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On autopilot, he hugged her back. “You knew about this?”
She stepped back, smiling sheepishly. “Maybe? The staff has wanted to put together an event for a while. A lot of the families want to thank you. So when Cela called me to see if we could put something together quickly, I sort of made everyone work overtime to make it happen.”
He peeked over Lindy’s shoulder toward Cela. Everything in her stance belied her nerves. She’d gone through all of this trouble, and now she was afraid he was going to bail. He sighed, frustrated that this was happening but unable to let Cela or his staff down by being an asshole about it.
He forced himself to smile, the motion straining his face. “Thanks, Lindy. Y’all really shouldn’t have gone through the trouble.”
She crossed her arms and eyed him. “Yes, we should’ve. You built this company, and you need to accept the impact it’s had. Now, go sit, eat and drink. The presentation is about to start.”
“Presentation?” But Cela and Pike were already ushering him to a table without answering his question.
He felt like a piece being moved on a chessboard, everything out of his control. The whole experience was unnerving. But what else could he do at this point? Cela had thrown him into the deep end without an escape route. He ordered a stiff drink before his ass even hit the chair.
And he would need that liquid fortification, because a few minutes later, the lights went down and a video screen lowered on the back wall behind the stage. Music filled the cavernous ballroom, and Cela reached out and grabbed his hand. Familiar faces began to light the screen in time with the wordless music. One by one, every person who had ever been found because of one of their products appeared on the screen. Happy, smiling faces of two little boys running through the park, a little girl with a tiara on, the wizened smile of an elderly man who’d been found after wandering off, footage of news stories showing families reuniting when they found their loved ones.
Words appeared on the screen between the photos.
Every day . . . over two thousand children go missing.
Every day . . . families grieve for loved ones they’ll never see again.
Foster’s throat felt like it was stuffed with fiberfill, his chest going tight.
Every day . . . hope is lost.
But not for Mackenzie Osbourne in Cedar Rapids, IA.
Not for Jayden Kennedale in Biloxi, MS.
Not for MaryLou Wallace in Waco, TX.
Because people like Ian Foster and the staff of 4N refuse to accept that there’s nothing we can do.
A video of the Kennedales came on, Jayden in the middle with a toothless grin. Jayden’s mother began to speak. “The day Jayden wandered off in the mall was the most terrifying day of my life. In a flash of seconds, I saw my whole world collapsing in on itself. I’d taken my eye off of him for one moment, and he was gone. My baby was gone and it was my fault.” She swiped at tears through a wavering smile. “I’m not sure what made me buy that Home Safe wristband a month before. I live in a quiet town, low crime. It seemed kind of silly and paranoid to have such a thing. But Neve Foster’s story affected me, and I bought one. If Jayden hadn’t been wearing his that day, I know we would’ve never seen him again. I will never be able to repay Ian Foster and 4N for what they’ve given me. You saved us all.”
Foster’s lungs constricted as another family came on giving more heartfelt testimony. He looked to Cela, who was swiping at tears. She turned his way and offered him a tentative smile as if to say, See how amazing you are. This matters. You did this.
The meaning behind that look hit him right in the sternum. It was like warm rays of sun shining on his face. For the first time ever, he felt it—truly felt it—by seeing himself though her eyes. He’d made a difference. Maybe not for his own family. He could never make things better for Neve. And nothing would ever bring her back. But he could honor her with this. Every person who came home safe with a 4N product was because of her, a tribute.
As he listened to story after story, and as families came up to him to thank him after the video presentation was over, everything that had been wound so tight for so long seemed to loosen and unknot inside him. This mattered.
And Cela had shown him that. She’d done this for him. Everyone else had let him get by with his bitterness and hardened front, but she hadn’t accepted the bullshit. She’d pushed and pushed and stood up to him, had even taken the brunt of his wrath the night she’d refused to leave him alone to wallow. She’d bled for him.
The woman was more than he could have ever dreamed of or asked for. She was perfect. And she was his.
He exchanged hugs and good-byes with the last of the families who had stopped by to thank him, and then scanned the room for Cela. She’d stepped away when people had started to come over to talk with him, but he didn’t want her anywhere but at his side. He caught sight of her across the room with Bailey, both of them chatting with Lindy. Cela’s dark hair gleamed beneath the soft lighting in the room, and as promised, the short black dress she wore revealed just enough to drive him mad. If he hadn’t known her, his eyes would have been drawn her way regardless. Without letting her see him, he slipped out the door to take care of something.
When he came back, she hadn’t moved from her perch, but had added a glass of champagne to the mix. As if feeling his eyes on her, she glanced his way and sent him a still mad at me? quirk of her eyebrows. Inwardly, he grinned, but he kept his expression stern as he made his way over to her. When he reached the group, he grabbed her elbow and drew her next to him. “Excuse us, ladies, Cela and I have a lot to discuss.”
Lindy put a hand on his arm. “You’re not mad, are you?”
He sent her a quelling look. “Not at you.”
Cela gave Bailey a ruh-roh expression as she handed over her champagne glass to her friend, but he winked at the girl over Cela’s shoulder. Bailey bit back a smile. She gave Cela a little wave. “I’m going grab more of those puff pastry thingies.”
“Good idea,” Foster said, tugging Cela away.
She glanced back at her friend. “Is it just me or did she just throw me to the wolves?”
