    Gratitude rose up along with the tears and Kara trembled. “Thank you, sir.”
    A knock on the door interrupted them. Tracy opened it and escorted Ronald T. Saxon inside.
    “Mr. Saxon. Welcome.” Mr. Drew extended a hand. “This is Kara Larsen.”
    Ronald T. Saxon was not what Kara had expected. She’d expected old money and an upper crust accent and privilege. That’s what her research had shown. But he was younger than she expected; no older than fifty. He wore slacks and an untucked shirt, sunglasses tucked carelessly into the open V at the neck. He had a full head of silver hair with a trim beard. He grinned and shook her hand. “Kara, it’s great to finally meet you. You have quite a reputation.”
    Stunned, Kara stuttered. “Oh, um. Well, that’s flattering.”
    He shook his head. “Flattery’s usually false. That wasn’t.” He sat down at one of the chairs in front of Kara’s desk, put a cardboard tray of Starbucks in front of them. “I bought four regulars. Help yourselves.”
    Already at ease, Kara did. She stepped around to her chair and realized she really did want this client. She would find a way to make this work. While Kara and Mr. Drew sipped from the cardboard cups, Mr. Saxon pulled out a tablet and set it on Kara’s desk. He tapped the screen a few times and a photo appeared.
    It was of a child. A little girl, not much older than Nadia, sitting in a wheelchair. Beside her was a model dressed as a cartoon princess. The child smiled like it was Christmas morning but the yellow tinge to her complexion made it clear she was critically ill.
    “This is Marnie. She’s my neighbors’ little girl. They’ve got four children. The oldest is the same age as my son. I’ve known these folks for a long, long time. When Marnie was about three, she was diagnosed with a rare disorder.” Mr. Saxon frowned at his coffee cup for a long moment. “I won’t bore you with all the medical jargon but the net-net is Marnie died shortly after this picture was taken.”
    Kara swallowed hard. Her emotions were already hovering way too close to the surface. Looking at pictures of a little girl who’d never grow up after spending the night in the hospital while her own daughter struggled to breathe was simply too much. Her eyes slipped closed and Mr. Saxon continued.
    “After Marnie passed, we found out that a promising drug therapy might have saved her but it was mired in miles of government red tape. I want to fund research into treatment for kids like Marnie, get them access to the things that work as fast as we safely can.”
    “The foundation you want to establish,” Kara said.
    “Yes. Marnie’s Love.”
    Kara smiled. “Okay. Tell us how you envision this foundation and how you’ll grant funding.”
    Mr. Saxon dipped back