Oh no, she isn’t behind my idea.She doesn’t have to utter a word; it’s written all over her face.“Paige, what were you thinking?”
Until that moment, I was confident in my vision.The parking lot isn’t pretty.Okay, it’s a freaking parking lot.Nothing to see here.But what I have in mind will transform this lot into a space befitting of a starry night.
I think of Zach again, his advice to me, and take a deep breath, prepared to sell my idea as if my life depended on it.
“Before you do something you regret, hear Paige out.”That familiar voice, deep, warm, and confident, flits over me and through me like the best kind of hug.
Peering over my shoulder, I spot Zach standing several feet away from us in distressed jeans hanging low on his trim waist and a tucked in button-down shirt, the sleeves rolled to just below his elbows.His hands rest casually on his hips and damn, his forearms.Flexed, taut, and veined.
My teeth drag the flesh of my bottom lip into my mouth as I fight the crazed desire to lick every single inch of his arms.Who cares what the committee thinks of me and who cares about the gala?I just want to touch him and it’s hard to care that we aren’t alone and I’ve got a job to do.
I love Zach in a suit—he can bring me to my knees—but when he’s casual, like right now, it’s as if he’s stripped bare for me.Along with no jacket and tie, gone is his reserved, professional façade—he’s showing me a part of him not many see.
Hot longing courses through my bloodstream with every one of his strides toward me, and it takes everything within me to focus on my task to win over the committee.
Stopping beside me, his hand slides to the small of my back, reassuring, and I’m stunned still because I’ve never felt like this before.Like I belong.
I belong with him.
His sexy, familiar aroma of leather and spice surrounds me and I find myself leaning in his direction.A mesmerizing blue stare weakens my knees, and he’s looking at me as if I’m the only one here, and I wish it were true.
I look up at him through my dark lashes, flushing, and then fill my lungs with fresh air before turning to face the jury.I’m so ready to make them see things my way.To bring them to the dark side.
Nan’s smiling, content to see her grandson at my side, and even Cormac and Maude devilishly grin like two toddlers up to no good.
“There are many good reasons why hosting Nuit Étoilée here would benefit the foundation.First off, it would be a significant savings.We could invest those funds in the cause or donate to the local charities we’ve wanted to support but weren’t able to.”
A few heads perk up and one or two even nod in approval at this news.Confidence surges through me as if Zach has gifted me his superpower.
“Secondly, our goal is to raise funds in support of water.We’ve pledged to help improve the world’s most precious resource, and what better message than holding the event surrounded by this city’s largest freshwater source—Lake Ontario.”
Again, a few more turn around to look at the water as if only just now noticing the lake.More nodding, and some of their body postures open to me.My last point is what I hope to clinch this deal with because I’m appealing to them through self-promotion.
“Finally, think of the symbolism of scaling back the event.We’re putting our money where our mouths are.I’ve already got a media pitch in mind about how our different approach is improving our impact.Think of the great publicity for the foundation and ultimately our cause.”
Reagan steps forward, ready to rebut but I carry on, not giving her a chance.She’ll get her turn.
“The Rothwell Foundation has been great for the many causes you’ve supported, but there hasn’t been any clear direction on what you stand for.Or any key performance indicators to show your efforts have made an impact.We can change all that this year.We’ll be able to speak to the cost savings through our innovation, flipping Nuit Étoilée on its head.And we’ve talked about the more-than-money approach where we can build on the good of the gala.”
An upbeat murmur swells through the group and most are nodding and smiling at me by the time I’m finished.
Except for Reagan.
“This is ridiculous.Talk about ghetto,” she snaps.“We’ll be laughed at in the press, and think about our patrons.”She spins around, face screwed up like a grumpy old man’s.“They’re paying thousands to attend and then they’re asked to donate, and in return we’re hosting here.No air-conditioning and the mosquitoes and?—”
“Reagan, a word.”Zach marches to her side, leading her by the arm away from the group.
She can be heard saying, “Zach, you know I’m right,” when Nan steps up, her smile tight, most probably from Reagan’s desire to cause a scene, but the shimmer reaches her eyes.
“If you say you can make this the best gala we’ve ever had, I believe you.I believe in you.”
The pressure is huge with her support and while overwhelming, I don’t shy away.“I do believe it’ll be spectacular.Just stick with me for a few more minutes.”My hand stretches toward the lake.“Imagine a dance floor just there, at the water’s edge, with a canopy of twinkling lights, like stars, above.”
“It would be different,” Cormac says encouragingly, and I turn to meet his supportive gaze.
Out of the corner of my eye, I’m drawn to the two apart from us.Unable to help myself, I linger on Zach and Reagan deep in conversation and while I don’t have to wonder what she’s saying, I wish I could hear what he has to say.There’s something about the two of them together that gnaws at my insides in an uncomfortable, almost rankling, way.
“And over there,” I say, pushing them out of my mind as I point to another area of the lot, “we’ll have the dinner tables and the silent auction.And in that far corner, the bar.It won’t look anything like this, I promise.”
