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“I see,” Beverly says with a smirk.
Sheila gives me acan you believe herlook.
I shake my head.
“Let me show you the concert hall.” I make a sweeping gesture to the door.
Jordan is jogging down the stairs on our way up.
Oh no. Please don’t talk to me.
His eyes latch onto me and he slides into my path. “Deej.”
Beverly stops abruptly.
I slant him a sharp look. “Not now, Jordan,” I say beneath my breath.
“You haven’t been answering my texts.”
“I said not now.”
“Then when?” He whirls around when I try to usher Beverly past him. Eyes beseeching, he says, “They sent me out for training I didn’t need and I didn’t see you for days. You keep saying we’re going to talk, but it’s like you’re avoiding me.”
Beverly arches an eyebrow. Intrigue glitters in her eyes as she glances between us. “Who is this?”
“This is the foundation’s in-house translator.”
“French? Mandarin?”
I scrunch my nose. “What are you talking about?”
“You said he was a translator.”
“I translate ASL.” Jordan lifts his chin proudly. “It makes it easier for the students to have someone who can quickly communicate what they’re trying to say or translate what the admin or a guest is talking about.”
“That seems like a lot of trouble to go through. Don’t most of the students and teachers already know ASL?”
“It’s not a lot of trouble,” I correct her right away. “It’s a way to make communication easy on all fronts. The easier communication is, the better the environment for the students and everyone involved.”
“Hm.” She nods with a glib smile.
Jordan arches an eyebrow in her direction.
I shrug. It’s clear this woman had very little interest in covering the story. Her empathic skills are severely lacking. If she hadn’t met me, she probably would have bulldozed her way into getting a story about Sazuki and his mysterious family. Now that there’s no hope of getting a single crumb about Sazuki, I feel a clear disconnect.
“This stage,” I gesture to the wooden floor in the concert hall, “is made completely of sound boards. At their first concert, the kids will be able to feel the vibrations of the music. Mr. Sazuki is also working closely with a renowned engineer to create a device for deaf music students. It’ll convey vibrations with more clarity than anything else on the market.”
“Mr. Sazuki sure is keeping busy.” She glances past me to the exits. “Do you think he’s back by now?”
“Mr. Sazuki will be in meetings all day, which is why he asked me to accommodate you.”
What is this woman’s problem?
My impatience is climbing, but I refuse to let her see my snappy side. Sazuki trusted me with the task. It’s one thing to share my knowledge of vibrations with the instructors and another thing entirely to be the first official spokesperson of the foundation.
I can’t mess this up.
“Do you have any questions about the concert hall’s construction or the measures taken to make the venue more accessible to deaf students?” I look hopefully at her, but deep down inside, I don’t expect any excitement.
