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When Leah sees me, the peaceful expression on her face immediately fades. She scrambles to get on her feet.
“It’s okay,” I tell her. “You don’t have to stand up.”
She stays on the carpet and crosses her legs in a lotus position. I sit on the floor across from her.
“How are you?” I ask her.
“Good,” she answers as she touches her neck.
“You’ve been doing yoga?”
“Yeah. I used to do it. I haven’t had time to do it lately, but now I’ve got plenty of time, so…” She ends her sentence with a shrug.
“Well, I’m afraid you might not have that much time on your hands soon,” I tell her.
Leah’s eyebrows crease. “What do you mean?”
I take a silver flash drive out of my pocket and hand it to her.
“That contains the information on incoming seniors who have been competing in high school gymnastic tournaments.”
She looks even more puzzled as she stares at the drive.
“I’ve been wanting the company to offer more scholarships for a while now,” I tell her. “I figured we could offer scholarships to athletes in less popular sports, starting with gymnastics.”
Leah’s eyes grow wide. “A special scholarship just for gymnasts?”
I nod. “We’ll start with five of them from across the country. I don’t want to do this just for the sake of offering scholarships, though. I want to make sure we give them to students who really need them, who really deserve them. So I need the perspective of someone who understands what they’re going through, who’s experienced it herself.”
Leah’s eyes grow even wider as they look at me. “You want me to help you?”
“I want you to tell me who you think I should offer those scholarships to,” I answer.
She puts her hand over her chest. “Me?”
“Do you think you can do it?”
She purses her lips as she considers my offer. I can tell she wants to do it but she’s also afraid to take it on, probably because she’s aware that it’s a big responsibility.
Well, Fiona did say to give her a task that isn’t just to pass the time, or something along those lines.
“I don’t know,” she finally answers. “Are you sure I’m the one you should be asking?”
“I don’t know any other former gymnasts,” I say, which is true. “Especially none with plenty of time of their hands.”
She taps her finger on her knee.
“I just need you to look at the files and make recommendations, as well as share your thoughts on what the scholarship should include,” I tell her. “Someone else will make the final decision and draw up the official documents.”
Although I’ve already made up my mind to go with whoever she thinks is worthy.
Leah draws a deep breath and holds up the drive. “Okay, then. I guess I can look at these files and tell you what I think. It’s not like I have anything better to do anyway.”
“That’s all I ask.”
The corners of her lips curve slightly upwards. Ah, there’s that smile I’ve been waiting for.
“Thank you,” she says softly.
“No need.” I get on my feet. “I’m just giving a job to the person who can pull it off best.”
And I have no doubt she will.
Chapter Eleven
Leah
“Margaret Jackson.”
I add her name to my list of recommendations, having deemed her a worthy candidate after going through her files and videos twice. Afterwards, I glance at her picture on my computer screen. I can just imagine those green eyes lighting up her freckled cheeks when she hears the news that she’s getting a scholarship- if Gavin’s company gives her one. The possibility is enough to make me smile.
I still can’t believe Gavin gave me this job. When I told Fiona I wanted something to do, I was thinking more of chores or an online class. I never thought I’d get a job. Well, it’s actually more of a one-time project than a job, but it’s not just keeping me busy. It’s making me feel useful, knowing that everything I learned and experienced while doing gymnastics wasn’t in vain. It’s making me happy doing something close to my heart. It’s a dream come true, actually.
“That smile tells me things are going well,” Gavin says as he walks into the living room.
I’ve been using it as my office for the past few days, mainly because I can sit wherever I want- my stomach is getting bigger, so I don’t want to be behind a desk- and because of its proximity to the kitchen.
“They are,” I confirm as I grab a sweet potato chip from the bowl beside me.
I dip it in yogurt before dunking it inside my mouth.
“I’ve already chosen seven candidates.”
“Seven?” He looks at me with arched eyebrows as he sits on the leather armchair.
Judging from his wet hair, he’s just taken a bath. Instead of a two- or three-piece suit, he’s wearing a cerulean shirt and a pair of black basketball shorts. The thin cotton clings to his toned chest and abdominal muscles, making me realize for the first time just how fit he is. I fight off a blush as I look away.
