Page 26 of Last First Date

"Yes, Knox?" she said, her cheeks slightly flushed.

"I need you here, Waverly," I said, waving a hand vaguely around my desk, littered with papers to sign and decisions to be made. "I know Benjamin's event is a big deal, but so are your day-to-day responsibilities."

"I understand," she replied, her eyes darting nervously from me to the pile of paperwork on my desk. "Actually, I was just coming to talk to you about that.'

"About what?"

"Who is Benjamin to you?"

"What?"

"You know him."

The way she said it sounded like an accusation. "We went to school together," I said. "I wouldn't necessarily say we were friends."

"He wants you at the grand opening," she said.

I scoffed. "No."

"I told him you would go."

"That was stupid because I have no intention of going to that opening."

She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at me. "He thinks you're going."

"I'm not."

"He wants you there. It would be good for the company if you went. You're the face of the company now."

"Perhaps, but I am also its brains and backbone," I shot back with frustration. "I cannot prioritize this event over the numerous other responsibilities demanding my attention. It's a silly grand opening. It's not a children's charity or anything of real importance."

"But, Knox,” she pleaded. “This could be a huge opportunity for us. We could build contacts, create partnerships, and who knows what else?”

“I appreciate your initiative, Waverly. However, I can’t afford to waste time on an event like this, especially one that benefits Benjamin of all people.”

Her lips pursed in frustration before she spoke again. “I’ve been working hard on this. You put me in charge, and I’ve been busting my ass. My client wants you there.”

“It’s a hard pass,” I said.

“Richard attended events,” she said.

I sighed. I was so sick of the comparisons to my grandfather. “I’m not him. I think we’ve established that already.”

"It's good for the clients to see the head of the company dedicated to the success of their events. They know you aren't personally planning the events, but it makes them feel special to know you are at least involved."

"That's precisely why my grandfather wants to retire early. He's given too much to this company. I'm the CEO. I'm not some celebrity getting paid to make an appearance."

"Are you suggesting your presence is worthy of a paycheck?" She scoffed.

"You're twisting my words, Waverly," I retorted, bristling at her response. There was a silence between us for a moment, time stretching as we held each other's gaze. In the weeks we had worked together, I had become very familiar with her stern, judging stares. Every time we had a disagreement, it ended up in a staring contest. I was getting better at it, but she was still the queen of the stare down.

"Listen," I began slowly, steepling my fingers in front of me. "Benjamin is not my client. He's yours. You've done a fantastic job prepping and planning this event. You should be proud."

"You're not going to the grand opening?" she asked again, the hopefulness in her voice fading.

"No," I said with finality. She looked ready to argue again, but I held up a hand. "Don't."

"An appearance," she said. "Fifteen minutes, thirty minutes tops."