Synithia Williams - Full Court Seduction

Danielle’s brain buzzed with a variety of ideas. They needed to do something. “We need to get in front of the county commissioners at their next meeting. Get them to deny any permits for the expansion. If this goes through it doesn’t just hurt Mr. Springfield, it had the potential to hurt everyone living in the Crescent Acres community.”

Crescent Acres was a low-income neighborhood in an area just south of Jacksonville, Florida. Springfield Creek flowed right through the neighborhood before it entered Mr. Springfield’s property. Many of the people who lived there fished and played in that creek. If a sewer provider that already couldn’t meet their current permit limits started dumping poorly treated wastewater into the creek the effects could be devastating.

“I’m already talking to the commissioner’s clerk to see about getting on the agenda,” Debra said.

“Any idea what stance the county wants to take?”

Though the county leaders sometimes voted to preserve the areas going into the river, they also rarely took a huge stance on environmental issues.

Debra shook her head. “No idea.”

Danielle slapped her fist into her opposite palm. “We’ve got to get them to fight this.”

Debra chuckled. “I think they’re already expecting your call. The clerk remembers how much you hounded the state to go after Clear Water last year.”

“I only scheduled a small press conference.”

Debra smirked. “You put out a rally cry to our supporters to show up in front of the Clear Water gates with old toilets and signs that said ‘Poop in the toilet, not our river.’”

Danielle shrugged and smothered a grin. She was pretty proud of that idea. “It got everyone’s attention. We’ll need something equally big to get people paying attention again. That was just a year ago, but no one is watching what Clear Water is doing now. I can’t believe they have the nerve to try and dump into Springfield Creek.”

“They’ll be ready for battle after you gave them so much grief before.”

Danielle had been with the River Watchers since graduating from the University of Miami five years ago. When her sampling efforts proved Clear Water was dumping catastrophic amounts of pollution into the river, she’d spearheaded a movement against the provider. Her actions quickly turned the small organization into the most well-known conservation watchdog in the community. She’d gone from organizing their monitoring program to an executive director in a record five years.

“Does it look like I can’t go to battle with them?” Danielle turned, picked up her coffee mug off the counter and took a sip.

“Of course you don’t look like you’re ready for battle. That’s why you win. You surprise people with ferocious tenacity beneath your girl-next-door exterior.”

“I do not.”

“Yeah. You do.” Debra eyed Danielle from head to toe.

Danielle straightened her glasses and smoothed the front of the white cardigan she wore over a navy sundress. “Maybe I use that as a slight tactical advantage.”

“You’re never afraid to do battle with anyone, which is why I love working with you.”

“Don’t try and butter me up for a raise,” Danielle teased. “I won’t be able to cover the part-time salaries of the interns next fiscal year if we can’t get any more donors.”

“I’m not worried. Since you became executive director a year ago the donations have improved. The idea for the River Gala and silent auction this year was smart. I’m sure that’ll help raise some funds.”

Debra nodded and looked at Danielle like she was the great black hope. Danielle’s earlier freak-out about the success of the events she planned came back full force. They would need several successful events, not just the gala in a few weeks, to keep their doors open.

“If it makes you feel any better,” Debra said. “I think Mr. Springfield knows this is going to be a huge battle for us. He gave us a gift to thank us for our efforts.”

“A gift?”

“Two tickets...wait let me start over. Two—courtside—tickets for tonight’s Jacksonville Gators game.” Debra pulled the tickets from her back pocket. “He said to go, enjoy and relax before the fight. I know you’re a huge fan. I figured you’d be excited.”

Danielle rushed over to Debra’s side to snatch the tickets. “Are you for real?” She scanned the tickets to confirm the unbelievable news.

“Yep. Mr. Springfield has to go out of town tonight. He said he couldn’t think of two more deserving ladies than us.”

“Tonight’s game is a big one for them. They’re playing Miami.”

“Ooh, double the eye candy. Miami has some sexy players.” She bumped Danielle with her elbow.

“I wasn’t thinking about the sex appeal of the players. If this game was after the gala it would’ve made a great prize for the auction.”

Debra poked Danielle’s shoulder. “Will you stop thinking about the gala for a second and accept this completely fantastic gift?”

Danielle rubbed her shoulder even though the spot didn’t hurt. “I don’t always think about work. And we had drinks a few weeks ago.”

“Drinks with the other river rats a month ago doesn’t count,” Debra said, referring to the other conservation leaders in the area.

They’d gotten the nickname after a snarky reporter accused the environmental community of “scurrying around the river looking for problems” like rats. Instead of getting offended, Danielle insisted they accept the nickname. They did look for problems, and they made sure the problems were fixed.

Some called her overzealous. She didn’t care. There wasn’t much she could hold on to in her life. She was single, her parents were always busy with other things, she had no siblings, and she hadn’t had a significant relationship since college. Her passion for protecting the river was about the only thing to keep her warm at night. A state some would consider depressing if they didn’t consider her reasons.

The Ridgeport area was her home. She’d inserted herself in the community, made connections with residents and other activists there. What she did to protect the people hurt by industries like Clear Water, and their appreciation for her efforts, was the only proof she had that she mattered to someone.

“Come on, Danielle. We’ve got courtside seats. We have to go.”

Danielle did a quick count in her head. It had been over a month since she’d done anything remotely fun that had nothing to do with raising money for the River Watchers. “Why not?”

Debra did a quick shimmy of her hips and grinned. “Yay! It’s going to be so much fun. Hey, we’re right behind the bench. Maybe you can put that unassuming girl-next-door charm on blast and snatch a towel from one of the players.”

“Really, Debra, how am I supposed to do that?”

“They won’t suspect you of stealing a towel,” Debra said with a wiggle of her eyebrows. “Try to go for one that Jacobe Jenkins uses to wipe the sweat from his brow. Since you salivate every time you see him on television or on a billboard.”

Danielle waved a dismissive hand, but her heart wasn’t so indifferent. It jumped with a secret thrill of excitement. “I do not salivate.”

Debra’s smirk screamed, Yeah, right. “Yeah. You do. You both were at the University of Miami at the same time. Did you drool over him then, too?”

Drooling over Jacobe Jenkins was an understatement. Hiding how much desire gripped her whenever he came near had become her number-one priority. Except for that one night. Danielle tried to force the long-ago encounter from her mind and focus on the myriad of ways Jacobe Jenkins had irritated her, when he wasn’t sending her estrogen levels through the roof.