RSVP with Love. Sandra Kitt

advocate for the college. I look for ways, and people, to keep up our reputation and profile as a contender in the higher academic community, especially for African-American students. I work to get us good press and try to find high schools with the caliber of student who’d be a good fit for Hollington.”

      Their lunch was served, and both women busied themselves with enjoying it. Finally, after more light conversation and as they were finishing, Kyra sat back in her chair. Her expression became thoughtful, her voice quiet.

      “Remember Terrence Franklin?”

      Chloe considered a moment. “I think so. Hot athlete, right? Very popular. I think he’s a pro football player.”

      “Was,” Kyra corrected. “He got cut after his last serious injury. Messed up his knee. The boy is out of the game,” she ended flippantly.

      “Oh,” Chloe said. She wasn’t a football fan, herself.

      “Anyway, Hollington would like to have him come back to the college. We want to offer Terrence the position of head coach or even athletic director. It’s my job to try and sign him up. It’s not going to be easy,” she said, frowning slightly.

      “Why not?”

      “Oh…lots of reasons. Money and title and benefits. Let’s face it. Being a coach at a college is a huge step down from being watched by zillions of fans on Monday Night Football. Terrence and I…we have a history.”

      “Oh,” Chloe said again. She didn’t know anything about that, either.

      “Yeah…” She paused. “We were engaged when we were students. So, it could get complicated.”

      “Maybe not. Who knows? Terrence may be looking for something stable and comfortable now that his pro career is over.”

      Kyra quickly revived herself and smiled brightly. “Not your problem. And that’s not why I wanted to meet with you today. I wanted to talk about the homecoming. You do realize it’s also the tenth anniversary of our graduation in 1999?”

      “Yes, I know,” Chloe said, absently watching their plates being removed. She declined the dessert menu. “That’s one of the reasons why I agreed to take it on. You know, I own and manage an event planning business. I’ve been thinking a lot about October.”

      “Well, I hope you haven’t just been thinking about it. It’s already July, and homecoming is on the calendar for the second weekend of October. That’s three months.”

      Chloe smiled confidently. “I’m on it. The weekend schedule is pretty much set. The invitations went out in June.”

      “I saw it. Fabulous! You used the school colors very well. The invitation looked classy but fun. I like that the Hollington Lion mascot is silhouetted on the front, with a crown tilted at an angle on his head. He looks large and in charge.” She laughed and said, “The varsity guys will appreciate that.”

      “We’re already starting to get registration RSVPs. I think it’s up to about two hundred.”

      “Good. Now, what do you have in mind for Friday night?”

      “Well, I thought there should be a private cocktail party for the elite alumni who are big contributors to the college. You know…the president can tell them how important and wonderful they are. I’ve invited the trustees.”

      “Make sure you have Lucius Gray on the list. He’s an alumni and a very successful attorney in Atlanta. Also Beverly Clark. Her mother and a cousin graduated Hollington.”

      “I’m glad you mentioned Beverly. You know she was homecoming queen in 1998, the fall before we graduated, and I want her to ride in the parade float on Sunday again as homecoming queen. I’m having trouble reaching her. She hasn’t returned any of my e-mails or phone calls.”

      Kyra pursed her lips. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll talk to Beverly. She and I were best friends in college. We were in the same sorority.” Kyra glanced briefly at her. “What sorority were you in?”

      Chloe was not about to admit to the embarrassment and rejection she’d experienced when she hadn’t been asked to pledge by any of the sororities. With her limited resources, cheap clothes and troubled background, it was probably just as well. The less anyone knew about her the better.

      “Oh, I didn’t bother,” Chloe said, trying to appear a little indifferent. “I didn’t have time. I worked several part-time jobs. I was on scholarship so I had to keep up good grades.” She chuckled lightly, to cover that encroaching reminder that she didn’t fit in and never really belonged.

      “Oh, but you were valedictorian at graduation, right? So it all paid off.”

      “Yes. It all paid off,” Chloe reflected quietly.

      Kyra signed for their lunch, and they left the small elegantly appointed room and headed back to her office. It was in one of the newer administration buildings along the south side of the college quad. On their walk back Kyra pointed out to Chloe other changes to the campus. Chloe admitted that since graduating she’d only been back on campus a few times. Kyra talked about the new stadium and science building with state-of-the-art labs and equipment. There was also restoration taking place on one of the original buildings, designed in the style of Stanford White.

      As Kyra accepted messages from her assistant and walked into her office, she went back to the subject of the first night of homecoming weekend.

      “Okay, so I know about the Friday reception with President Morrow. What about everybody else that night?”

      “A meet and greet in the library gallery followed by Night Owl chats. I’m setting up rooms for many of the special interest clubs or groups so people can easily find classmates who had similar interests. Like, one for the sports jocks, one for the humanities. You know, art and creative writing students, music majors. And one for gays and lesbians—”

      “Whoa. I don’t know about that last one. Just acknowledging them didn’t fly with the trustees last year,” Kyra warned.

      “Well, I’ll have to remind them and the president that a very well-known gay journalist who graduated from Hollington with top honors and has a flourishing career gives to the college. He’s going to be at the Friday night party. We can’t leave him out or make him invisible.” Kyra continued to look skeptical and raised her brows. “Don’t worry. It’ll happen,” Chloe said confidently.

      “If you say so. Now,” Kyra said, getting comfortable in her desk chair, scooting closer to the desk and staring at Chloe with an almost-childlike excitement, “what about the big dance on Saturday after the game? Have you found a place for that yet?”

      “I’m considering several—”

      “Don’t need to. Book Bollito.”

      Chloe felt an odd little flutter in her chest at the mention of one of the hottest clubs in Atlanta. Housed in what appeared to be an industrial box that was formerly a manufacturing warehouse, the club had opened to rave reviews just a few years earlier.

      “I know you’ve been there. Everybody within a hundred miles of Atlanta has come in for dinner and dancing. It’s a huge club space, but you don’t get that feeling. There are five full floors and each floor has its own kind of decor and music. The concept is brilliant, but that’s Kevin for you. He always comes up with the big ideas. You have to talk with him and get him to agree to use Bollito for the Saturday night dance. It’s perfect.”

      Chloe was glad that Kyra had so much to say about Kevin Stayton’s club in downtown Atlanta. It gave her enough time to gather her wits and come up with a response. Of course Bollito was a great choice of venues. She didn’t object to that. She was having an adolescentlike moment at the thought of dealing with Kevin. And it wasn’t like they’d known each other as students. But their few encounters together had been profound. Simple and as brief as the moments had been, Chloe realized that she had lived with the memories of those moments for ten years.

      “Like