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his best friend. Was that because she still missed Tim?

      Or was she attracted to C.J. for himself? The therapist she’d been seeing since the funeral had told her she had to let Tim go and move on. But with C.J?

      “Tasha, are you all right?”

      “Oh … you came back.”

      “From the little boys’ room. Of course I did. You went blank for a moment and I was a bit concerned.”

      Tasha could feel another blush coming on.

      “Where do you want to go now?” he asked.

      “I’m in charge of the banquet. I had a ton of assistance from my party planner, but since this charity is my brainchild, I’ve helped where I could and—”

      “The charity was your idea?” he interrupted. His expression grew unreadable. She felt tension between them.

      “Yes. I went to the McGinnises and my parents with a way for us to put our grief to use. We both know Gina McGinnis is an amazing charity worker who could run a foundation blindfolded. So I pitched the idea of the Tim McGinnis Firefighters against Cancer Foundation.”

      “I had no idea.”

      “I could do the legal work, but didn’t have the time, money or know-how to start the actual foundation. I’ve been touched by how the community has rallied to support it. I’m convinced this charity is going to make a big difference in the lives of many firefighters and their families in the Bay area fighting cancer.”

      “Now it makes even more sense why you’re speaking tonight.”

      “I’ve asked that I just be known as the lawyer for the charity. I don’t want my father turning this into a political rally. He’s running for Congress again this election.” Tasha moved closer to C.J. Her eyes searched his for the warmth that had been there earlier.

      “So what do you need to do now?” he asked.

      She bit her lip. “First off we have to find Terrance and see how things are going. Or you could go to the bar and relax until the banquet starts.”

      “Natasha? Where have you been?” a voice called. She looked over her shoulder and as if the mention of Terrance had conjured him up, saw the main coordinator of the event hurrying toward her, clutching a sheaf of papers. “You look fabulous, darling!”

      Her thoughts had been so full of C.J. she’d almost forgotten her responsibilities for the evening.

      “We’re in a crisis!” The man lifted his shoulders and shook his head dramatically, almost dropping his clipboard. “The band is fighting with the caterer and the chef is about to walk out the door. We need major damage control.” He sounded about to weep.

      Tasha turned away from C.J. and took a deep breath to pull herself together. “First off, that haircut is marvelous on you. I love the purple highlights.”

      Terrance beamed and fluffed his hair.

      “Listen to me. I hired you because you’re the best.”

      The coordinator’s narrow shoulders straightened and his confidence appeared to return.

      “Now get that amazing suit back in there and tell them I’m coming. I realize Chef Renard is difficult, so leave him to me. You go deal with the band. We’ll slice and dice this problem together.”

      Terrance hugged her. “You’re marvelous, not to mention delectable in that outfit. Like a fruit,” he added before kissing the air near her cheek. “Who’s this?” He’d just noticed C.J., and his eyes went wide with curiosity.

      “This was Tim’s best friend, Captain C. J. Powell of the San Francisco Fire Department. C.J? This is Terrance Young, my miracle worker.”

      After they shook hands, C.J. said, “I’m also Natasha’s date for the evening.” He slid his arm around her casually and pulled her close.

      Terrance adjusted his black-rimmed glasses and raised his eyebrows. “Tsk-tsk. It seems our Tasha has been holding out on us.” He looked back and forth between the two of them, then pursed his lips. “When were you going to tell me you had a hot man in your life?”

      Tasha felt as if she was losing control of everything she’d carefully pieced together over the past year. “C.J. and I have been friends for ages.”

      Terrance laughed. “When you’re ready to tell the truth, come and have a chat with me. I’ll be taking care of the band. But Renard is about to leave. I suggest you say your goodbyes quickly,” he said, before breezing away.

      Tasha looked up at C.J. and felt her heart race when their gazes locked. How could a man have such blue eyes? Feeling utterly juvenile, she glanced away. “I guess I better head to the kitchen before my ill-tempered chef leaves. See you after the speech.”

      THE ROOM GREW QUIET as Natasha stood at the makeshift podium that overlooked the famous baroque-style ballroom. Emotion began to bubble up inside her. It needed to be quelled before she began her speech.

      She’d never been nervous addressing groups even larger than this on immigration law. But she’d never had to speak about her best friend before. At Tim’s funeral only family had spoken, leaving out whole aspects of his life, such as fireman and friend. This was her chance to talk about the man she’d known and loved.

      Stares from the elegantly dressed assembly grew more probing as the guests waited for the program to start. Tasha broke out in a cold sweat. She could see that all her hard work over the past year had paid off, for the room was packed. But none of that mattered if she let stage fright get the best of her.

      She should have brought cue cards, she decided, feeling her hands tremble. She had arrogantly thought she could handle anything. After all, she’d been blessed with a good memory and had never needed to use them before.

      With her thoughts reeling wildly, she realized the hubbub in the ballroom had subsided. How could a gathering of over four hundred people be this silent? Great! Now the press had something else to add to the embarrassing faults of Congressman Bennington’s daughter.

      Tasha’s breathing came faster. She clung to the podium for support, noting she’d been up here too long without saying anything. Her eyes searched out C.J., who was seated nearby.

      Those deep pools of blue were full of concern and encouragement. In that instant, memories of Tim flooded her mind, and the speech she’d prepared didn’t seem right anymore.

      She cleared her throat. “I’d like to thank all of you for coming to the Tim McGinnis Firefighters against Cancer Foundation Charity Ball. I hope some of you enjoyed the marathon today. I know I did. Though I doubt I’ll be able to walk normally for a week. It was a great experience I wouldn’t have missed.” She heard a few hoots from the audience.

      “Those of us who knew Tim recall he was a man who lived life to the fullest. He was far too young to die.” Tasha looked over at Tim’s parents and could see tears in Gina’s eyes.

      “Statistics tell us that one in two people will be diagnosed with cancer in their lifetime. This is not a disease that affects someone else. It affects everyone, whether it be the patient or their family and friends.” Her throat began to constrict. “Tim was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, a tricky one to catch at an early, treatable stage.

      “Cancer statics for firefighters are staggeringly higher than the norm. Researchers found they have a one hundred percent greater risk of developing testicular cancer, a fifty percent higher risk for multiple myeloma and non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma, and for prostate cancer it’s a twenty-eight percent increase, compared with non-firefighters.

      “For all of us who knew Tim, the tragedy of cancer was brutal, since the disease wasn’t caught until it had metastasized, leaving him with only a few weeks left to live. But that didn’t stop him from living every moment to the fullest. He rode his wheelchair around the hospital wards cheering up other patients, trying to make them laugh. Sometimes a laugh

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