A Is for Abstinence (14 page)

“I approve of the lucky hat,” I said. “Sports Fan Val is a look I could get used to.”

…

The Greshams showed up at the baseball game dressed for a golf tournament. The only indication that they were in the right place was the San Francisco Giants cap Mr. Gresham wore on the very top of his head trucker-hat style. He looked like a jackass, but he’d sprung for amazing seats right behind the away team’s on-deck circle, which thrilled Val to pieces, so I didn’t begrudge him his lack of style.

They stood when we arrived, and Mr. Gresham gaped at Val’s attire. “The
Angels
?” he gasped, not quite insulted, but almost.

Val gave him a very solemn look and said, “Mr. Gresham, I’ll be frank with you. I could really use your money for the agency, but I don’t want it badly enough to root for the Giants when they’re up against my Angels. Not now, not ever.”

I almost burst into laughter. It was a bold move that I don’t know if I’d have made, but Val would forever be Val. Whether she was standing up for her right to not have sex, or root for the away team against the boss, she would never compromise her personal standards.

Mrs. Gresham chuckled under her breath while her husband blinked at Val in astonishment. Then, without warning, he threw his head back and let out a big belly laugh. “A woman of true principal,” he teased. “I can respect that.”

Val gave him a smile that would one day win her an election, and they fell into comfortable conversation. Until the Giants took the lead with a three-run homer in the bottom of the second, that is, and Val started shouting insults at the Giants. By the seventh, the Angels were behind six to one and Val had gone beyond slinging insults to arguing with the umpires and trying to coach the Angels.

The Greshams seemed as surprised and amused as I was, but the resigned look on Bryce’s face suggested he’d sat through many games just like this. “She’s like this every time,” he said, reading my thoughts.

Laughing, I pulled Val’s hand into mine and laced our fingers together. “Should we go get some corn dogs or something?” I asked. “Let you walk off a little steam before you get us thrown out of the park?”

Val slumped back in her chair with a disgusted sigh as one of the Angels struck out and ended the inning. “He went down
looking
,” she groaned. As the player walked back toward the dugout, she shouted, “You can’t hit the ball if you don’t swing, Trout! That’s twice in a row!”

Unfortunately we were only two rows away from the field, which was well within hearing range, and that comment earned her a glare from the center fielder in question. When she caught his attention she blew him a kiss and yelled, “Don’t worry, you’re still my favorite!”

The guy tried to hold his glare, but he broke down and laughed. “Thanks, gorgeous. I’ll hit the next one just for you,” he said as he disappeared into the dugout.

I chuckled to myself. Nobody could resist the woman. “Should I be worried about the competition?” I teased, bringing her hand to my lips.

“Only if he homers it on his next at bat.”

She met my eyes and sighed, a lot of her aggression gone. “Sorry. I’m just frustrated because they’re better than this. It’s one thing to lose if you’re trying your best, but they’ve given up.”

That made Bryce laugh. “She’s like that in the office, too. Never lets anyone slack off, and never gives up.”

“I’m not the only one,” she replied. “You’re the one who sees every adoption we handle through to the end.”

That comment finally got them all discussing the reason they were meeting today. I’d been worried that I would be bored while they talked shop the rest of the afternoon, but this meeting seemed more like they were interviewing Val to become one of the family. I found the get-to-know-you session fascinating and extremely enlightening. I learned more about Val in those last two innings than I had the entire time I’d known her.

The Greshams did ask a lot of questions about the adoption agency she ran, and there was some business talk, but for the most part they were more interested in the people running it than the organization itself. They wanted their money to be in good hands.

It was during the bottom of the ninth that the real question of the hour was finally brought to the table. Val’s BMW convertible driving, friendly to everyone, Stanford Law do-gooder, fellow adoptee, best guy friend said, “Well, I believe Val has now told you everything there possibly is to know about herself, and with her team currently losing an embarrassing eight to one, you have now seen her at her worst.”

I chuckled at that along with the Gershams. Val was definitely not a gracious loser. (Not surprising, considering she wasn’t personally capable of losing.)

“The only question left,” Bryce said, “is can F is for Families count on your patronage?”

As much as I hate to admit it, I understood why that woman in Val’s office had spoken of Val and Bryce as if they were some sort of power couple. Bryce was basically the male version of Val, and together they were downright formidable. They had me sold, but the Gershams hesitated.

“You’ve seen the numbers,” Bryce persisted. “You’ve met the staff. You know what F is for Families is all about. What else is it that has you unconvinced?”

Mr. and Mrs. Gersham shared a look and then Mr. Gersham said, “We heard that Miss Jensen was planning to leave the organization. Is this true?”

They obviously weren’t thrilled with the news, but Val wasn’t the least bit ruffled. “It’s true,” she said, nodding. “I will be handing the reins of control over to Bryce at the end of the summer. I’m starting grad school in the fall and I intend to pursue a political career after I graduate.”

“So you’re leaving permanently?”

“The agency will always be mine in my heart, but yes. I will be leaving permanently. I can promise you, though, that my leaving will change nothing about the organization. The transition will be seamless. You’ll be in very good hands.”

As Val stared the billionaire couple down, silently daring them to disagree with her and turn her down, I marveled at her courage. She was the most confident woman I’d ever seen. She was fearless.

Val won the staring contest but still didn’t get the “yes” she was looking for.

“It’s my turn to be frank with you, Miss Jensen,” Mr. Gresham said. “My wife and I were drawn to your organization because of
you
. We know your history and are impressed with everything you’ve done. We like what you stand for. Mr. Carmichael seems like a man with a good heart and smart head on his shoulders, but it’s
you
we trust.”

“So trust her,” I said. I’d been pretty quiet through this whole meeting after the initial introductions, not really fitting in with all these Ivy League let’s-save-the-world-one-adoption-at-a-time people, but it was hard to keep quiet when they questioned her.

The conversation died and the Greshams, Val, and Bryce all turned to give me their full attention. “This organization has been her life’s work for years now,” I said. “She’s put her heart and soul into it. I just met Bryce today, but I wouldn’t have to have met him at all to know that he’s perfect for the job. There’s no way Val would be able to hand over something she cares so much about if he wasn’t the exact right person.”

Both Bryce and Val looked surprised that I’d come to Bryce’s defense. Val’s eyes misted over the tiniest bit and she gave my hand a grateful squeeze. I leaned over and kissed her cheek. “It’s true.”

Mr. Gresham cleared his throat to gain my attention. “I can see your point,” he told me. “But that’s an awful lot of blind faith you’re asking for. Can you honestly tell me you would support an organization simply because Miss Jensen did, even if she was no longer in charge?”

I laughed. “I already have. Val’s only involved in the V is for Virgin campaign by reputation anymore, and I don’t even really believe in the cause, but I still agreed to be their new official spokesperson last week.”

Val’s head whipped around and she gasped, “You
what
?”

“You heard me,” I said, laughing at her expression. “It’s all finalized and everything. I’m holding a press conference next week to make the announcement and take the official abstinence pledge in front of a camera. I signed the contract yesterday, agreeing to donate ten percent of all my profits from the new album to the Not Everybody’s Doing It Foundation.”

Her shock right then was worth the promise I’d given Robin. She slapped her hand over her mouth and her eyes welled up with tears. She blushed as she accepted a tissue from Mrs. Gresham.

“I’m sorry,” she said, dabbing at her tears. “I’m just—Kyle, I can’t believe it! Are you
serious
?”

I shrugged.

Val laughed as another round of happy tears slipped from her eyes, and she threw her arms around my neck. “Thank you!”

As I hugged her back, Mr. Gresham spoke again. “You see? It’s this kind of thing that we’re impressed with, Miss Jensen. You inspire people to act.”

Val let go of me and turned back to Mr. Gresham. “If that’s the kind of person you’re looking for, then you have to choose F is for Families. It’s because of Bryce that I even started the agency.
He
inspired
me
to act.”

I’m not sure whose curiosity was more piqued: the Gresham’s or mine. I wanted to be sick to my stomach. It was bad enough that Mr. Carmichael was basically perfect for Val in every way, and had everything in common with her down to the Stanford Alumni status, but to hear that he was also the person who
inspired
her? It was vomit inducing.

“Mr. Gresham, the truth is, Bryce is far better suited to run F is for Families than I am. I may have started the agency, but it was Bryce’s original idea. He was the one with the vision. I just helped him make it a reality. I have aspirations for a different career after I’m finished with grad school, but Bryce will stay with the organization for the rest of his life. He grew up in the foster care system and wasn’t adopted until he was fourteen.”

The Greshams gasped at the revelation and stared at Bryce. Their expressions instantly melted into looks of sympathy and admiration.

“I got lucky being placed with a couple when I was twelve who took a liking to me and chose to adopt me,” Bryce said. “I’d been bounced around from foster home to foster home since I was five years old. I didn’t stand a chance at succeeding in life until the Carmichaels offered me a real home, and now look at me. I’m a Stanford Law graduate. I know how important adoption is, and for these kids to have stable homes with good parents. This job is personal for me.”

Val broke the reverent silence that had fallen upon us with Bryce’s story. “Every staff member at F is for Families has a personal connection to adoption in some way and has chosen to work there because they are passionate about the cause. I guarantee you won’t find a more dedicated agency to put your money behind, and Kyle is right—Bryce is the perfect man to head the organization. You would be fools to choose another agency simply because I’m not in charge.”

My jaw fell slack at Val’s very blunt speech. The Greshams were just as surprised, but when they looked at one another and both cracked smiles, I knew Val had won. The Greshams wouldn’t be choosing another agency. They’d just found a home for their money.

Virgin Val had struck again. Even Mike Trout homered his next at bat, bringing in two more runs for the Angels, as if he simply couldn’t let Val down. He winked at Val on his way back to the dugout after crossing home plate, mouthing the words “for you.” She gave him two big thumbs-up.

Seriously, the woman was a force to be reckoned with.

And she was finally mine.

Val agreed to let me take
her out on a proper date to celebrate her victory after the game. I agreed to give her an hour to shower and change, and then checked myself into a hotel so I could do the same. Believe it or not, it was our first real date, and that had me anxious to make it perfect.

Standing on her doorstep in my sport coat holding a bouquet of roses, was a major high school throwback. I felt like a freshman going to his first homecoming all over again.

When Val answered the door in a strapless red cocktail dress that hugged her frame and stopped mid-thigh, I died. I pulled at the collar of my shirt, trying to release some of the heat that was suddenly consuming me.