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SAWYER
She's good. I'll give her that.
I'm not sure what I expected her to do. I wasn't even sure I would use the word until it was already tumbling out of my mouth.
It's funny, really, how certain situations align your priorities in the blink of an eye. All it took was watching Willow leave the hotel last night, with her head held high In spite of the humiliation my father put her through, to know there's no living without this woman. I'm not going to watch her walk away again, ever.
She takes it well, showing no reaction other than a few quick blinks. Well, she didn't slap me or throw anything at me, so I'll take that as a win for now.
“As you can see in the press release Willow so helpfully handed out,” I continue, lifting my own copy from the podium, “we intend to kick off a program which will allow underprivileged youths in our community to take sailing lessons for free.”
It was Willow's idea to invite the board to this, and I remember why I was against the idea when Nathan lifts a finger, clearing his throat even though I haven't stepped back to allow questions just yet. “With all due respect, Mr. Cargill, and speaking as a board member, to what end will you offer these lessons? If these kids can't afford to learn to sail on their own, what good does it do to teach them a skill they more than likely won't ever make use of?”
Maybe I'm more of an idealist than I believed. I honestly couldn't imagine anyone asking such an ignorant question, at least not while in front of a couple dozen people. My gaze brushes over my father's scowling face, and that doesn't exactly leave me feeling warm and fuzzy, either.
There's a gentle tug on my sleeve, the only warning Willow gives me before practically shoving me aside. Alright, she doesn't shove, but it feels that way to be suddenly replaced at the podium. “If I might, sir, I would like to address your point. It's a point we considered while putting this plan together, and it's my personal experience which I think sold the idea.”
“How so?”
“You see, what Mr. Cargill hasn't told you is, the two of us attended the same boarding school years ago. Only I was a scholarship student who would never otherwise have dreamed of sharing a classroom or a dorm with people like the Cargills and the other affluent families of those kids attending. I can't pretend there weren't times when I felt like an outsider, but at the end of the day, that experience showed me a world far bigger and richer than anything I had seen first-hand up to that point.”
She pauses for effect, scanning the crowd. “My education didn't stop at history and calculus. I saw what was possible, and I became determined to work hard and earn my place at the table... so to speak. Having that school on my college applications, along with my history of academic performance, earned me a spot at the University of Pennsylvania. There I was, a girl from a single parent home where struggle was a way of life, attending an Ivy League school. Now, my business partner and I run a successful public relations firm in the heart of Manhattan and we're on the verge of expansion. I don't know that any of it would have been possible If I hadn't taken that first step.”
If it weren’t for the dozens of pairs of eyes staring at us, I would throw my arms around her and kiss her until she fainted for lack of oxygen. A quick look over the group shows plenty of understanding smiles, gentle nodding. Even my father manages to look impressed, watching Willow with a look of cool appraisal. It's a hell of a lot better than the disdain he treated her to last night. The fact that she's even here in the first place is a testament to her character, her strength, her everything.
“There's really not much else to say, is there?” I ask with a chuckle once the podium is mine again. “Please, feel free to approach me with any questions you might have. Considering I kept all of you waiting, it would be rude of me to keep you from your lunch a minute longer. Enjoy.”
There's a soft smattering of applause before Dad rises from his seat and joins us near the railing. It’s only when he grins that I’m able to breathe. “Well done,” he murmurs, shaking my hand.
I can't decide whether or not it's an act for the benefit of witnesses until he turns his attention to Willow and shakes her hand as well. “I'm glad we understand each other. And as I said on the phone, I hope you can forgive my terrible behavior.”
On the phone? “When did this happen?” I ask, looking back and forth between them.
Dad snickers before winking at Willow. “You don't need to know about everything,” he informs me, patting my shoulder before heading over to chat with Nathan and some of the other board members. All I can do is watch, stunned.
“It looks like you're not the only one who's full of surprises today,” Willow murmurs. With her back to the crowd, she narrows her eyes at me. “What was that all about? Your girlfriend? Since when?”
I'm barely able to signal for her silence before Rob Myers reaches us. “Sawyer, I thought you'd both like to know it looks like you've got the votes you need for your expansion.”
Amazing, the weight a few well-chosen words can take off a man's shoulders. I have to glance down at the planks beneath my feet to confirm I'm still making contact with them instead of floating. “That is great news,” I somehow manage to choke out, while Willow beams. “Thank you so much for your faith.”
“When you have such an outstanding partner at your side, faith comes easily.” He winks at her before turning away.
And as soon as he does, her smile evaporates. “Can I speak privately with you?” She's already walking inside by the time she finishes the question, so there's nothing to do but follow in her footsteps until we end up in what used to pass for our banquet room. Funny how small it seems now that I know the expansion plans are good to go.
She reaches the window overlooking the water before spinning on her heel, glaring at me. Even now, framed by the picturesque background while practically spitting fire, she's breathtaking. There were a few moments this morning when I was unsure whether I would see her today, making her a sight for sore eyes now. All I want is to touch her, hold her, but something tells me I'd lose a hand if I so much as attempted it.
“What the hell was that about? Just another ploy to get them to like you?”
“What?”
“Calling me your girlfriend. Did it not occur to you that's something we should have discussed before you blurted it out?”
“You honestly think I would make that up for the sake of good will?”
“What other explanation is there?”
“Did it ever occur to you I might’ve meant it?” While she stammers and sputters, I take the opportunity to join her by the window.
